requesting, and obtaining, palace lodgment instead of the inn.

Next day the palace was a-buzz with my feast, for I had put Taiwun
and all his champions snoring on the mats and walked unaided to my

bed. Never, in the days of vicissitude that came later, did Taiwun
doubt my claim of Korean birth. Only a Korean, he averred, could

possess so strong a head.
The palace was a city in itself, and we were lodged in a sort of

summer-house that stood apart. The princely" target="_blank" title="a.王候般的；高贵的">princely quarters were mine, of
course, and Hamel and Maartens, with the rest of the grumbling

cunies, had to content themselves with what remained.
I was summoned before Yunsan, the Buddhist priest I have mentioned.

It was his first glimpse of me and my first of him. Even Kim he
dismissed from me, and we sat alone on deep mats in a twilight room.

Lord, Lord, what a man and a mind was Yunsan! He made to probe my
soul. He knew things of other lands and places that no one in Cho-

Sen dreamed to know. Did he believe my fabled birth? I could not
guess, for his face was less changeful than a bowl of bronze.

What Yunsan's thoughts were only Yunsan knew. But in him, this
poor-clad, lean-bellied priest, I sensed the power behind power in

all the palace and in all Cho-Sen. I sensed also, through the drift
of speech, that he had use of me. Now was this use suggested by the

Lady Om?--a nut I gave Hendrik Hamel to crack. I little knew, and
less I cared, for I lived always in the moment and let others

forecast, forfend, and travail their anxiety.
I answered, too, the summons of the Lady Om, following a sleek-

faced, cat-footed eunuch through quiet palace byways to her
apartments. She lodged as a princess" target="_blank" title="n.公主；王妃；亲王夫人">princess of the blood should lodge.

She, too, had a palace to herself, among lotus ponds where grow
forests of trees centuries old but so dwarfed that they reached no

higher than my middle. Bronze bridges, so delicate and rare that
they looked as if fashioned by jewel-smiths, spanned her lily ponds,

and a bamboo grove screened her palace apart from all the palace.
My head was awhirl. Sea-cuny that I was, I was no dolt with women,

and I sensed more than idle curiosity in her sending for me. I had
heard love-tales of common men and queens, and was a-wondering if

now it was my fortune to prove such tales true.
The Lady Om wasted little time. There were women about her, but she

regarded their presence no more than a carter his horses. I sat
beside her on deep mats that made the room half a couch, and wine

was given me and sweets to nibble, served on tiny, foot-high tables
inlaid with pearl.

Lord, Lord, I had but to look into her eyes--But wait. Make no
mistake. The Lady Om was no fool. I have said she was of my own

age. All of thirty she was, with the poise of her years. She knew
what she wanted. She knew what she did not want. It was because of

this she had never married, although all pressure that an Asiatic
court could put upon a woman had been vainly put upon her to compel

her to marry Chong Mong-ju. He was a lesser cousin of the great Min
family, himself no fool, and grasping so greedily for power as to

perturb Yunsan, who strove to retain all power himself and keep the
palace and Cho-Sen in ordered balance. Thus Yunsan it was who in

secret allied himself with the Lady Om, saved her from her cousin,
used her to trim her cousin's wings. But enough of intrigue. It

was long before I guessed a tithe of it, and then largely through
the Lady Om's confidences and Hendrik Hamel's conclusions.

The Lady Om was a very flower of woman. Women such as she are born
rarely, scarce twice a century the whole world over. She was

unhampered by rule or convention. Religion, with her, was a series
of abstractions, partlylearned from Yunsan, partly worked out for

herself. Vulgar religion, the public religion, she held, was a
device to keep the toiling millions to their toil. She had a will

of her own, and she had a heart all womanly. She was a beauty--yes,
a beauty by any set rule of the world. Her large black eyes were

neither slitted nor slanted in the Asiatic way. They were long,
true, but set squarely, and with just the slightest hint of

obliqueness that was all for piquancy.
I have said she was no fool. Behold! As I palpitated to the

situation, princess" target="_blank" title="n.公主；王妃；亲王夫人">princess and sea-cuny and love not a little that
threatened big, I racked my cuny's brains for wit to carry the thing

off with manhood credit. It chanced, early in this first meeting,
that I mentioned what I had told all the Court, that I was in truth

a Korean of the blood of the ancient house of Koryu.
"Let be," she said, tapping my lips with her peacock fan. "No

child's tales here. Know that with me you are better and greater
than of any house of Koryu. You are . . ."

She paused, and I waited, watching the daring grow in her eyes.
"You are a man," she completed. "Not even in my sleep have I ever

dreamed there was such a man as you on his two legs upstanding in
the world."

Lord, Lord! and what could a poor sea-cuny do? This particular sea-
cuny, I admit, blushed through his sea tan till the Lady Om's eyes

were twin pools of roguishness in their teasing deliciousness and my
arms were all but about her. And she laughed tantalizingly and

alluringly, and clapped her hands for her women, and I knew that the
audience, for this once, was over. I knew, also, there would be

other audiences, there must be other audiences.
Back to Hamel, my head awhirl.

"The woman," said he, after deep cogitation. He looked at me and
sighed an envy I could not mistake. "It is your brawn, Adam Strang,

that bull throat of yours, your yellow hair. Well, it's the game,
man. Play her, and all will be well with us. Play her, and I shall

teach you how."
I bristled. Sea-cuny I was, but I was man, and to no man would I be

beholden in my way with women. Hendrik Hamel might be one time
part-owner of the old Sparwehr, with a navigator's knowledge of the

stars and deep versed in books, but with women, no, there I would
not give him better.

He smiled that thin-lipped smile of his, and queried:
"How like you the Lady Om?"

"In such matters a cuny is naught particular," I temporized.
"How like you her?" he repeated, his beady eyes boring into me.

"Passing well, ay, and more than passing well, if you will have it."
"Then win to her," he commanded, "and some day we will get ship and

escape from this cursed land. I'd give half the silks of the Indies
for a meal of Christian food again."

He regarded me intently.
"Do you think you can win to her?" he questioned.

I was half in the air at the challenge. He smiled his satisfaction.
"But not too quickly," he advised. "Quick things are cheap things.

Put a prize upon yourself. Be chary of your kindnesses. Make a
value of your bull throat and yellow hair, and thank God you have

them, for they are of more worth in a woman's eyes than are the
brains of a dozen philosophers."

Strange whirling days were those that followed, what of my audiences
with the Emperor, my drinking bouts with Taiwun, my conferences with

Yunsan, and my hours with the Lady Om. Besides, I sat up half the
nights, by Hamel's command, learning from Kim all the minutiae of

court etiquette and manners, the history of Korea and of gods old
and new, and the forms of polite speech, noble speech, and coolie

speech. Never was sea-cuny worked so hard. I was a puppet--puppet
to Yunsan, who had need of me; puppet to Hamel, who schemed the wit

of the affair that was so deep that alone I should have drowned.
Only with the Lady Om was I man, not puppet . . . and yet, and yet,

as I look back and ponder across time, I have my doubts. I think