Now that all need of caution was at an end, Ling rushed forward with raised sword, calling to his men that victory was certainly theirs, and dealing discriminating and inspiriting blows whenever he met a foeman.

Three times he formed the bowmen into a figure emblematic of triumph, and led them against the line of matchlocks.

Twice they fell back, leaving mingled dead under the feet of the enemy.

The third time they stood firm, and Ling threw himself against the waving rank in a noble and inspired endeavour to lead the way through.

At that moment, when a very distinguished victory seemed within his hand, his elegant and well-constructed sword broke upon an iron shield, leaving him defenceless and surrounded by the enemy.
"Chief among the sublime virtues enjoined by the divine Confucius," began Ling, folding his arms and speaking in an unmoved voice, "is an intelligent submission--" but at that word he fell beneath a rain of heavy and unquestionably well-aimed blows.
VII Between Si-chow and the village of Ki, in a house completely hidden from travellers by the tall and black trees which surrounded it, lived an aged and very wise person whose ways and manner of living had become so distasteful to his neighbours that they at length agreed to regard him as a powerful and ill-disposed magician.