“Are many coming, my lady?” asked Katsuno, her heart beating high with the hope that at last she might meet her enemy.
“About a hundred, I believe, to take part in the competition, and of course, all the samurai of our clan with their families will be present to look on.”
“Who are the archers?”
“Why do you ask?”
Katsuno was embarrassed for a moment, but quickly regaining her presence of mind, she replied:—
“For no special reason, my lady; but my father, though only a farmer, was very fond of archery, and so, from a child, I have been interested in the sport.”
“Ah, I see. Well, they brought me a programme of the day’s events this morning; here it is; you can see the names of the archers for yourself.” The lady handed Katsuno a sheet of soft, thick paper covered with bold, black characters. With an eagerness she strove to conceal, she ran her eyes down the lines, till near the middle of the page she found the name “Sakuma Shichiroyemon” At last! This was the time for which she had waited and planned.
“All the archers seem to be good samurai. What a splendid sight they will present! How I should like to see the sport, even from a distance.”
“There should be no difficulty about that. You have my permission.”
“My lady, I am deeply grateful.” She could say no more, but such was the state of her feelings that it was with difficulty she performed her usual duties that day, nor could she sleep at all at night.