No-Kami looked down into the deep dark well of her eyes, from which he could see peeping his own pleased reflection. Why, what a treasure was this--a wise little counsellor! More than ever was he disgusted with the absent chatelaine, who could only implore, and writhe, and groan, and grovel on the ground in intervals of stony glaring. Practical, and shrewd, and plump, and purring was this fairy by his side. She should have her boon, and welcome, with many thanks for the suggestion. The Daimio having been pleased to announce that, yielding to the intercession of his charming guest, Masago might be permitted to remove the corpses, he crossed the inner moat, followed by his brilliant train, while the grim samurai laughed behind their vizards, wondering how the ladies would agree. CHAPTER X. FOREBODINGS. It was with feelings strangely mingled that the concourse prepared to depart. For their good, the farmer had suffered martyrdom; himself and his family were swept like insects from the earth, but not from the grateful memories of the people. No sooner was the inner drawbridge raised behind the departing despot, than with one accord all meekly knelt while the Abbess issued orders. Her brow was more sombre than its wont, her jaw more firmly set, as the troubled elders related what had happened. She had prayed for light, but Buddha had vouchsafed no answer. What was this coil that was winding slowly but surely round the son of him who had been her husband? Ay, round her own son as well, the noble Sampei. It was under misapprehension that Koshiu had included him in his anathema, supposing him the seducer of his child; yet here was the child, clad now in the crape of a nun, as pure as she had ever been. The farmer was in error, and surely idle curses recoil on those who launch them. Sampei, the brave and generous, was without reproach. Even sleepy Buddha must know that. Perchance he was at this moment rating Koshiu, on the further bank of the mystic Sandzu, for his precipitate injustice. Masago strove to persuade herself that it must be so, whilst striving to console the terror-stricken Miné, and yet at the bottom of her heart there was apprehension, a dull weight of cold foreboding.