ROTHER, you were surely blind that you did not recognize your prisoner,” said the Lady Evening Glory, after the lovers had been carried from the room.

“His appearance, my lady, had no interest for me.”

“Now that you are aware he is her lover, what then?”

“All that is very fortunate. Whatever doubt I may have felt as to my daughter’s ability to ensnare this Mori prince into marrying her is now set at rest. She already possesses his affection. Nothing remains, therefore, to be done save to bring about their early union. This shall be effected just as soon as the young man regains sufficient strength. Meanwhile—”

“Meanwhile?”

“You have permission to despatch word to Choshui that a delay has been granted to the Prince. This will keep them for a time from attacking Catzu Toro. Also, the shogunate, availing itself of the time to march upon Choshui, will rescue your son.”

“But will not the Mori immediately retaliate by sending troops here to attempt the rescue of their own prince?”

“Not so, since the whereabouts of their prince is entirely unknown to them. As you are aware, his trial was in secret. Only the shogunate is acquainted with his present abode. The secret will be guarded, rest assured. In fact, for the very purpose of forestalling any such attempt on the part of the Mori, they have placed at my service a company of soldiers and a large number of spies.”

“What are your intentions with regard to this Mori prince?”

“He shall marry, as you already know, the Lady Wistaria, and in that way will become an outcast, both legally and morally.”

“And after their marriage?”

“Immediate notification of the fact to his father.”

“And after that? What of the order from the shogunate touching his execution?”

“It shall be destroyed. I have given my promise to my daughter.”

“But when this fact reaches the shogunate people they will resent it, and will never permit so valuable a prisoner to escape them. They will send troops, if necessary, to take him from you. In the event of your refusing to execute him, they will find another who will do so.”

“Very well, let them do so. I have no doubt, however, that the Prince Keiki will escape them. But having become an outcast, he will be useless as an Imperialist leader.”

“Which does not alter the fact that the Shogun’s men will continue to fear him. Even now, you say, their spies and soldiers are lurking about on all sides. I tell you it is quite impossible for him to escape them now.”

“Well, all that is his affair, my lady. So far as I am concerned, on the day of his Eta marriage I shall destroy the order of execution.”

“Which would be a criminal act, and one that would place you under the ban of the law.”

“That is true, but I shall answer, I assure you, for whatever unlawful acts I have committed during my lifetime to a higher tribunal than any that could be formed by the august shogunate.”

“Brother, what do your words imply?”

“Sister, I cannot answer that question yet. When my purpose in life is accomplished you shall have the answer. And after that, will you perform a favor for me?”

“Certainly.”

“The Lady Wistaria will be alone.”

“Alone? She will have a husband.”

“She will be alone, I repeat. Do you suppose I should rest peacefully in my grave with the knowledge that the blood of Mori was mingling with my own? I repeat once more, my daughter will be quite alone, sister. Be gentle with her, and as tender and kind as it is possible for one woman to be to another. She will not lack for worldly wealth, for I shall leave her a fortune. I do not wish her to return to Catzu. I desire that a small temple shall be built for her somewhere in a quiet and remote region. There I wish her to become a high priestess, to devote the remainder of her life to works of holiness and charity. In this way she will atone for the many sins of her father, and the gods will listen to her prayers and show charity to his soul.”

“Oh, brother, from your words I begin to have lamentable fears that you contemplate committing some frightful harm to yourself.”

“We are children of the same father, my lady. Your words surprise me. Surely they are unbefitting one of your blood and rank. Do you see any disgrace in my contemplations? I would rather wish that you would urge me to that deed you appear to dread, for otherwise my life would be without honor. Therefore lay aside your unworthy fears and assure me that you will carry out my wishes.”

“I shall do so, ani-san” (elder brother), she replied, somewhat brokenly.

“That is all, then. Why do you wait?”

“For a letter signed by you as executioner, stating that the execution has been postponed indefinitely. We must put Toro’s safety for the next few days beyond a doubt.”

Hastily writing a few words upon paper, the samurai handed it to his sister, who seized it eagerly. Then, having examined the scroll carefully, she murmured a few words of thanks and prepared to leave the room. The samurai stayed her.

“One moment. By whom do you send this paper to Choshui?”

“I have two couriers.”

“Well, but one of these samurai must attend you to Catzu.”

“Certainly.”

“Then only one can be sent to Choshui.”

“But why so? I shall not leave here until my couriers return with intelligence as to the fate of my son.”

“I can assure you, my lady, that your couriers will not return, and I should advise you to part with but one of the two samurai attending you.”

“Why—?”

“The Mori people will not let this courier depart, rest assured, unless he divulge the hiding-place of their prince. This no samurai would ever do. If your courier has not the wit, therefore, to deceive the Mori, I am very much afraid his life will be endangered by this undertaking.”

“And what samurai,” inquired the lady, quickly, “would not welcome the chance of thus giving up his life in the service of his lord? What I have to decide now is, which of the two samurai to send, for each will claim the privilege of the undertaking.”

“What are their names?”

