With a growl of fear No-Kami sped away, his fingers in his ears, back toward the light--and the saucy geisha, seeing a crouching shadow pass, complained of some unclean animal. With stealthy speed, born of terror and shame, the Daimio crept away, nor stopped to draw breath till, safe in the sanctuary of his chamber, he fell panting, prostrate on the mat. Another instant, and, unconscious of what he did, he would have swung on the fateful tree. Strange that it should have been the warning voice of Koshiu that had averted supreme disgrace. Why? Was he reserved for something yet more infamous? Better now, at once, to make an end of it--perish as a Daimio should when driven to bay by his own well-tempered steel. Groping with aspen hands for the sword-rack, he took his dirk, and unsheathing it, passed a finger on its edge. A blade of Sanjo's, a masterpiece. Yes. Here in the dark, alone, he would perform the rites of harakiri, and join with unsmirched brow the line of haughty ancestors. Footsteps, a yellow glimmer through the paper of the sliding doors. O'Kikú's tardy feet? No, the heavier footfall of a man. A panel was pushed aside. Sampei, shading with his hand the flickering flame of a candle. The latter peered in, and uttered a cry. The dirk, the body bared, the kneeling posture. The intention of the Daimio was evident, though rising with a fierce curse he strove to conceal his purpose. "I am glad I was in time," Sampei remarked, with cold composure. "Would the chief of our clan commit harakiri without a second? Where is he? I see no kaishaku. Pah! When all is lost 'tis time to think of dying. If you wish it, and have courage, things are not yet past remedy." "What do you want?" snarled the Daimio, as with a scowl he retreated into a corner. "My lord of Nara has arrived, and is now closeted with his daughter. Though you seem to have abdicated your dignities, it is right that you should be informed of it. "Sent for by her?" inquired No-Kami. "No!" replied Sampei bitterly. "With all your arrogant parade, she is more proud than you, and would never stoop to complain of your many cruelties." "Sent for more like by _him!_--snake in the grass!" gibed a voice behind, and the two brothers, turning, beheld the geisha, a frown puckering her brow, a red spot of annoyance on either cheek bone. "Yes, snake in the grass!" repeated she, lashed to imprudence by resentment. "He does well to play the part of the lady O'Tei's interpreter--he who knows her so much better than others!" Sampei was silent, while the suspicious gaze of the Daimio was turned to his brother from the concubine. "O fool!" she laughed. "To be fooled by women is the lot of the haughtiest among ye! I vow I pity such blindness. Know that the crust of a proud woman's nature often conceals a furnace. The lady O'Tei has kindled a fire on the altar of her heart in honour--well, not of you!"