father to our wedding, for all of her people were dead. She talked about them vaguely. She never told me anything of her past except the incident of her crying for the moon. Nor did she tell me whence she had come. She chose to enshroud her past in secrecy, and I was content. It was sufficient that she was actually with me in the present.
"Then came the eve of 'The Feast
A of Lanterns'. The Chinese calendar,
as you must know, is regulated
by the moon, and the start of the New
Year is a period of great rejoicing.
It is then that the Spirits are in a
most amiable mood, and the Chinese
celebrate by the world-renowned festivities
which are known as 'The
Feast of Lanterns'. At that period
China ceases to be a land of mystery
and groping shadows. It becomes a
veritable fairyland of riotous colors
and thousands upon thousands of lanterns.
So many lanterns there are,
there is no place for shadows and they
flee moaning and groaning out to the
desert places. China then is more fantastic
than ever and the very air,
always foul, is filled with poetry and
soft-blowing incense. No wonder the
poets of China have gone into ecstasies
over those riotous, gorgeous
feasts, riotous, you understand, only
in the clashing and blending of colors.
"At this particular 'Feast of Lanterns' I was very happy, for Taki was with me. Together, hand in hand (an unheard-of mode of walking in Canton, we ambled about the bazars eating rice cakes, sipping tea and munching the sweetmeats which were held out temptingly on every side. That night Canton was a city of purple dreams, of love, of glory and enchantment. I longed to place my hands upon the moon, arrest it in its course and hold it so it need never pass again. It was the zenith of my happiness. What more could be added to it Î And Taki too was glad.
"But there is something sad about crossing the zenith of anything, for then whatever it be must begin to wane. So was it with my happiness that night, for there chanced to be abroad in Canton a rich merchant named Ching Ling. He carried a gorgeous golden lantern which stood out in prominence among all the pageantry of light and color. Taki beheld it and her expression changed. Even as she had cried for the moon, and been attracted by my lanterns, she could not resist the golden snare of Ching Ling. She looked at him with eyes that were brilliant with desire. Her lips trembled. For all the world she was like some exquisite Lantern Spirit.
"Ching Ling noticed her expression and beckoned to her. When my attention was diverted elsewhere she followed him into one of the veinlike alleys which are etched endlessly throughout the native quarter of Canton. Shrieking as though my head had collapsed I sped after them through ell the alleys nearest to me, but to no avail. They had vanished as utterly as though they had dissolved into the very air."
Yin Wen paused in his story. His head was shaking as though he were palsied. His parchmentlike yellow-brown face was as haggard as a death's head, and he was drooling at the lips.
"And now," he said, when he had succeeded somewhat in getting his emotions under control, "she has gone from me, but it is only for a little while. The Lantern of Gold took her from me but the Love Lantern which I am making will bring her back again."
As he spoke he rose wearily to his feet. From a back room he fetched and lighted a lantern the like of which had never been seen in all the world before. What color it was, I cannot say. It was of all colors and of none. It seemed to have been painted with
