her jewels, charging him on no account to tell her mother. Then, with a
great sum of money in her possession she sought out the magician who was
said to be wiser than the sages in knowledge of life and death.

"Tell me," she implored, as the greybeard summoned her to his presence,
"tell me how I can save my father, for the Emperor has ordered his death
if he fails a third time in the casting of the bell."

The astrologer, after plying her with questions, put on his
tortoise-shell glasses and searched long in his book of knowledge. He
also examined closely the signs of the heavens, consulting the mystic
tables over and over again. Finally, he turned toward Ko-ai, who all the
time had been awaiting his answer with impatience.

"Nothing could be plainer than the reason of your father's failure, for
when a man seeks to do the impossible, he can expect Fate to give him no
other answer. Gold cannot unite with silver, nor brass with iron, unless
the blood of a maiden is mingled with the molten metals, but the girl
who gives up her life to bring about the fusion must be pure and good."

With a sigh of despair Ko-ai heard the astrologer's answer. She loved
the world and all its beauties; she loved her birds, her companions, her
father; she had expected to marry soon, and then there would have been
children to love and cherish. But now all these dreams of happiness must
be forgotten. There was no other maiden to give up her life for Kwan-yu.
She, Ko-ai, loved her father and must make the sacrifice for his sake.

And so the day arrived for the third trial, and a third time Yung-lo
took his place in Kwan-yu's factory, surrounded by his courtiers. There
was a look of stern expectancy on his face. Twice he had excused his