To the superstitious Japanese the bronze temple bell is a living entity. It breathes with their breath, joys with their joy, grieves with their sorrow. As wood and brook are peopled, so are the temple and groves; and the great bronze bell is the voice of the myriad spirits, messengers of Buddha's will. How exasperatingly pestilent, therefore, was it now of Masago to give to the festivity a mournful turn of warning by slowly beating the bell as if for some popular calamity. A shudder passed over the crowd. Hark' What was that? The soughing of the wind? The twee-twee of the shrill cicada? No. A faint and distant chant, growing each moment louder; and, as he heard, the face of my lord grew purple and his brow black with rage, which he was vainly seeking to control. He, like the others, guessed the purport of the music, and his fingers mechanically sought his sword-hilt. That abominable Abbess, not to be daunted by recent contumely, was again coming to the castle with all her bonzes and her maidens to demand at least the lifeless bodies of those who were about to die. Nothing could be more inopportune,--better calculated to mar the pageant; for of what use were sweetmeats and fruit and the best tea as concomitants to a grim enjoyment made fascinating by wholesome terror, if the occasion were suddenly to be turned into one of open mourning? What was to be done? If 'twas but a bevy of priests, a few deft taps in tender places with the bamboo would send them squealing; but the voices were those of women, and even a tyrannical daimio will not gain in dignity by the scourging of a posse of girls. For an instant he breathed a deep curse upon all women--universal marplots; but, catching the glance of the stranger, he recanted. Even she found it difficult to combat her emotion. Her cheek had blanched, her lovely bosom heaved under the crape kimono; but being a damsel of strong will, gifted with a power of seeing ahead, she forced an arch flash from her eye, for the comfort of her new adorer. By a swift signal she bade him know that her sympathy was with him still. By instinct born of new affection, he seemed to read her thoughts. Abbesses are cross-grained, churlish hags, she seemed to say,--disappointed because youth has fled. Yet, in her heart, she could not but be aware that things were going badly, and that the effect produced by that gruesome festivity was far from the one intended. Well, so much the better, for her sympathy was rendered thereby more precious. Instead of accepting their harsh lesson with humble and meek duty, the fractious mob of artizans and mean persons, who should have been awed by mere admission within the castle, were presuming, with sighs and lamentations, openly to side with the convicted! With sobs and streaming cheeks the spectators leaned over the barriers, and, with low murmurs of "Cruel!" and "Pitiless!" threw their sweetmeats to the little ones.