It was a crisp, chill November afternoon, with just a hint of frost in the air that made it bracing. Milky clouds dimmed the intense blue of the heavens, an occasional gust of wind tore off bright-hued leaves from the trees and tossed them gayly about, and already the grass was turning brown. But in the imperial Flower Garden there was as yet no sign of fading flowers or winter bareness, and as the Empress Tuen came out into it, attended by richly apparelled ladies of the court, and followed by slaves and eunuchs, she saw only a scene of beauty. She too was in the autumn of life now. Her eyes no longer sparkled with the fire of youth, her cheeks, once pink as a lotus bloom,[Pg 184] were now marked by the cruel furrows of time, and her figure had lost its girlish grace many a year ago, for to-day was her sixtieth birthday. The day was to have been celebrated throughout the Empire with a lavish magnificence that would render it the greatest event in Chinese history for many centuries, for her loyal subjects had planned to render fitting honor to this remarkable woman. The streets for ten miles were to have been covered with rich carpets and decorated with lamps and pictures, and the rarest wares—porcelains, bronzes, jade, and silver—were to have been arranged along this gorgeous avenue. But the inglorious war with Japan had so heavily taxed the people that, at the request of the Empress, these elaborate preparations had been abandoned, though many costly presents had been sent her from every province. Now, weary of gifts and adulation, she wished to be alone, to rest for[Pg 185] a time from the affairs of state. With a gesture all the attendants were dismissed, and she sat down in the massive stone chair on the bank of the placid Lake of Dreams. There was no more beautiful spot to be found in all the land than this Flower Garden where the Empress, when she tired of her gilded prison, came for a breath of outer air. It was adorned with graceful pavilions, temples, groves, and lakes, and many Emperors had exhausted the skill and ingenuity of the landscape gardeners of the realm in an endeavor to make this little park enchanting enough to beguile away the tedium of the days of "Heaven\'s Consort," as the Empress was styled. Flowers of every hue bloomed here; sparkling streams dashed down the sides of artificial mountains and wound like a silver ribbon among the flowers, their waters spanned here and there by quaintly carved marble bridges; the musical splashing of the fountains could[Pg 186] be heard through the stillness; half hid away under moss-covered rocks were dark, quiet pools where the lilies loved to bloom; stone grottoes nestled among the trees and overhanging vines, and shrubs cut into likenesses of lions, tigers, giraffes, elephants, and horses, grew beside the walks. In the distance the gilded roof of the Hall of Perfect Peace shone like a beacon, and the sun touched the burnished tower before the Tranquil Palace and transformed it into a pillar of fire, and then fell upon the top of the marble Gate of Extensive Peace, and lo, it seemed made of pearl and ivory. But to-day the Empress paid but slight attention to these glories of the capital, for her mind was filled with painful thoughts. Day by day dire reports came from the scene of war of the havoc wrought among her soldiers, and disgraceful accounts of defeat that made her blood boil. She had prayed unto the gods and offered[Pg 187] sacrifices unto them, and for many days she had burned incense on the altar of the God of War, but alas! the gods were deaf, and ruin threatened her kingdom. Her son, the Emperor, was weak and chara............