Then it was that Doctor Mo bethought him of the door, which Han Li, at the very first step into the room, had resolutely refused to suffer him to bar. It came upon him all in a rush that even then the lad had been laying the groundwork of that sleight, hiding within his breast the plan to turn the sunlight's reflection to his own use. And this youth, of so tender an age, had contrived so many things — had laid so close and deadly a chain of traps that he, an old hand grown hoary upon the rivers and lakes, had fallen headlong into it, scarce able to turn himself over again. That a heart could be so deep as this, so far out of all measure with his years and his experience — could it be that the lad was in very truth a heaven-sent prodigy, an infant sage come down again into the world?
He turned the whole matter over and over in his mind, and the more he turned it the more dread it grew upon him, until cold sweat streamed without cease down every limb.
After this check, Doctor Mo's fear and caution toward Han Li stood yet higher than before. He faced the lad with the utmost wariness, and for a while dared not venture another stroke.
As for Han Li, for some reason he likewise did no more than stare at Doctor Mo, with not the least intent of pressing the attack. And so, of a sudden, the two fell back from battle into a stubborn silence, glaring each at the other with eyes wide and unblinking.
After a little, out of the awkward hush Han Li of a sudden opened his mouth and spoke a single sentence, at which Doctor Mo stood struck dumb, gaping on the spot.
"Elder Mo," quoth he, "let us make peace, the two of us. Or else — I surrender. What say you to that?"
And saying so, he flung his hand aside, tossed his weapon clean to the floor at his own feet, and turned upon Doctor Mo a smile of snow-white teeth, all in the plain earnest look of a country lad, simple and guileless.
"Surrender?" Doctor Mo at first fancied his ears had gone amiss and he had misread the other's words; but straightway he took it in, cast his eyes down at the iron spike Han Li had cast away, and, believing not a whit, snarled in answer:
"What crooked scheme is this you hatch? Think you I shall credit such a pack of lies? Had you meant to surrender, you could have done so at the very first. Why must you fight tooth and nail to the death, and then come round with this?"
Han Li smiled at him and held his peace, as though owning the charge by his very silence; and for a while the two fell once more into their wary standoff.
But a moment later Doctor Mo bethought him of somewhat so droll that he could scarce restrain himself; of a sudden he doubled over, hugged his belly tight with both hands, and burst into ringing laughter, so free and full that the tears came to bead at the corners of his eyes.
"Ha! Ha! Ha, ha, ha! Truly... truly droll, this! That I should have forgot a thing so weighty, and gone at you... at you blade to blade, with such honest steel." And through the broken, breathless laughter he stammered out the words, thick and indistinct.
Han Li knit his brow; but an instant later he smoothed it out again, as one who cared not a jot. He cast a glance toward the window, and as the smile about his lips grew the richer, began in a leisurely tone, free from all haste:
"Elder Mo, does it not strike you that we have dallied here overlong? The hour of ending is come."
Doctor Mo was caught a little aback, and his laughter ceased.
Slowly he straightened himself, set his face hard, and looked upon Han Li with an empty, expressionless gaze. Only after a while did he answer, in a bleak, grating voice:
"It strikes me too, that it is time to put an end to all this."
And of a sudden both men were grown full of confidence, each certain of victory, as though in that selfsame breath each had found the very card that should bring the other to heel.
A cold silence fell; and at length it was Han Li who spoke again, unhurried, trusting utterly in what lay within his grasp — certain that it would drive Doctor Mo to yield, and kill in him every further thought of mischief.
"Elder Mo, do you know that your very life now lies within my hands?" The very opening of his mouth was enough to astonish.
"My life in your hands?" Doctor Mo laughed coldly and long, his face all disbelief.
"Do you not find somewhat amiss about your wound?"
"Rubbish! I looked most carefully, and there was nothing on your short sword..." Doctor Mo began to retort, but broke off mid-word, his countenance changing utterly; for it came back to him that it was not the short sword at all that had wounded him, but that hidden spike.
"Then there is no need for me to say more," said Han Li, all smiles; "Elder Mo has taken my meaning of himself."
"And what of it if I have? Do not forget, boy, that every art of medicinable poison you know, I taught you. What poison can there be that I cannot cure?" And Doctor Mo's face settled once more into its normal calm, and his voice was steady.
"Ah!" laughed Han Li. "I forgot to say — the blade I carried is anointed with the Entangling Incense Threads."
"Entangling Incense Threads?" A low exclamation of surprise escaped Doctor Mo; plainly the thing was far beyond what he had looked for.
"Aye. Elder Mo, no doubt you know the potency of this drug." Han Li's tone was a slow, easy raillery.
"Nonsense! How should you know to compound such a poison? I am certain I never let slip one whit of its recipe." Doctor Mo on the surface still held firm, seeming not to believe the lad's words; yet from the strange stirring at his wound he had already confirmed the truth in his heart, eight or nine parts certain.
Seeing that Doctor Mo would not yet soften his tongue, Han Li heaved a sigh, and so was put to the trouble of explaining the whole matter.
"Elder, do not forget — in those days your medical books lay wide open before me. This recipe was tucked away inside a little-read pharmacopoeia; had I not been reading most carefully, in truth I should have passed it by."
Then it was that Doctor Mo remembered how, when he had first obtained this very recipe, the herbs required in its compounding were so many and the steps so intricate, that for fear of forgetting some part of it thereafter, he had copied out the method of its making and the herbs it wanted, at full length, upon a single slip of paper, and chanced to tuck it into some volume or other. Later, what with the many things that had come to pass, he had clean forgot the slip. Little did he dream that it should now prove so great a boon to Han Li, and bring upon him so heavy a debt of trouble.
"Let us sit down, then, and talk it over at leisure," said Han Li, in full confidence, "and settle how this peace may be made between us, hand clasped in hand."
Doctor Mo only gave a snort, paying the lad no heed, and set his mind to call back from memory the way of compounding the Entangling Incense Threads, and the virtue of the drug.
The name "Entangling Incense Threads" sounds not the least formidable; it even sets a man to dreaming, and calls to mind some tender, fragrant fancy. Yet the puissance of the drug is even as the yearning of a lovesick heart — so hard a thing to bear, that thread upon thread it eats into the very bone.