"I knew something was up. Dad is cross as a bear, and Dodge struts like a turkey. Yuki, there is but one thing. Your husband must be told the moment he enters this house!" "Oh, if I could do that!" cried Yuki. "No such tearing thoughts could I have felt. But he has given orders to me not to disturb his mind on anything until this meeting has passed." "Nonsense, you must disobey of course," said the other; "unless I myself could get Pierre out of the garden." Her practical American wits worked rapidly. "I can do it I think. You must have smaller gates to these high walls." "Yes, yes, on all other days," said Yuki. "But not just for this one day. Everything--everything--for these few hours are bolted. I think it to be karma, Gwendolen. No use to fight for me!" "Now look here, don't go into despair so soon. You say you gave medicine. Is it a sleeping draught?" "Yes, first the strong fever-cure; then, half-hour later, a sleeping potion. It is strong. It would keep the Japanese asleep for many hours." "Go to your husband, Yuki. You must do it; never mind disobedience!" "But if some strange thing that you, not being Japanese, cannot foresee should hold me back, do you think there is other chance?" "Of course," said Gwendolen, "everything is in your favor. He will sleep until after the meeting, and then you can tell your husband. Only the risk--even a tiny risk--is so dreadful I shrink from having you take it." "Yesterday Hagané said to me, 'A wise man never leaves something to chance,'--only in such way does chance surely serve him." "You'll come through. Don't you fret, darling. The police would not dare search for him here. Ah, more statesmen!--this time in humble jinrikishas. The prime minister in a street kuruma! It is time for me to get mother away!" Ignoring the scandalized side-looks of Prince Korin, Gwendolen stooped to her friend, folded her very closely, and whispered a low torrent of words of love, of encouragement, and of confidence that she did not altogether feel. Fate hung dark banners on the false battlements of Yuki's official home. The great square shadow, creeping now toward the east, gathered dampness. Gwendolen shivered violently as she passed under the porte-cochére. "You needn't have been in such a nervous hurry, Gwendolen," said Mrs. Todd, with tart asperity. "Prince Korin and I were having a delightful chat." A beggar, unusual sight for Tokio, crept in through the wide gates toward the fine waiting carriage. The driver leaned over, menacing the intruder with a long whip. Gwendolen stopped him. A sudden impulse made her open and invert her pretty purse. A few silver coins fell into one gloved hand. She leaned down, pressed them on the wondering supplicant, and whispered in English, "You are a Japanese. You have a soul in that foul body. Pray for my Yuki!"