Hist! what was that, another batch of waterfowl? No; a cry as of frighted animals. A commotion--a rush--a panic. Robbers! a gang--a multitude. Stabbed in the back, the two bettos dropped without a struggle. For an instant the attendants strove to free themselves from cumbrous grass-coats, to disengage their swords from oiled paper coverings, in vain; for it must be at least a dozen nimble blades, wielded by unseen hands, that were swirling through the air with such deadly purpose. Who could have foreseen that on this quiet track assassins were in ambush? With a howl and a cry of treachery the cohort of poltroons abandoned the litter, which fell heavily on its side, and fled over the quicksand, where they buffeted, to lie engulfed. The man, for there was but one--or was it not the god of thunder?--dashed at the fallen kago, tore back with one hand its half-closed curtains, from whose folds there emerged a woman. A sway of two tussling figures, as the clouds swept over the moon, and the snow fell thickly. A tossing of white arms and clutching fingers clasped in a grip of death. A gurgle, a long wild shriek--so terrible a cry of anguish, as a soul was forcibly rent from out its tenement, that boors within their huts crept close together and prayed for protection against goblins. Even the austere figure of the avenger remained for a second spellbound, as, standing erect to wipe his dirk, his ear followed that last piteous wail of agony that faded in the music of the stream. His task was successfully accomplished: to the gods all gratitude. He peered anxiously around, while he bound up something in a purple kerchief, then, drawing the pick from his katana's sheath, thrust it through the silk for easier carrying. He was alone with slumbering nature, and with it. The relay had fled to give alarm. There was nought to be seen of the others save distant circles on the watery quagmire, with here and there a hand whose groping soon was stilled. At his feet lay the two dead bettos and a heap of sumptuous furs, from out of which there trickled a thick stream that meandered slow over the stones. Looking upward at the moon, which now unveiled again, the man, smiling softly, pressed to his lips the dirk. "Old friend," he murmured, "beloved of my father, thou hast saved his honour and ours, an evil life the ransom. With speed to my mother now, that she may know the atonement is complete." He sought for a moment leisurely among the reeds, and seeing the scabbard gleam, replaced it with the dirk within his belt. Then swinging his burthen in his hand, he strode quickly away towards the temple.