Chapter V

It was Ja-Jo-Mi, the Prime Minister, who had been the chief cause of all the evils which had come to Sun-Yen and San-Houni. This dignitary, no longer having any one to fear, enjoyed absolute power. The King had entire confidence in him and placed in his hands the administration of the government. Ja-Jo-Mi had taken advantage of this to give all the important and lucrative offices to his followers. For example, he discharged in disgrace a general whom he disliked and replaced him with one of his most zealous but incompetent partisans. Even with all this power the ambitious Minister was not satisfied. Why should he not push things to the limit and place himself upon the throne? For the present, it was only a dream which Ja-Jo-Mi hoped to realize some day. But he was only awaiting a favorable occasion and this was not long in presenting itself.

The King fell suddenly ill. His condition became so grave that the leading physicians of the Kingdom were obliged to confess their inability to cure him. He was well aware of his serious condition and cherished no illusions about it. He sensed the flutter of the wings of Death--wings drenched with the tears of weeping humanity. He sent for the Prime Minister, to whom he spoke after the following fashion:

“I am going to die. My great regret is in leaving a son too young efficiently to govern the country. Factions will take advantage of the situation to disturb the peace of the Kingdom. Yet I want my son to succeed me on the throne. Consequently I am requiring of you a further proof of your devotion. Promise me to give this child the guidance of your counsel and wisdom. Teach him to govern kindly and finish his education.”

Ja-Jo-Mi, the unscrupulous, swore solemnly that he would faithfully observe the last commands of his master. The monarch desired to see his son, so the latter was brought to his bedside. The King tenderly took the youth in his arms. He seemed to wish, through him, to cling longer to the life he was leaving. But the fatal hour had come; he drew his last breath in a sob.

His son, overcome by grief, uttered wild cries--“Oh, my father, my only refuge, why do you forsake me? Why must you leave me?” Finally he fell into a swoon.

The Prime Minister, who was present at this scene, tried to calm the young Prince with profuse and hypocritical condolences. His words were far from being in accord with his inner thoughts. The King’s death filled his soul with joy, for it rendered easier the project he had been dreaming about for so long.

When the funeral ceremonies were over, the Governors of the provinces held a conference upon the question of choosing a new King. The Governors’ choice naturally fell upon the shoulders of the deceased King’s son. This decision exasperated Ja-Jo-Mi; he protested furiously against it, saying that the Prince was too young to attend to affairs of state and he painted a very black picture of the conditions of the country if the government were placed in his hands.

“Moreover, the dying King appointed me to rule until his son should be capable of taking the throne.”

The Prime Minister expected favorable results from this announcement. The Governors, however, contented themselves with exchanging significant glances, but they did not utter a word in support of the Minister’s proposal.

This cold reception did not leave Ja-Jo-Mi any delusions as to the attitude of the Governors on the subject. Renouncing the powers of peaceful persuasion, he resolved to employ force. He summoned the General whose support he was assured of and said to him:

“You will throw into prison any official who is hostile to me.”

The General bowed in a sign of obedience and withdrew. Although very much terrified, the Governors did not submit peacefully to this new means of intimidation and Ja-Jo-Mi condemned several of the most influential of them to banishment. No one was in a position now to oppose the execution of his designs.

Having thus overridden the opposition of the Governors, Ja-Jo-Mi went to the young King.

“All powerful Prince,” he said, kneeling respectfully, “forgive me if I disturb you in your grief. The welfare of the people compels me to discuss with you certain things which I fain would defer to a more opportune moment.”

“Speak,” bade the young King.

“You are doubtless well aware that, according to the precepts laid down by the venerable philosopher, Kong-Ji, no one can reign in Korea before attaining a certain age. In spite of your exceptional intelligence and remarkable ability I fear that you are too young to rule alone. Your father, my regretted master, on his death bed, requested me to look after the interests of the State while you were preparing to assume them yourself. It is with great regret that I remind you of this last wish of the deceased King, for I am aggravating your sorrow, I know. But I hope that you will conform to your father’s desires and the philosopher’s wisdom.”

