Sampei, riding to the Golden House, told his brother of the hubbub. As he heard, the brow of the despot darkened; his eyeballs became bloodshot, like those of the demon Razetsu, as in obstinate fume he gnashed his teeth. "What?" he cried. "Oh, girl in man's attire, I have borne too long with your puling! You dare to come hither, and take the part of the scum against me, your feudal lord! A shivering coward, who calls himself a soldier! Not a word more, or, despite the army at your back, I'll have you seized and scourged, and your head flung to the jackals." Hot words rose in Sampei's throat, but the mournful face of his pale love rose before him, and he choked them down. His brother was distraught with passion,--knew not what he said. His feudal lord! Yes, that much was true. If danger was brewing, his place was by the side of his brother, to save him, if might be, from the consequences of the wickedness instilled by demons; if not, to assist him in his death. The silence and sullen submission of the young General irritated the Daimio to frenzy. He cursed and growled like some savage animal, became the more furious from the conviction that in this matter he had been precipitate and wrong,--had been guilty of a mistake in state-craft,--of over-harshness. And yet it would never do to give to the scum the victory--to the low mechanics, and mean, unarmed artificers, who were assuming a threatening attitude. What would the other daimios say, who were eagerly watching the next move, if the ruler were again to give way,--to succumb like a woman before the outcry of a few rustics? The prestige of the Hojos would be gone for ever, and the bearer of the name would be sucked under and drowned by the torrent which would assuredly break loose. Give way! That, by the crown of Buddha, he swore he never would; and yet, perceiving too late the danger, in his heart he longed for a compromise. Hearing that Rokubei and Zembei, venerable elders, had dared to come pestering, and that a deputation of priests, headed by the bonzes of Tsu, awaited his pleasure, he smothered his rage, and bade Sampei admit them. He even deigned to summon his father's friend, and solicit counsel, placing the case before him. Concealing his exultation under an air of sympathy, Nara arrived with promptitude, and, true to his tactics, gave advice which was calculated to undo his enemy. "The peril is extreme," he said, "so I will speak plainly. 'Tis easier to raise a storm than quell it." "If you are here to talk platitudes, begone," interrupted No-Kami.