"No. I thought possibly the motherhood of this child might sometime be questioned by a higher power, and in that case my friend Tetsutaisho might have serious need for this Kinsan whom he has so lightly condemned," said Daikomitsu, in answer. "Then you know as much?" "I would rather that you should be the judge." "Very well; I shall place her in the stocks. It will answer my purpose quite as well and, now that I come to think, it may be a more befitting punishment--and, also, a convenience to you. You can better visit her in my back yard, Daikomitsu." "I may do so--to see that Tetsutaisho is as faithful in granting her that liberty as he has been punctual in making me the promise." "Tetsutaisho is a man of honour." "I believe it, else I should have sought another means." Tetsutaisho was not so much mystified at Daikomitsu's request as overawed with the apparent threat, for he knew the prime minister to be a favourite with the shogun and did not wish just yet to put to a test their respective strength before that tribunal; and could easily infer from his words a determination to go even so far. Nor did he court the idea of exposure, particularly at Kyoto; by this time knowing Takara to be quite as anxious as he, and feeling that he must shield her at any cost. Thus he had hastily concluded to delay Kinsan's destruction, and gratify the law's permit by meting out a meaner penalty. On the next day, therefore, the frail Kinsan with downcast eyes and haggard appearance was turned loose in the back grounds of her master's dwelling, there to carry, day and night, through rain or sunshine, the heavy stocks, clasped about her neck and weighted upon her tender shoulders. And there, taunted and alone, she bore her punishment without a murmur, and sinking exhausted at night always offered prayers for the one she loved, and for those whom she believed she had wronged and who had in charity granted her the privilege of even such an existence. Having already suffered in her own heart far more than death, now that the day's penalty had been imposed, she felt better able to bear her part; and was glad for life, though bitter it be, that she might atone for the wickedness with which she unknowingly held herself charged.