No-Kami glanced round at him with a slow, proud smile, in which there was more of human softness than his features had ever worn. Then, stabbing himself below the waist on the left side, he drew the dirk with firm and unswerving hand across, and, twisting it in the wound, gave it a slight turn upwards. The eager eyes of his brother sparkled. A flash in the air; a heavy thud; a crash. No-Kami was gone; his sin-stained soul had flown. His blood welled out over the floor from his headless trunk. Sampei reeled, sick and giddy. Strange that the crisp air of a winter night should be so oppressive! What sinister new noise was that? A low, rumbling sound, like a great tremulous sigh--a heaving as though the panting soil were labouring for breath. For an instant of awful silence the human storm was stilled, then in a combined shriek rose heavenward. With swimming eyes Sampei gazed forth, clinging to the casement for support. A boom, a roar, a rush of boiling waters. A sweeping blast, a whirlwind--like a conflict of spirits for a soul. With a groan as of a giant in pain, the hillside opposite yawned. He beheld the wood of ancient cryptomerias, from childhood so familiar, slowly descend, leaving in its place a scar. He saw it slide down with majestic movement into the plain, turning from its bed the river. As though propelled by hurricane force, trees and rocks fell thundering, piled in heaps upon the flat, while through opening gaps and fissures new-born streams gushed out. Another shock, a long shuddering spasm, a wail of strong men for mercy. Then with deafening din the central tower rocked and swayed and split from top to bottom. The huge timbers cracked like wands, and parted. The ponderous copper roofs and sculptured eaves were torn and rent, and, toppling upon the crouching multitude, rolled over into the abyss. Forked tongues of flame shot up with a wild whirl of sparks, and died; and then from a common grave there curled a dense column of black smoke. Of all who were within the walls of Tsu not one escaped. At the gods' behest, nature had arisen in her strength. When the hail of destruction ceased, nothing remained of the impregnable fortress but a heap of shapeless ruin. The pride of Hojo was abased; its cherished home was become a charnel-house; its stronghold a sepulchre; a wreck its monument. * * * * * Thus was the prophecy fulfilled,--the death-cry of the martyr answered. Buddha was awake, the while he seemed to sleep. By grim decree of outraged Heaven the race of tyrants was extinguished, leaving no rack behind save a loathed and dishonoured name. THE END. * * * * * COLSTON AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.