sturdy young woman, and she can't speak a word of Chinese! Won't that be nice and quiet in the house?'
Tao Gan shook his head. His long face was even more sad than usual when he said darkly:
'Don't you give yourself illusions, my friend! I assure you that in a week or two that woman will be talking your head off, and in fluent Chinese too!'
But Ma Joong was not to be discouraged.
'I'll go there tonight', he said, 'and anyone who wants to go with me is welcome. You'll find fine girls there, and they don't conceal their charms either!'
Chiao Tai tightened his belt. He shouted impatiently:
'Can't you fellows talk about something more important than mere women? Come along, let us be off and have a real good breakfast! There is nothing better for an empty stomach than a few cups of warm wine!'
All agreed that those were wise words, they walked together to the main gate.
In the meantime Judge Dee had changed into his hunting dress. He ordered a clerk to have his favourite horse brought from the stables.
The judge swung himself on its back. He pulled his neck cloth up over his mouth and nose. Then he rode out into the street.
The streets were full of people standing about in groups. They were discussing the execution of the two criminals and paid no attention to this solitary horseman.
When the judge rode through the southern gate he spurred on his horse. On the execution ground the constables were still busy clearing away the temporary bench. They had raked clean sand over the blood stains.
Once he was in the fields Judge Dee slowed down. He inhaled the fresh morning air and looked at the peaceful scene. But even in these pleasant surroundings he found no rest for his troubled thoughts.
The scene on the execution ground had as always deeply shocked the judge. He was relentless as long as he was working on a case; but as soon as the criminal had been found and had confessed, Judge Dee always longed to dismiss the case from his thoughts. He hated his duty of supervising the execution with all its horrible, bloody detail.
The plan to resign from official life that had been at the back of the judge's mind ever since his conversation with Master Crane Robe had now developed into a compelling desire. The judge reflected that he was just past forty; it was not too late to begin a new life on the small farm that he possessed in his native province.
What was better than a quiet life in peaceful retirement, devoting himself to reading and writing and giving full attention to the education of his children? What was the use of spending his every waking hour on all the wickedness and the sordid schemes of criminal minds, while life had so many good and beautiful things to offer?
There were countless capable officials to fill his place. And could he not serve the state as well by composing, as he had often planned to do, treatises setting forth in easy language the lofty doctrines of the Classics so that everyone could understand them?
Yet Judge Dee felt doubtful. What would happen to the Empire if all officials took this same aloof attitude? Was it not his duty to give his sons a chance later to enter upon an official career? Could the sheltered life on a small farm prepare those youngsters sufficiently for their future?
As he spurred on his horse Judge Dee shook his head. The answer to his problem lay in that difficult couplet he had seen on the wall of Master Crane Robe's abode:
'There are but two roads that lead to the gate of
Eternal Life:
Either one bores his head in the mud like a worm,
or like a dragon flies up high into the sky.'
Ever since that strange visit these lines had been buzzing in his thoughts. Judge Dee sighed. He would leave it to the old master to decide for him. He would explain which of the two roads the judge should take.
When he had come to the foot of the mountain ridge Judge Dee jumped from his horse. He called a peasant who was working in his field nearby and asked him to look after the animal.
As the judge turned to begin the ascent, two wood gatherers came down the mountain path. They were an old couple, their faces were wrinkled and their hands as gnarled as the dry wood they were carrying on their backs.
The man halted in his steps. He put his load of faggots down. Wiping the perspiration from his forehead, he looked up at the judge and asked politely:
'Where might the gentleman be bound for?'
'I am on my way to visit Master Crane Robe', the judge answered curtly.
The old man slowly shook his head.
'You will not find him, my lord', he said. 'Four days ago we found his house empty. The door was slamming in the wind and the rain had spoilt all his flowers. Now I and my old woman here use that house for storing our wood.'
A feeling of utter loneliness assailed the judge.
'You can save yourself the trouble of going up there, my lord!', said the peasant and handed the reins back to Judge Dee.
As the judge took them absent-mindedly he asked the wood gatherer:
'What happened to the old master? Did you find his dead body?'
A sly smile rippled over the wrinkled face as the old man slowly shook his head.
'Men such as him', he replied, 'don't die like you or me, my lord! They never really belong to this world to begin with. In the end they fly up into the azure vault of heaven like a winged dragon. They leave nothing but emptiness behind!'
The old man shouldered his burden and went his way.
Suddenly understanding flashed through Judge Dee's mind. This then was the answer!
He said with a smile to the peasant:
'Well, I belong very much to this world of ours! I shall continue boring my head into the mud!'
He swung himself in the saddle and rode back to the city.
POSTSCRIPT
A feature all old Chinese detective stories have in common is that the role of detective is always played by the magistrate of the district where the crime occurred.
This official is in charge of the entire administration of the district under his jurisdiction, usually comprising one walled city and the countryside around it for fifty miles or so. The magistrate's duties are manifold. He is fully responsible for the collection of taxes, the registration of births, deaths and marriages, keeping up to date the land registration, the maintenance of the peace etc., while as presiding judge of the local tribunal he is charged with the apprehension and punishing of criminals and the hearing of all civil and criminal cases. Since the magistrate thus supervises practically every phase of the daily life of the people, he is commonly referred to in Chinese as the 'Father-and-mother Official'.
The' magistrate is a permanently overworked official. He lives with his family in separate quarters inside the compound of the tribunal, and often spends his every waking hour upon his official duties.
The district magistrate is at the bottom of the colossal pyramidal structure of ancient Chinese government organization. He must report to the prefect, who supervises ten or more districts. The prefect reports to the provincial governor, who is responsible for several prefectures. The governor in his turn reports to the central authorities in the capital, with the Emperor at the top.
Every citizen in the Empire, whether rich or poor and without regard for social background, could enter official life and become a district magistrate by passing the literary examinations instituted by the Government. In this respect the Chinese system was already a rather democratic one at a time when Europe was still under strict
