As he approached the familiar gate where he had so often passed he observed that new locks hung from the latches; that the old guard had gone; that a haughty, "Who goes there?" greeted his ears, and suddenly it appeared to him that a great change had taken place. He realised for the first time that he was no longer in the land which he had left only a few years before; that here, too, the seed of progress had been sown, and that already new sprouts were bursting forth. He marvelled at the new order, and a fresh desire came upon him. Suddenly he turned upon the trusty, and in answer said convincingly: "A friend." He knew it was of no use to deny his purpose or make any extended explanation; neither was he willing nor the guard desirous that he should. Under the circumstances just one thing would gain his admittance; none in that land knew better than Shibusawa, the newly returned, just what results could be obtained by the judicious use of money. So, when the pompous keeper jerked his steel from the hip and held it abreast his chin, with firm footing and erect body, Shibusawa did not weaken in the least, but boldly approached and unconcernedly dropped a coin in the fellow's convenient hand. "All's well!" shouted the subdued guard, as he turned his back and lowered his arms, the while Shibusawa raised the latch and entered at one side the ponderous gate. He did not hesitate nor give the matter further thought, but hurried on toward the place which to him bore the most pleasant memory of his life. Each pebble seemed a guide post, and every step an inspiration. He tramped on without either stopping or lagging until the hill had been scaled, and then there came over him grave feelings of doubt and of dread. The pathway was no longer clear. The entrance was a tangled thicket of brier and weeds. He made further progress with difficulty, and when he had reached the mouldy place no friendly sight greeted his eyes. Years of abandonment had obliterated everything except her memory. He paused and looked around, then shuddered, and stumbled toward that side where once the stone steps had marked the entrance. They were still bare, though unused; no trash had gathered there. They were yet as undefiled as they were on the day he had found Kinsan lying upon them. He sat down and searched among the stars for an answer to his heart's yearnings. Long he studied as to what had been her fate. Each new thought stirred him to greater determination, every discouragement moved him to plan afresh. He must find her; yet he sat with his face buried in his hands; despair overshadowed him. Then he thought of the old hiding-place, where in days gone by they were wont to secrete such messages as were sacred to them alone. He arose and climbed up to the entrance as if it were but yesterday that he had been there.