Seven days had elapsed, and in that time Ishida proved himself not only a master of ceremonies but a diplomat to be reckoned with thereafter; both Hideyoshi and Yodogima, presumably from different standpoints, recognized the service, and though absent, Ieyasu no doubt had ample occasion to surmise the rapid rising of an influence hitherto not at all suspected. The days, however, passed quietly, and presently the door to the taiko's chamber slid back gently and unobserved. Hideyoshi sat with his elbows resting upon his knees and his face buried in his hands; restraint had proven burdensome, though Ishida, his old body-servant's counsel had strangely come to wield over him an influence little short of Yodogima's itself. Between the two, Yodogima's wish and Ishida's advice, the taiko seemed at last utterly lost. "You are kind, Hideyoshi, to respect my denial: pray do not think me inconsiderate; I have news for you; it is a son." CHAPTER XIX The taiko bounded up. That voice had filled him as a chorus resounding tidings all but heard in vain. No footstep had broken his reverie; the sight of her seemed as impossible as the halo involving his desire; the air he breathed had lost its fragrance, the taste congealed, and the touch deadened, but another sense had called him to life; Yodogima confronted him. There she stood, within reach, sublimer, if could be, than before. Words had vainly made her message better understood: not a moment would he lose, yet-- "Oh, God, who am I to stand here like dumb? How is it, these limbs fail me now, oh, so bitterly? What devil stands between us? Or, is it lack of devil, and Kami that denies? Answer me, you who can!" Hideyoshi fell to the floor whence he had risen. The golden bowl was not broken, for the want of one. Charm had not entered, hence could not depart. No affinity proffered its good office. Love held forth elsewhere in the mighty circle, and these two searched their way under a solstice as blank as inevitable. Yodogima, too, sank down, disappointed and fearful, upon the mat in front of her lawful lord. The child lay coddling in its lap, and her eyes beheld therein a joy that radiates only as ordained. The picture overcame him. He could not face the truth of her position, and her eyes riveting upon the sacred book unfolding before them denied him the only lie that man ever made in virtuous part. All the laws of heaven or man, cause and effect, could stay the hand nor deaden the heart to that loftier reach, that unquenchable thirst, that touchless affinity, which made man what he is, as compared with the pitiful sight we sometimes see, only to wish it an unreality, that hairy monster, perched upon his hinder part, his arms drooping in front and his face a blank, that living, suggestive, appealing, undriveable thing we are always wont but mostly loath to call baboon.