Takara did not give much thought to her imprisonment or the disposition that might be made of her; she felt too tired for that, and had no sooner been left alone than she fell fast asleep. It was quite different though with Bansuro her keeper. He rested hardly any, and could think of nothing but the reward surely to be had for bringing to the high court a spy of so great consequence; for had he not, he reasoned, captured her while in the very act of conversing with the condemned? And would not Ikamon rejoice? Bansuro had not seen Hontone, Takara's head carrier and only protector, as he shadowed and watched them like a sleuth. Not satisfied with his mistress' having gone into the woods alone, he followed and watched from a distance her every movement, and when caged alone in the room at the tea house he felt her safe for the night. Hontone then ran away and brought his fellows, and in the dark and without discovery they planned her rescue. They lay in the bushes growing about the old, neglected temple, with its crumbling beams and weather-cracked siding, and were within easy reach of the cosey place where Takara slept a prisoner. Now and then Hontone would steal near and listen, then return with the assurance that she yet rested safely. Presently, as the night darkened, the air grew murky and difficult of breathing. It had been intensely sultry all day, but now there came from everywhere hollow soundings, and a hushed silence spread over the earth. The carriers crouched down and stared blankly; not one of them ventured to speak. The suspense was dreadful and Hontone whispered: "It is an earthquake!"