Hitherto Hideyoshi had been held as interested only in the affairs of men, wholly absorbed with the making and unmaking of fortune or fortunes so distant and neglectful of any influence that women might bring to bear that none had essayed to do more than serve and chatter for centuries; but now, that he had so overstepped the bounds of conventional warfare as to indulge effeminate pastimes and cringe in the presence of a princess, he himself might be excused and she most surely condemned. Ieyasu, even, who knew in his own heart, looked upon Yodogima's heroic stand as more the result of sustained loyalty than innate purity. "And that loyalty will preserve her, as self-denial is to be the making of me," muttered he, to himself, as the preparations for his submissive removal progressed: that, from a rich and populous estate, where men had learned to love and respect him from childhood, would sacrifice their lives and their energies to defend him, to a new, and a strange, and an isolated keep, where disorder, dissatisfaction, and crude and crumbling walls abounded: that, too, with only a bodyguard, his Saji, and the vain, if not unscrupulous, Esyo to accompany him. And as the little straggling band marched away, harboring its jealousies, it may be revenge, certainly its ambitions, Yodogima turned from them in compassion--her heart seemed breaking, but duty rallied to the call of pride, and she forgave him, perchance tried to forget. Esyo could not be so easily dismissed; her parting words had lingered, now roused in Yodogima to the full some comprehension of what her father meant in turning her out threateningly in the company of two seemingly lovable and harmless sisters. His guidance and protection had been a world to her now, that she had, as she alone believed, reaped the fullest measure of bitterness, wherein God has endowed that man shall covet. Charms had been easily flung at them, Esyo's hinted admonition seized upon with avidity, and the body sacrificed upon the altar of rapacity, but the spirit rebelled and held her fast in its higher reach. "Perhaps, Yodogima, the bushido might afford you, as it did our father, some really honorable means." Those words welled up and rimmed over in Yodogima's heart, as molten lava heaves and lips and inflows at the crater's edge. Esyo, a sister, had denounced her, but something within, a promise somewhere, sustained her, roused her to a deeper, broader sense of duty than she could conjure forth of self-effacement. Then Jokoin came, and only her presence had made it seem once more as if earth truly held some fair portion, but her counsel, too, seemed empty, even blasphemous. "Christ is our redeemer; He died to save us; I am confessed; hallelujah!" shouted Jokoin, happy and careless, if unmindful. "Sister! You shock me. Have you forgotten our father?"