He had hung there only a few minutes--it seemed to him an age--before his feet shrivelled and blackened, while the fire crackled and sizzled around them. As his contorted body dangled in the air, his face upturned, he momentarily saw, peering through a glass-covered peephole, his trusted son-in-law, Ikamon; then a smile crossed his face and he lost all consciousness. While Maido was being pushed into the cellar of torture, Ikamon had seated himself in the judge's cubby-hole, which adjoined the chamber of testimony, permitting a close watch of the victim and a taking of the confession, if such were made, without suffering the annoyance of the fiery fumes within. He looked only once, and fate revealed the sickly smile, whereat he quickly drew the curtain, and turning, shouted: "Jigokumon; Jigokumon; relieve the victim; the confession is made!" Suddenly the fires were extinguished, and Maido, more dead than alive, was restored to the damp cell from which he had been taken. He did not recover consciousness for a long time, but when he had done so he suffered such intense pain that he begged the dumb walls for death. He had, however, long to wait, for he had been left there to suffer all but that. Ikamon, though, gauged well the time, and before too late pronounced the sentence: Maido, together with all the rest, was led forth into the wilderness of Musashijamoku, where they were scattered about and permitted, one after another, the right of harakiri. There overhung the marsh land a mist, and the murky wet clung to the smooth, round bamboos, echoing a grave-like sound as each pronounced the parting word. All excepting Maido had gone, and it now came his turn. He sat there in the cold wet with his snarled and decaying limbs crossed under him. His face was upturned and in his right hand he held the sharpened steel. He had thanked his accusers for respecting his right to die as became his rank, and now thought only of his own, his son. Out of the gloom of the swamp there arose the sound of the executioner's voice; it said only: "Maido." The blow was struck, and his head dropped forward. Then there came from the still forest a silent, anxious step, and trembling voice, saying: "It is too late! He is gone!" She bent over him and whispered: "It is I." He raised his face to hers and answered: "Takara!" Then she cried: "It was not I! Oh, honourable father, it was not I that did it!" Maido said: "I understand. It was he who stole it. You are my deliverer. You have brought me news." "And he knows not your fate, but is not deceived. He lives and I am still his wife. Shibusawa will vindicate his father's name. I swear it!" Takara straightened up and the fire flashed from her eyes, as her words pierced the dull air around her. "It is well."