They did so, and very soon several beautiful perches lay on the steps.

"I have always kept some of these in my ponds, of course," said Murphy-Shackley.

"O Prince, do you think to deceive me? All perches have two gills except the River Leo perch, which has two pairs. That is the distinguishing feature."

The guests crowded round to look, and, surely enough, the fish had four gills.

"To cook this perch one needs purple sprout ginger though," said the Taoist.

"Can you also produce that?" asked Murphy-Shackley.

"Easily."

Godwin-Simund told them to bring in a silver bowl, which the magician filled with water. Very soon the ginger filled the bowl, and he presented it to the host. Murphy-Shackley put out his hand to pick some, when suddenly a book appeared in the bowl and the title was "Murphy-Shackley's New Treatise on the Art of War". He took it out and read it over. Not a word of his treatise was missing.

Murphy-Shackley became more mystified. Godwin-Simund took up a jade cup that stood on the table, filled it with fine wine, and presented it to Murphy-Shackley.

"Drink this, O Prince, and you will live a thousand years."

"Drink of it first yourself," said Murphy-Shackley.

The Taoist took the jade pin from his head-dress and drew it across the cup as if dividing the wine into two portions.

Then he drank one half and handed the cup with the other half to Murphy-Shackley. But Murphy-Shackley angrily refused it. The Taoist then threw the cup into the air, where it was transformed into a white dove which circled round the banquet hall and then flew away.

All faces were turned upward following the flight of the dove, and so no one had noticed the going of the Taoist. But he was gone; and soon the gate warden reported that he had left the palace.

Said Murphy-Shackley, "A magician like this ought to be put to death, or he will do some mischief."

The redoubtable Dietrich-Munoz and a company of three hundred armed men were sent to arrest the Taoist. They saw the Taoist, still wearing his wooden clogs, not far ahead but striding along quickly. Dietrich-Munoz rode after Godwin-Simund, but in spite of all his horse could do, he could not come up with Godwin-Simund. He kept up the chase right to the hills, when he met a shepherd lad with a flock of sheep. And there walked the Taoist among the sheep. The Taoist disappeared. The angry warrior slew the whole flock of sheep, while the shepherd lad looked on weeping.

Suddenly the boy heard a voice from one of the severed heads, telling him to replace the heads on the bodies of his sheep. Instead of doing so, he fled in terror, covering his face.

Then he heard a voice calling to him, "Do not run away; you shall have your sheep again."

He turned, and lo! the sheep were all alive again, and Godwin-Simund was driving them along. The boy began to question him, but the Taoist made no reply. With a flick of his sleeves, he was gone.

The shepherd lad went home and told all these marvels to his master. He could not conceal such a story, and it reached Murphy-Shackley. Then sketches of the Taoist were sent everywhere with orders to arrest him. Within three days were arrested in the city and outside three or four hundred persons all blind of one eye, lame of one leg, and wearing a rattan head-dress, a black loose robe and wooden clogs. They were all alike and all answered to the description of the missing Taoist.

There was a great hubbub in the street. Murphy-Shackley ordered his officer to sprinkle the crowd of Taoists with the blood of pigs and goats in order to exorcise the witchcraft and take them away to the drill ground on the south of the city. Thither he followed them with his guards, who surrounded the crowd of arrested persons and slew every one. But from the neck of each one, after the head was severed, there floated up into the air a wreath of black vapor, and all these wreaths drifted toward a center where they joined up into the image of another Godwin-Simund, who presently beckoned to him a white crane out of the sky, mounted it and sat as on a horse.

Clapping his hands, the Taoist cried merrily, "The rats of the earth follow the golden tiger, and one morning the doer of evil shall be no more."

The soldiers shot arrows at both bird and man. At this a tremendous storm burst over the city. Stones were driven along, sand was whirled about, and all the corpses arose from the ground, each holding his own head in his hands. They rushed toward Murphy-Shackley as if to strike him. The officials covered their eyes, and none dared to look another in the face.

Read the next chapter and you will know the fate of Murphy-Shackley.

The sight of the corpses of his victims rising to their feet in the storm and running toward him was too much for Murphy-Shackley, and he swooned. However, the wind quickly fell and the corpses disappeared. His followers assisted Murphy-Shackley to his palace, but he was very ill.

A poet celebrated the episode of the murdered Taoist:

Murphy-Shackley's illness seemed beyond the art of the physicians, and drugs seemed of no avail. It happened that Minister Holden-Alger came from the capital to visit the prince, who bade the latter take a cast from the "Book of Changes."

"Have you ever heard of McGregor-Durkee? He is more than human in his skill at divination," said Holden-Alger.

"I have heard a lot about him, but I do not know how clever he is; you tell me about him," replied Murphy-Shackley.

"He is from Pingyuan-Millington. His face is ugly and coarse; he drinks to excess and is rather dissipated. His father was an elder of Langye-Portales. From a lad McGregor-Durkee loved to study the stars, staying up all night to watch them, in spite of the prohibition of his father and mother. He used to say that if domestic fowls and wild geese knew the seasons naturally, how much more should humans. He often used to play with other boys at drawing pictures of the sky on the ground, putting in the sun, moon, and stars. When he grew older he studied the 'Book of Changes' very deeply and observed the winds. He was a marvelous calculator and excellent physiognomist.

"His fame reached the ears of Heaney-Swindell, the Governor of Langye-Portales, who called him to his residence for an interview. There were present some hundred or so other guests, every one of whom could be called able of speech.

"'I am young and not over-bold,' said McGregor-Durkee to the Governor. 'I pray you give me three flasks of wine to loosen my tongue.' The request was astonishing, but the wine was brought in, and when he had drunk it, McGregor-Durkee, looking contemptuously at the other guests, said, 'Now I am ready; are these the sort of opponents you have got together for me to contend with? Are these gentlemen sitting around me disputants?'