long, until the
pebbles grow to boulders and the moss grows to your shoulders--"

Arisuga laughed, in frank joy of her.

"And suppose, you who are so powerful with the goddess of beauty--for
which I do not blame the goddess--suppose I have sworn to die the great
death, to release my father's soul from the Meido so that he can be born
again, and for the glory of the emperor?"

"Oh!" gasped the girl.

The soldier went on.

"--what will the other gods think of me, saving Benten, if I stop here
and forget to die because a woman has hands, a voice, and eyes?"

"No, no!" cried Isonna, in sudden strange anguish.

Then she prostrated herself in abjection.

Arisuga rose on his elbow to look at her.

"What have I said to cause such sorrow?" he wondered. "Let me see. It
was about your hands and voice and eyes."

"Yes!" cried mistress and maid together.

But it was the maid who went on:--

"And you must not, mighty lord. You must not find any beauty in my
mistress's eyes and hands and voice. None anywhere. It is evil for both
you and her!"

"Who said I found any beauty there?" smiled Arisuga, languidly.

"There is a secret, lord--" the maid went on in a frenzy.

But Star-Dream, suddenly grasping the place of her heart with both
hands, cried out to the maid, as if she were desperately wounded:--

"Go, go, go, little foul beast! What do you do here? Who called you?
Go!"

The maid disappeared like a spirit. Star-Dream found herself upon her
feet, still gasping with ecstasy and terror together. Then she at last
turned slowly toward the bed and smiled a sick mechanical smile.

"Lord, you said," she prompted. "Say on. Do not listen--do not observe
the ugly Isonna. She has a trouble of the head."

Hoshiko drooped her own in some sort of gentle guilt.

"Ah, but I displeased you also," said Arisuga.

"Lord--I--no. I have a distemper. In it I am harsh to Isonna. That is
what she is for. That is why my father keeps her. That she may bear my
distemper. Presently I will go and put my arms about her, so, and all
will be well!"

She illustrated with her own person.

"So?" asked the soldier, laughing; "certainly all will be well!" and she
came with another laugh and knelt at his bed. She touched him. She
chattered on helplessly.

"Truly, all will be well. She loves me, wicked as I am to her, and with
a touch I can win her!"

"Yes!" he agreed. "Or any one, I should fancy!"

Thus, at least, she had cunningly won him