suke. The latter handed in two _chu[u]gen_ tickets to the
_momban_, and none knew that the honoured _yo[u]nin_ had left the
_yashiki_. In merry company they descended the Gomizaka. Shintaro[u] was
as a boy just out of school, so merry was he. He lagged behind, then
went ahead. At the top of the Kudanzaka he halted. "On with you, Jisuke.
Shintaro[u] stops here a moment." He passed to the side of the road.
Jisuke in turn halted. He was standing in the moonlight. Said he, with a
touch of his usual insolent jesting--"How explain to the ladies the
presence of the honoured chamberlain? Shintaro[u] _yaro[u]_ wears two
swords. Jisuke Dono is but a _chu[u]gen_. Odd company! Notable will be
the compliment."--"No explanation is required." Terrible the voice from
the shadow beside him. "Ei!" Quick as a flash Jisuke made a spring
forward, not too soon to prevent arm and back being ripped open by the
keen weapon.--"Ah! The low fellow Shintaro[u] is not the one to kill the
honoured Jisuke. He has already said it.... The beast! He has cut me.
The devil lies between Jisuke and the lights of the O[u]mon. With
Cho[u]bei San is found safety and vengeance." With all speed he fled up
the Ushinakizaka to seek safety in the darkness of its wood. Nishioka
pursued with determination. The rip of cloth and flesh showed him that
he had reached his man. Loss of blood would bring him down. Jisuke aimed
for the middle of the grove, for the Hachiman shrine, now the site of
the Sho[u]konsha. Under the dark shadow of the trees he hoped to escape
the pursuer. Alas! A tree root caught his foot and threw him on his
face. As he rose the sword ran him through from back to breast.
Staggering, grasping at air, he turned on Nishioka; spitting out his
grudge with the clots of blood. His last words of hate were mingled with
the rumblings of the storm close over head. The moon's brightness had
disappeared. Heavy clouds rolled up, illuminated time and again by a
glare of dismal light. Big gouts of rain began to wet the clothes of
living and of dead in this solitude. For surety Nishioka gave the final
thrust through the throat. Just then the bell of Ichigaya Gekkeiji
reverberated through the thick wood. In the night hour it sounded sharp
and sudden, like a harsh call to men to rise and witness. Nishioka wiped
his sword on the dead man's dress. A flash of lightning lit the face,
horrible and mocking in the death agony. As the chamberlain leaned over
the corpse a voice s