Without taking her eyes from her son's, the Abbess rose, and like one in a trance led him behind the altar, down the open corridor, into her own quiet chamber. Nothing could be more simple than its furnishing. The woodwork was unadorned, but scrupulously clean, so were the mats and screens. A plain fire-box of iron stood in the centre. Above the low dais in the tokonoma, or place of honour, there hung a single and very ancient kakemono, representing Kwannon, the thousand-handed; and under it, upon the dais, stood in a lacquered sword-rack, a dirk in its silken case. Floating before Sampei she lifted the weapon, pressed it to her bosom, then slowly unfastening the case, drew forth the dirk, which, with a cry, he recognised. It was a precious blade, forged by Miochin himself, adorned with a hilt minutely worked with gold--a dirk which in childhood he had been wont to play with. "My father's!" he murmured, and pressed it to his lips and forehead. "Your father's!" echoed the Abbess, in a whisper, drawing herself to the full height of her commanding stature, and placing on the bent head of her son a trembling hand. "Your father, and _his_, wore yonder blade in many a fray, and it was never sullied with dishonour. To you, my dear son, do I surrender it. The gods have spoken. She must die!" As pale as his mother, who looked on him now with a rapt and solemn smile, Sampei heaved a sigh of relief. _She_. His nerves tingled to his finger ends, for he had thought that the deed must be done which had so often crossed his mind, and which he had always put away from him with dread. It was not his brother--thanks to the gods for that--but the wicked concubine, whose blood was required in atonement. Then the two sat down, and the inspired priestess spoke. "The honour of the family was to be saved by him--Sampei. Buddha himself had deigned to settle it. He must bide his time, and wait and watch, and when occasion offered he must, with his father's dirk, slay the baleful sorceress. With his own hand must the deed be done--not be trusted to a hireling, even to a samurai. It might be some time before the fitting opportunity presented itself, for the braves, whom she still debauched, would defend her doubtless with their lives. There must not be too long delay, lest my lord No-Kami should come home. The avenging hand must be sure and steady; the result not a mere wound, but--death." Nodding, Sampei placed the weapon in his obi, and, embracing his mother, departed with proud step. It was to be his privilege--by Buddha's own decree--to save the honour of the house,--to rescue his infatuated brother,--to bestow upon the dear O'Tei a measure of future happiness. Masago, calm now, returned to the temple, and spent the night in vigil. Blessed be Buddha; for his mercy thrice-blessed! He had spoken through the silent lips. The course and conscience of his handmaid were clear as crystal now. CHAPTER XVI.