“Sir Nishimua Matsue and Sir Takemoto Genji. The former has been in my lord’s service for twenty years, and is so trusted by him that whenever I am forced to travel alone, as at the present time, my lord intrusts me to his especial care. You are already acquainted with the history of the other, Sir Genji. He was one of your own comrades in Choshui, but after your exile he deserted the Mori and became a ronin. Afterwards my lord pressed him into our service, and he became attached personally to Lady Wistaria. You will see, therefore, that it is a difficult matter for me to choose between these two brave gentlemen.”

“Not at all. There is not the slightest doubt in my mind as to which is the most fit for the service. Bid the samurai Genji come hither, if you please.”

A few minutes later the big samurai Genji and Shimadzu were bowing deeply to each other. From their low bows of silent courtesy it was hard to believe that these two men had once been the closest of friends and comrades in arms. Now they met again after many years of separation, yet neither exhibited that emotion which lay at the bottom of their hearts. Shimadzu did not even allow opportunity for the usual exchange of compliments, but went straight to the point.

“My good friend, your lady, my honorable sister,” said he, “has an august mission for you to perform, but one fraught with exceeding great danger, and of a delicate and diplomatic nature withal.”

The samurai bowed calmly, as though the fact of the danger were as indifferent a matter to him as the mission itself.

“In fact, she wishes you to carry word to Choshui of the postponement of Prince Keiki’s execution. I need not point out to you the dangers of such a mission. The Mori will insist upon your revealing the place of imprisonment of their prince, and upon your refusing to do so will take drastic measures to compel you. These perils, however, will be to your liking, I am sure.”

“To my liking, that is so,” said Genji, “but—”

“What?” interrupted the Lady Evening Glory. “You hesitate! You do not set off at once!”

“I do not hesitate, my lady,” replied the samurai, bowing respectfully. “I refuse. I do not set off at once because I am not going.”

The Lady Evening Glory could scarcely believe her ears. Never in her memory had a samurai refused to do the bidding of his lord or lady. That Genji, of all samurai, should do so, astounded her. Nevertheless she brought herself to listen to his amazing words.

“My lady, long before I entered the service of my Lord of Catzu I was a ronin, an independent samurai who owed allegiance to no lord or prince. I was induced to enter your service not for love of your lord or desire to ingratiate myself with the Shogun powers, for, though a deserter for personal reasons, I was of the clan of Choshui, and an Imperialist at heart!”

“Such insolence,” said the lady, furiously, “shall be punished with thy insignificant head.”

“Tsh!” interposed her brother, angrily. “Permit our good friend to speak. I have a liking and understanding for his words.”

“As I have said,” repeated Genji, “it was neither for love of thy lord nor his cause that I entered his service, but because I desired to be near to, and to serve with my life, if necessary, the orphaned daughter of my old friend and comrade, the Lady Wistaria.”

“It is well,” said the Lady Evening Glory, sharply, “that you did not acquaint my Lord Catzu with all this. If my memory serves me correctly, you came to Catzu with great protestations and promises of allegiance and loyalty to his lordship.”

“And,” said Genji, “during the time that I have served the Lord Catzu, there has been no samurai whose allegiance has been more unswerving than mine.”

“And yet,” said the lady, scornfully, “at the first test the allegiance you boast of is found wanting.”

“I respectfully beg to call your attention, my lady, to the error and injustice you commit in making such a remark. In following my inclination at this present time I expect to be discharged by his lordship, or I shall submit my resignation to him. Under the circumstances, I am once more a free samurai, and, being out of service, I am at perfect liberty to serve whom I please. Nevertheless I shall take delight in obeying any commands you may be pleased to bestow when I am at liberty to do so. At present I am not at liberty.”

“May I inquire,” she asked, with her cold eyes disdainfully fixed above his head, “why you condescended to accompany me?”

“Certainly. I had a fancy that you were about to set off for the place where the Lady Wistaria might be residing. Consequently I besought you to permit me to attend you. What is more, I had reason to believe that the Lady Wistaria would be in need of me. Hence, here I am, and here I remain, the gods permitting.”

“If you suppose, Sir Genji, that by pretending zeal in behalf of my honorable niece you can excuse your conduct towards those in whose service you rightfully belong, you will soon discover your error, I assure you.”

“There I disagree with you,” interrupted Shimadzu, suddenly. “It is my opinion that my old friend’s loyal zeal for the insignificant Lady Wistaria excuses him from any seeming lapses in his service to his lord, and in this I believe the Lord of Catzu will agree with me. Therefore, sister, let us call a truce to this harsh and useless exchange of bitter words. Instead, let us beg that Sir Genji will condescend to accept our gratitude for his loyalty to one who, though insignificant, is yet of our family.”

Again the two samurai bowed deeply to each other. The Lady of Catzu shrugged angry shoulders.

“What is to be done?” she inquired, after a moment.

“Despatch the samurai Matsue at once with the paper,” said her brother. “Meanwhile”—he turned to Genji—“deign to permit me to lead you to my Lady Wistaria.”