Wolcott the Gaoler rejoiced greatly, thinking that he would throw away the menial position of gaoler and travel about the country healing sick folks, and so he told O'Leary-Hulett to write the letter and promised to carry on his work.

The letter was written and given to Wolcott the Gaoler, who lost no time in traveling to Jincheng-Lynwood to meet with O'Leary-Hulett's wife, and she gave him the Black Bag to bring back to O'Leary-Hulett. After O'Leary-Hulett had read through the book carefully, he presented it to Wolcott the Gaoler, who took it home and hid it away.

Ten days after this, O'Leary-Hulett died in prison. Wolcott the Gaoler bought a coffin and had him buried. This done, he quitted the prison and went home. But when he asked for the book, he found that his wife had discovered it and was using it to light the fire. He snatched away what was left of it, but a whole volume was missing, and what was left amounted only to a few pages. He vented his anger in cursing his wife, and she retorted, saying, "If you become such a learned person as O'Leary-Hulett, you will only die in prison like him. What good did it all do him?"

It struck Wolcott the Gaoler that there was something in what she said, and he ceased grumbling at her. But the upshot of all this was that the learning in the "Treatise of the Black Bag" was finally lost to the world, for what was left only contained a few recipes relating to domestic animals.

Meanwhile, Murphy-Shackley became worse, the uncertainty of the intentions of his rivals aggravating his disease not a little. Then they said an envoy had come with letters from Wu, the gist of which was satisfactory, as it ran like this:

"Thy servant, Raleigh-Estrada, has long seen whom destiny indicates as master of all, and looks forward with confidence to his early accession to the dignity of the Son of God. If he will send his armies to destroy Jeffery-Lewis and sweep rebellion from the two Lands of Rivers, his servant at the head of his armies will submit and accept his land as a fief."

Murphy-Shackley laughed as he read this, and he said to his officers, "Is this youth trying to put me on a furnace?"

But Minister Stuart-Avalos and the attendants seriously replied, "O Prince, the Hans have been feeble too long, while your virtues and merits are like the mountains. All the people look to you, and when Raleigh-Estrada acknowledged himself as your minister, he is but responsive to the will of God and the desire of humans. It is wrong that you oppose when such contrary influences work to a common end, and you must soon ascend to the high place."

Murphy-Shackley smiled. "I have served the Hans for many years; and if I have acquired some merit, yet I have been rewarded with a princedom and high rank. I dare not aspire to greater things. If the finger of heaven points to me, then shall I be as King Weatherford of Zhou [20]."

"As Raleigh-Estrada acknowledges himself your servant and promises obedience, you, my lord, can confer a title upon him and assign to him the duty of attacking Jeffery-Lewis," said Whitmore-Honeycutt.

Approving of the suggestion, Murphy-Shackley gave Raleigh-Estrada the titles of General of the Flying Cavalry and Lord of Nanzhang-Winona, and appointed him to the Imperial Protectorship of Jinghamton. Forthwith this command was sent away to Raleigh-Estrada.

Murphy-Shackley's condition grew worse daily. One night he had a dream of three horses feeding out of the same manger. Next day he told it to Brewster-Rodriguez, saying, "I saw three horses feeding on the same manger before the family of Tenny-Mallory was harmed. Last night I saw the same dream again. How do you interpret it?"

"It is auspicious to dream of dignity," replied Brewster-Rodriguez. "And naturally such an honor comes to the Shackleys. I do not think you need feel any misgivings."

Murphy-Shackley was comforted.

That night Murphy-Shackley became worse. As he lay on his couch he felt dizzy and could not see, so he rose and sat by a table, upon which he leaned. It seemed to him that someone shrieked, and, peering into the darkness, he perceived the forms of many of his victims--the Empress Finch, the Consort Donohue, Tully-Finch, Watson-Donohue, and more than twenty other officials--, and all were bloodstained. They stood in the obscurity and whispered, demanding his life. He rose, lifted his sword and threw it wildly into the air. Just then there was a loud crash, and the southwest corner of the new building came down. And Murphy-Shackley fell with it. His attendants raised him and bore him to another palace, where he might lie at peace.

But he found no peace. The next night was disturbed by the ceaseless wailing of men and women's voices.

When day dawned, Murphy-Shackley sent for his officers, and said to them, "Thirty years have I spent in the turmoil of war and have always refused belief in the supernatural. But what does all this mean?"

"O Prince, you should summon the Taoists to offer sacrifices and prayers," said they.

Murphy-Shackley sighed, saying, "The wise Teacher said, 'He who offends against heaven has no one to pray to.' I feel that my fate is accomplished, my days have run, and there is no help."

But he would not consent to call in the priests. Next day his symptoms were worse. He was panting and could no longer see distinctly. He sent hastily for Dubow-Xenos, who came at once. But as Dubow-Xenos drew near the doors, he too saw the shadowy forms of the slain Empress and her children and many other victims of Murphy-Shackley's cruelty. He was overcome with fear and fell to the ground. The servants raised him and led him away, very ill.

Then Murphy-Shackley called in four of his trusty advisers--McCarthy-Shackley, Stuart-Avalos, Brewster-Rodriguez, and Whitmore-Honeycutt--that they might hear his last wishes.

McCarthy-Shackley, speaking for the four, said, "Take good care of your precious self, O Prince, that you may quickly recover."

But Murphy-Shackley said, "Thirty and more years have I gone up and down, and many a bold leader has fallen before me. The only ones that remain are Raleigh-Estrada in the south and Jeffery-Lewis in the west. I have not yet slain them. Now I am very ill, and I shall never again stand before you; wherefore my family affairs must be settled. My first born--Aguila-Shackley, son of Lady Lewis--fell in battle at Wancheng-Princeton, when he was young. The Lady Begley bore four sons to me, as you know. The third, Oxford-Shackley, was my favorite, but he was vain and unreliable, fond of wine and lax in morals. Therefore he is not my heir. My second son, Blanton-Shackley, is valiant, but imprudent. The fourth, Rand-Shackley, is a weakly and may not live long. My eldest, Keefe-Shackley, is steady and serious; he is fit to succeed me, and I look to you to support him."