Even to the shogun's supporters, the destruction of the apparently harmless Michizane, and the advent of the scarcely known child, Iyeyoshi, seemed so veiled in mystery that many were inclined to believe that some deep-laid scheme lay behind a rather elusive but possible trick. In consequence, the shogun, in his weakness, anxious to hide his stupidity behind some apparent justification, took the burden upon his own shoulders and thus widened the breach between himself and his true friends, increasing to that extent his dependence upon Ikamon. The discontent due to the adoption of an heir to the shogunate became after a time, however, somewhat allayed; but the curiosity aroused by the banishment of Michizane increased, and the feeling of unrest at the mikado's seat grew to such degree that before a year had passed the south began to assume a resentful if not hostile attitude. Nearly five years had elapsed since their favourite daughter, Takara, had been carried away to become the wife of Shibusawa, the most promising of the young princes under the shogunate. No results had as yet obtained from this alliance, nor had the restoration of the kuge[12] taken place as promised. They were dissatisfied, and Takara's misalliance was the first pretext seized upon to rouse a determined move. Spies had been sent to Tokyo and the whole truth discovered to a few of the leaders, yet from policy's sake these reports had been suppressed in the hope of perfecting a more judicious organisation before the advent of a general uprising. This conservatism on the part of the southern leaders baffled Ikamon, who believed them, like himself, incapable of looking beyond self-interest for a motive. Others might sacrifice and strive for humanity, but the sweet-voiced god Oshaka ever whispered in Ikamon's ear the one word, "Self." It was self that lay at the bottom; self that raised the human above the brute; self that promised life eternal: the gods were but self, asserted and ordained, and ordinary man was only the blind, the halt, the sympathetic. Diplomacy was his weapon, heroism an humbler man's part. Tetsutaisho was now too much absorbed with personal affairs even to try to grasp the outer shreds of a complicated political situation. True, he had realised in some measure from time to time that an ugly gossip circulated on the outside as to affairs at his house; yet he was slow to appreciate its importance, and but for being urged from other sources would have given it barely passing notice. He busied himself more with shifting his attentions from a worn love to one that was new though elusive, and as yet unfound.