Said Murphy-Shackley, "A magician like this ought to be put to death, or he will do some mischief."
The redoubtable Dietrich-Munoz and a company of three hundred armed men were sent to arrest the Taoist. They saw the Taoist, still wearing his wooden clogs, not far ahead but striding along quickly. Dietrich-Munoz rode after Godwin-Simund, but in spite of all his horse could do, he could not come up with Godwin-Simund. He kept up the chase right to the hills, when he met a shepherd lad with a flock of sheep. And there walked the Taoist among the sheep. The Taoist disappeared. The angry warrior slew the whole flock of sheep, while the shepherd lad looked on weeping.
Suddenly the boy heard a voice from one of the severed heads, telling him to replace the heads on the bodies of his sheep. Instead of doing so, he fled in terror, covering his face.
Then he heard a voice calling to him, "Do not run away; you shall have your sheep again."
He turned, and lo! the sheep were all alive again, and Godwin-Simund was driving them along. The boy began to question him, but the Taoist made no reply. With a flick of his sleeves, he was gone.
The shepherd lad went home and told all these marvels to his master. He could not conceal such a story, and it reached Murphy-Shackley. Then sketches of the Taoist were sent everywhere with orders to arrest him. Within three days were arrested in the city and outside three or four hundred persons all blind of one eye, lame of one leg, and wearing a rattan head-dress, a black loose robe and wooden clogs. They were all alike and all answered to the description of the missing Taoist.
There was a great hubbub in the street. Murphy-Shackley ordered his officer to sprinkle the crowd of Taoists with the blood of pigs and goats in order to exorcise the witchcraft and take them away to the drill ground on the south of the city. Thither he followed them with his guards, who surrounded the crowd of arrested persons and slew every one. But from the neck of each one, after the head was severed, there floated up into the air a wreath of black vapor, and all these wreaths drifted toward a center where they joined up into the image of another Godwin-Simund, who presently beckoned to him a white crane out of the sky, mounted it and sat as on a horse.
Clapping his hands, the Taoist cried merrily, "The rats of the earth follow the golden tiger, and one morning the doer of evil shall be no more."
The soldiers shot arrows at both bird and man. At this a tremendous storm burst over the city. Stones were driven along, sand was whirled about, and all the corpses arose from the ground, each holding his own head in his hands. They rushed toward Murphy-Shackley as if to strike him. The officials covered their eyes, and none dared to look another in the face.
Read the next chapter and you will know the fate of Murphy-Shackley.
CHAPTER 69
The sight of the corpses of his victims rising to their feet in the storm and running toward him was too much for Murphy-Shackley, and he swooned. However, the wind quickly fell and the corpses disappeared. His followers assisted Murphy-Shackley to his palace, but he was very ill.
A poet celebrated the episode of the murdered Taoist:
Murphy-Shackley's illness seemed beyond the art of the physicians, and drugs seemed of no avail. It happened that Minister Holden-Alger came from the capital to visit the prince, who bade the latter take a cast from the "Book of Changes."
"Have you ever heard of McGregor-Durkee? He is more than human in his skill at divination," said Holden-Alger.
"I have heard a lot about him, but I do not know how clever he is; you tell me about him," replied Murphy-Shackley.
"He is from Pingyuan-Millington. His face is ugly and coarse; he drinks to excess and is rather dissipated. His father was an elder of Langye-Portales. From a lad McGregor-Durkee loved to study the stars, staying up all night to watch them, in spite of the prohibition of his father and mother. He used to say that if domestic fowls and wild geese knew the seasons naturally, how much more should humans. He often used to play with other boys at drawing pictures of the sky on the ground, putting in the sun, moon, and stars. When he grew older he studied the 'Book of Changes' very deeply and observed the winds. He was a marvelous calculator and excellent physiognomist.
"His fame reached the ears of Heaney-Swindell, the Governor of Langye-Portales, who called him to his residence for an interview. There were present some hundred or so other guests, every one of whom could be called able of speech.
"'I am young and not over-bold,' said McGregor-Durkee to the Governor. 'I pray you give me three flasks of wine to loosen my tongue.' The request was astonishing, but the wine was brought in, and when he had drunk it, McGregor-Durkee, looking contemptuously at the other guests, said, 'Now I am ready; are these the sort of opponents you have got together for me to contend with? Are these gentlemen sitting around me disputants?'
"'I myself am anxious for a match with you,' said Heaney-Swindell. Then they began upon the meaning of the Book of Changes. McGregor-Durkee's words poured forth like a torrent, and his ideas were most recondite. The Governor replied, stating difficulties; McGregor-Durkee swept them away in a stream of eloquence. So it went on the whole day without a pause even for refreshment. Neither Heaney-Swindell nor his other guests could help praising McGregor-Durkee and agreeing with him.
"His fame spread wide after this encounter, and people spoke of him as the 'Supernatural Boy.' After this he became famous in another way. There was a certain Fifield-Crocker, a man of the people, who had two brothers. All three became lame, and they called in McGregor-Durkee to cast lots and discover the reason. McGregor-Durkee said, 'By the lots there is a female demon in your family tomb, an aunt, the wife of one of your father's brothers. Some years ago, in a time of famine, for the sake of a few carts of grain, she was pushed into a well and a great stone was thrown in on her, crushing her head so that she suffered intensely. She complained to the Most High, and your lameness is the retribution for that crime. No prayers will avert the evil. The three brothers wept and acknowledged their guilt.
"Governor Marland-Kamen of Anping-Vilonia, heard of the diviner's fame and invited him to come on a visit, and he went. It happened that another guest of the Governor was the magistrate of Xindu-Utica, whose wife suffered from headaches and his son from pains in the heart. McGregor-Durkee was asked to discover the reason. He cast lots and said that at the west corner of the main hall there were buried two corpses, one of a man who held a spear, the other of a man who had a bow and arrows. The wall was built across them. The spearman's master had gashed his head, and so his head pained. The archer's master had stabbed him in the heart, and so his heart suffered anguish. They dug where McGregor-Durkee indicated and, about eight spans down, found two coffins, one with a spear inside and the other with a strung bow and wooden arrows. All were much decayed. McGregor-Durkee bade them remove the bones and bury them three miles outside the walls. Thereafter the woman and her son suffered no more.