Ja-Jo-Mi had hoped to convince the Prince with these arguments. Great then was his astonishment when the youth replied:

“You are interpreting the last words of my dear father for your own ends and in your own interests. He asked you to guide and advise me but did not intimate that you should take my place at the head of the Koreans. Know then, that it is my intention to govern in person. I have nothing more to add.”

It was a summary dismissal. Ja-Jo-Mi, feigning to acquiesce in the desires of his sovereign, withdrew backwards, saying:

“Sire, it shall be as you wish.”

Thus the ambitious Minister had encountered, in the energy of the young King, a formidable obstruction in the path of his plans. But it did not discourage him. Since the Prince would not relinquish his post with a good grace, he would commandeer it by force. It would be very easy. All the office-holders at the Capital were devoted to Ja-Jo-Mi, for it was through him that they held their places. The people were not to be feared for they lacked leaders. One bright and beautiful day, the King found himself under arrest and transported to Cho-To. The Prime Minister had ordered the prisoner to be guarded by the troops day and night and the deposed Prince was kept under the strictest surveillance all the time.

Ja-Jo-Mi, the unscrupulous, for the time being, was master of the land. He hoped soon to be completely rid of the legitimate King and to finish his days tranquilly on the throne that he had so treacherously usurped.

These events had caused a growing unrest throughout the length and breadth of Korea. The people were talking and grumbling, but they did not dare openly to manifest their disapproval. The conduct of the Prime Minister became an every-day topic of conversation. On the street corners, bolder groups were wont to gather and discuss matters vigorously.

One day, when San-Syeng was out walking he noticed one of these crowds; he hurried back to his lodgings and inquired of Hong-Jun, his landlord, who had formerly held an important commission in the army,

“What has happened? I see that the inhabitants of this city, ordinarily so calm and peaceful, laboring under unusual excitement. What’s the cause of it?”

“What, don’t you know?” replied Hong-Jun. “It is rumored that the Prime Minister, who always did have a detestable reputation, has just crowned his infamy by exiling the King’s son. Instead of occupying the throne, our young ruler is in prison.”

San-Syeng was thunder-struck. Heeding only the impulses of his noble heart, he resolved to discover some means to help the unfortunate young ruler.

He had a dream that night which served to strengthen his resolution. He saw in his dream a person whom he had already met in the course of his travels and who asked his name.

“My name is San-Syeng.”

“Good, I belong to the same family as you. My name is San-Houni. I was banished from the Capital by Ja-Jo-Mi. While on my way to the island of Ko-Kum-To I was murdered by the robber Su-Rung. Listen, for I have something to ask of you. At this very moment, the deceased King’s son is in exile at Cho-To. He is also a victim of Ja-Jo-Mi. Go, help him.”

San-Syeng told his questioner that he had fully made up his mind to assist the young ruler. “Can you not,” he added subsequently, “give me some information about my family?”

“It is impossible for me to grant your wish for the present,” was the rejoinder, and the vision disappeared. When San-Syeng awoke he recalled his dream in all its minute details.

What could this mystery be which surrounded Su-Rung? San-Syeng had heard the man whom he regarded as a father spoken of as a thief and now he was pictured as an assassin. All this gave the young man food for serious reflection. However, the most urgent matter now was to go to the succour of the young exile and San-Syeng took immediate steps to leave for Cho-To.

It was an island that was easily accessible but by the orders of Ja-Jo-Mi no one was permitted to land there without a permit from the Prime Minister. In vain did San-Syeng try to evade the vigilance of the soldiers who were guarding the shore. He was forced to confess that it was impossible to land on the island. Not disheartened by his failure, however, he resolved to await more auspicious circumstances for the carrying out of his project.

* * * * *

_Here endeth the fifth stage of our legend._

VI