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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Why did you do this thing, Nita?" he asked. "My lord knows," she answered simply. "I did it to bring evil upon this English woman whom he has preferred. I did it that he might understand. It was my lord himself who told me that she was a spy. Now it is proved." Prince Shan's fingers stole into the pocket of his coat. He held out a crumpled sheet of paper, on which was written a single sentence.
I wonder whether we shall ever understand the exact nature of the danger with which we were faced." "It depends upon Prince Shan," she replied. "The terms were Immelan's, but the method was his." "Do you believe," he asked a little abruptly, "that the attempt on Prince Shan's life last night was made by Immelan?"
She pictured to herself the agreement signed, some nameless terror already launched. She remembered that Nigel had complained of Naida's inaccessibility during the last few days. She herself had been surprised at Prince Shan's apparent withdrawal, temporary though it might be, from the peculiar but impressive position which he had taken up with regard to her.
Meantime, Miao Shan's soul, which remained unhurt, was borne on a cloud; when, waking as from a dream, she lifted her head and looked round, she could not see her body. "My father has just had me strangled," she sighed. "How is it that I find myself in this place?
"It is finished," was the calm reply. Immelan stroked his short moustache thoughtfully. "Is it wise?" he ventured. "She has been faithful and assiduous. She knows many things." Prince Shan's eyes were filled with mild wonder. "She has had some years of my occasional companionship," he said. "It is surely as much as she could hope for or expect. We are not like you Westerners, Immelan," he went on.
She stood before him simply, like a slave who pleads. Not a muscle of Prince Shan's face moved. "It is to be good-night, Nita," he answered calmly. Her head drooped, and she passed out. She had the air of a flower whose petals have been bruised. Immelan looked after her curiously, almost compassionately. "It is finished, then, with the little one, Prince?" he enquired.
Walking backwards as nimbly as a cat, his head drooped, his hands in front of him, Li Wen left his master's presence. A moment later he reappeared, ushering in La Belle Nita. Prince Shan waved him away. The girl came slowly forward, pale and trembling, smouldering fires in her narrow eyes. Not a muscle of Prince Shan's face moved. He watched her approach in silence.
"If he were a god wielding thunderbolts," Nigel observed, "he could scarcely do much harm to Maggie here in London." "There was an artist once," she said reflectively, "who drew a caricature of Prince Shan and sent it to the principal comic paper in America. It was such a success that a little time later on he followed it up with another, which included a line of Prince Shan's ancestors.
The Antrim Scots were supposed to be in alliance with O'Donnell; whom however Shan's proceedings were now causing to seek English friendship, whereas the Scots were antagonistic to Elizabeth, holding that their own Queen Mary had the better title to the English throne.
She became noted for her modesty and many other good qualities, and scrupulously observed all the tenets of the Buddhist doctrines. Virtuous living seemed, indeed, to be to her a second nature. Miao Shan's Ambition
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