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He remembered now that he had once heard his father speak of having lived in a large house on a beautiful compound. It was just before K'ang-p'u's mother had been carried away by the fever.
One after another the houses were entered and robbed. Women were screaming and children crying. Nearly all the village men were away in a distant market town, for none of them had expected an attack. Nearer and nearer came the robbers. At last they were next door to K'ang-p'u's hut, and he knew the time had come for him to do his duty.
With a cry of thanksgiving, Ying-lo flung his arms about his parents and descended with them to the shore. "Yes, my boy, whatever happens, be sure to save that tablet. It is the only thing we have left worth keeping." K'ang-p'u's father was just setting out for the city, to be gone all day.
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