He had been given a life full of brilliant opportunities and had cast them all away. His name was a byword in the land. There was not one living thing that loved him, while thousands clamoured for his death. The chill of a desolation, novel and surprising, crept over his heart, as, glancing around the bower, small objects recalled the past. Why had they tied him to O'Tei? With one more congenial the asperities of his character might have softened. O'Tei, the soft and clinging, had never loved him; no--never--not for a single moment. Something whispered now that, had he been more kind, she might have come to like him. Then, as if stung by an adder, he sprang upon his feet, with beads of perspiration on his forehead. Fool! what spell was this?--what disgraceful, infatuated weakness? Had he been more kind! _Had she not loved his brother?_ The poison instilled by the geisha, dormant through the rapid passage of stirring events, throbbed through his veins, and he gasped and grew faint under the pain of it. Both false--his wife and brother. _She_ was dead; no wonder _he_ looked so glum! Perturbed though his own mind was, No-Kami could not but notice the change which had come over the face of Sampei. The sharp iron share of an ineffable sorrow had passed over his features, ploughing deep lines of grief. On second thoughts, it was well that she was dead. She had sinned, and was justly punished. Thus far was his honour satisfied. The murderess must suffer also. By-and-by, when there should be breathing time. And the paramour as well. With staggering steps the Daimio roamed like a caged animal about the chamber, revolving direful designs. Then suddenly stopping, he laughed aloud and clapped his palms together. By-and-by, in the future! Was there any future except a yawning, bottomless gulf down which he and his were sliding? Honour, forsooth! He and his had as little to do with honour as with a future, or with life. From far away across the sunlit waters a voice whispered mockingly, "Accursed and doomed! betrayed and friendless! Oh, desolate, solitary soul, the gods have set their brand on thee! In worlds to come an outcast!" Trembling, the Daimio peered around. Some one had spoken. Who? No one in the corridor without. No one beneath the window. That unearthly jibing merriment! Two bloodshot eyes glaring from the cloudless sky. Cursed and doomed! Predestined to endless travail! Moaning, the Daimio cowered down and rocked himself in terror. It was soon understood that, my lord being unhinged, and grievously sick in body and mind, Sampei would assume command. So long as the gods willed it, there should be defence, the General had determined, and to that end he moved hither and thither with forced calm, arranging details by the light of a shrewd experience; steady as some strong machine that does its work unconsciously.