Page:Frank Owen - The Scarlett Hill, 1941.djvu/332

RV 327 (VICTORY) China has ever known. Wait for whatever happens in the gardens among the flowers that love you."

"Wait?" she said. "Wait?" She struggled to regain her composure. Hungrily his arms crept about her, holding her so tightly she could scarcely breathe.

The silence was at drum pitch. In the garden outside the windows not a bird sang, not a flower moved, not a leaf stirred. Even the wind was hushed.

And then she spoke, from the fullness of her heart. "Take me with you. Where you go, I want to be also. Though he live forever, An Lu-shan has died in my heart."

Ming Huang held her close. No matter what might happen, he could never be conquered now. Yang Kuei-fei was his, his alone.

At sunrise he set out at the head of a straggling, untrained, army in which a spirit of boisterousness was paramount. Half the monstrous army was afoot even though there were mounts enough for all, for many of the valiant warriors were too stupid even to straddle a horse. Hundreds were belched from wine shops, and plunged along, gazing with bloodshot eyes on a sight so strange that they were at a loss to know whether they were on the way to an elaborate circus or whether through the prank of some evil genius they had been transformed into cattle and were now being herded. However, what matter since the shepherds were gentle and did not amuse themselves by prodding their RV 327 (327)