"We do invest you King of Japan--" "What? Crown me of less than I possess? No!" shouted he, snatching up the document, casting off that robe, and throwing down the crown. The rage of Hideyoshi only increased with each attempted explanation; the real perpetrators stood mute in the background, the one bent upon Hideyori's destruction, the other confident of a mother's triumph. The acknowledged son and, now, only possible successor destroyed, Ishida believed it easy to lay his hand securely upon the reins of government: trusting his judgment, the taiko could be wrought into no more favorable mood than the one at present so forcibly expressed. Ieyasu, on the other hand, faltered; he adjudged Yodogima capable, but Hideyoshi fighting mad and in a corner had only too often proven it the death knell to any one, hated or loved, who had as yet invoked the temerity to confront him. The plan in truth of his own making, and its working in perfect accord to this the culminating point, convinced him the more that someone had found him out and now fared ready to reap the reward of his iniquity. Ieyasu stood paralyzed--yet no one seemed to suffer a moment's loss or to heed at all any sort of plight in consequence of his failure. Ieyasu, as if dumb, Ishida exulted the more: Oyea came forth as understood, and bowing down laid the child at Hideyoshi's feet--the taiko gasped; speech had failed. Oyea, also, had insulted him; dared to flaunt in his face what he knew that she knew was not his: the taiko was angered. Ieyasu withdrew, as quietly as he had remained, and no one would have been the wiser had not Yodogima--hidden away so disguised that even he had failed her--observed his every movement: when he had gone, then Harunaga shadowed his further progress and-- Doffing the veil, Yodogima quickly, yet softly, and considerately, approached, unwrapping and laying before his highness another child, not unlike the first in face and form. Hideyoshi looked up, a changed man; in a mother's presence there had dawned a new understanding. Ishida rushed forward, and Oyea drew back: a common wrangle ensued, and no one appeared to know just what to say or think or do. Some contended that one or the other of the two children belonged to Oyea, for had she not brought it there, and proffered hers for recognition? But which one? Why her silence? Others claimed that only a mother could know her child; whereat the taiko frowned and Ishida smiled. "Which one, Ishida; this is an important business, and there should be no mistake?" Yodogima had claimed them both, now, in the absence of Oyea, who stood back, trembling and cogitating. No thought disturbed the mother, whose only care centered in the child; to deprive her of hers, she alone must make the selection: Hideyoshi had never knowingly committed an avoidable wrong. Ishida blushed; the truth had at last dawned also upon him, and turning to Yodogima the closely cornered man mumbled: "Which is he, Yodogima?"