As it gleamed I shut my eyes....
When I looked again, sick with the sickness of death itself, the figure in the yellow robe had raised both arms above its head. The sleeves had slipped away and the coils of muscle stood out upon the brown flesh.
Danjuro's lips were parted. He seemed to be speaking rapidly to something above him. His whole face was irradiated with joy, and the sword in his right hand shone like a tall flame.
He remained there for some little time. Then he lowered his arms, and taking a square of purple silk from his breast, he cleansed the sword, and I knew what he was going to do.
He placed the jewelled hilt upon the carpet and adjusted the point at his waist, steadying the blade with his left hand. Then, with a loud cry, as if of exaltation, he fell heavily forward....
He had gone to his own place in the way appointed to the Heroes of Old Japan.
THE END
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