Page:Frank Owen - The Scarlett Hill, 1941.djvu/87

RV 82 (PORTRAIT OF AN EMPEROR) surveyed the scene. He, too, was drunk, drunk with power. He needed no wine, for his head was a maze of plans and ambitions. The future loomed in brilliant glory. He was unconquerable.

For three days the festivities continued, much to the chagrin of Duke Bonimet for he wished to be alone, unhampered by state functions, that he might gloat over the treasures that had been given him by Chang Shou-kuei. But the people of the Duke's realm held an opinion that was the direct antithesis to his. Never had they been surfeited by such an abundance of food. Many had conversed with the men who dwelt in Kuo-chou. In bewilderment, they discovered that in that province there was no such thing as hunger. Nor were there any mendicants. The storehouses of Chang Shou-kuei were within the earth. The farmers went out with reverence into the fields. Their bare feet dug into the warm, new-turned soil as though they were taking root. From the earth they drew strength, these men who were as strong as oak trees. To them the soil gave its best. No longer was the earth flayed by countless marching men engaged in combat. Dawn rolled out over a peaceful country.

It was like listening to folktales of lost lands where people lived and died magnificently. And the men who should have been loyal to Duke Bonimet found their loyalty breaking and crumbling away. A whisper sprang up and crept about among the people, a whisper as RV 82 (82)