at once. This writing-case I will leave here. I brought it because it
contains my father's petition."

So saying, she took her leave, and Tu retired to his easy-chair under
the cotton-tree. But the demon of curiosity was abroad, and alighting on
the arm of Tu's chair, whispered in his ear that it might be well if he
ran his eye over Colonel Wen's petition to see if there was any argument
in it which he had omitted in his statement to the Board of War. At
first, Tu, whose nature was the reverse of inquisitive, declined to
listen to these promptings, but so persistent did they become that he
at last put down his book--"The Spring and Autumn Annals"--and,
seating himself, at the sitting-room table, opened the writing-case
so innocently left by Jasmine. On the top were a number of red
visiting-cards bearing the inscription, in black, of Wen Tsunk'ing, and
beneath these was the petition. Carefully Tu read it through, and passed
mental eulogies on it as he proceeded. The colonel had put his case
skilfully, but Tu had no difficulty in recognising Jasmine's hand,
both in the composition of the document and in the penmanship. "If my
attempt," he thought, "does not succeed, we will try what this will do."
He was on the point of returning it to its resting-place, when he
saw another document in Jasmine's handwriting lying by it. This was
evidently a formal document, probably connected, as he thought, with the
colonel's case, and he therefore unfolded it and read as follows:

"The faithful maiden, Miss Wen of Mienchu Hien, with burning incense
reverently prays the God of War to release her father from his
present difficulties, and speedily to restore peace to her own soul by
nullifying, in accordance with her desire, the engagement of the bamboo
arrow and the contract of the box of precious ointment. A respectful
petition."