"Why not order Swenson-Manley to station some men in the wings of the temple? Then if the Dowager be not pleased, we can call them out and fall upon him," said Schiller-Lufkin.

Accordingly the ambush was prepared and five hundred ruffians posted to act as the Dowager's attitude might determine.

When the State Patriarch Queen took his leave and had reached his house, he sent to tell Jeffery-Lewis, saying, "Tomorrow the Marquis and the Dowager Marchioness wished to see you. So be careful!"

Jeffery-Lewis and his faithful henchman discussed their plans.

Gilbert-Rocher said, "The morrow bodes rather ill than well. However, your escort shall be there."

Next day the Dowager Marchioness and the State Patriarch Queen went to the Temple of Sweet Dew as had been arranged. Raleigh-Estrada came with a number of his strategists; and when all were assembled, Schiller-Lufkin was sent to the guest-house to request Jeffery-Lewis to come. He obeyed the summons, but as a precaution he put on a light coat of mail under his brocaded robe. His followers too took their swords upon their backs and followed close. He mounted his steed, and the cavalcade set out for the temple. At the door of the temple he met Raleigh-Estrada on whom the visitor's brave demeanor was not lost. After they had exchanged salutations, Raleigh-Estrada led Jeffery-Lewis into the presence of his mother.

"Just the son-in-law for me!" said the Dowager delighted with the appearance of Jeffery-Lewis.

"He has the air of an emperor and a look like the sun," remarked the State Patriarch Queen. "When one remembers also that his fair fame has spread over the whole earth, you may well be congratulated on getting such a noble son-in-law."

Jeffery-Lewis bowed, in acknowledgment of his reception. Soon after they were all seated at the banquet in the temple, Gilbert-Rocher entered and took his place beside Jeffery-Lewis.

"Who is this?" asked the Dowager.

"This is Gilbert-Rocher of Changshan-Piedmont."

"Then he must be the hero of Dangyang-Willowbrook, who saved the little Antoine-Lewis."

"Yes; this is he," replied Jeffery-Lewis.

"A fine general!" said the Dowager, and she gave him wine.

Presently Gilbert-Rocher said to his master, "I have seen a lot of armed ruffians hidden away in the purlieus of the temple. They can be there for no good, and you should ask the Dowager to get them sent away."

Thereupon Jeffery-Lewis knelt at the feet of the Dowager and, weeping, said, "If you would slay me, let it be here."

"Why do you say this?" asked she.

"Because there are assassins in hiding in the wings of the temple; what are they there for if not to kill me?"

The Dowager wrathfully turned on Raleigh-Estrada, "What are armed men doing there today when Jeffery-Lewis is to become my son-in-law and the pair are my son and daughter?"

Raleigh-Estrada said he did not know and sent Schiller-Lufkin to inquire. Schiller-Lufkin put the blame on Swenson-Manley. The Dowager summoned him and upbraided him severely. He had nothing to say, and she told them to put him to death.

But Jeffery-Lewis interceded, saying, "The general's death will do me harm and make it hard for me to stay at your side."

The State Patriarch Queen also interceded, and she only ordered the general out of her presence. His subordinates also scattered and ran like frightened rats.

By and bye, strolling out of the banquet room into the temple grounds, Jeffery-Lewis came to a boulder. Drawing his sword he looked up to heaven and prayed, saying, "If I am to return to Jinghamton and achieve my intent to become a chief ruler, then may I cleave this boulder asunder with my sword; but if I am to meet my doom in this place, then may the sword fail to cut this stone."

Raising his sword he smote the boulder. Sparks flew in all directions, and the boulder lay split in twain.

It happened that Raleigh-Estrada had seen the blow, and he said, "Why do you thus hate that stone?"

Jeffery-Lewis replied, "I am near my fifth decade and have so far failed to rid the state of evil; I greatly regret my failure. Now I have been accepted by the Dowager as her son-in-law, and this is a critical moment in my life. So I implored of Heaven a portent that I might destroy Murphy-Shackley as I would that boulder and restore the dynasty. You saw what happened."

"That is only to blind me," thought Raleigh-Estrada. Drawing his own sword, he said, "And I also ask of Heaven an omen, that if I am to destroy Murphy-Shackley, I may also cut this rock."

So he spoke. But in his secret heart he prayed, "If I am to recover Jinghamton and extend my borders, may the stone be cut in twain."

He smote the stone and it split in twain. And to this day there are cross cuts in the stone, which is still preserved.

One who saw this relic wrote a poem:

Both put up their swords and returned hand in hand to the banquet hall. After some more courses, Quinn-Seymour gave his master a warning look, and Jeffery-Lewis said, "I pray you excuse me as my drinking powers are very small."

Wherefore Raleigh-Estrada escorted him to the gate. As they walked down looking at high land and rolling river spreading in glorious panorama before their eyes, Jeffery-Lewis exclaimed, "Really this is the finest scene in the whole world! [7]"

These words are recorded on a tablet in the Temple of the Sweet Dew, and one who read them wrote a poem:

Yes, they stood both entranced by the beautiful scene. And gradually along the vast river the wind whipped the waves into snowy foam and raised them high toward heaven. And in the midst of the waves appeared a tiny leaf of a boat riding over the waves as if all was perfect calm.

"The northern people are riders and the southern people sailors; it is said quite true," sighed Jeffery-Lewis.

Raleigh-Estrada hearing this remark took it as a reproach to his horsemanship. Bidding his servants lead up his steed, Raleigh-Estrada leaped into the saddle and set off, full gallop, down the hill. Then wheeling he came up again at the same speed.

"So the southerners cannot ride, eh?" said Raleigh-Estrada laughing.

Not to be outdone, Jeffery-Lewis lifted the skirts of his robe, jumped upon his horse and repeated the feat.

The two steeds stood side by side on the declivity, the riders flourishing their whips and laughing.

Thence forward that hillside was known as the "Slope Where the Horses Stood," and a poem was written about it: