“Oh, yes; I know him well,” said she, without any hesitancy.

“And he is seeking you here? and now? I shall meet him forthwith.”

“Yes, he often does, and I am so glad—”

“Aha, and I am so nicely trapped!” said he, meditatively.

She did not answer him, for the reason that she did not understand him, and without so doing there was no occasion for an answer. He said nothing, but sat for the moment alternating between rage and jealousy. He looked at the burly form on the bridge, then at Kinsan. He thought of his love, then of his wounding. He at first determined to accuse her and fly at his antagonist, but afterwards reasoned that there was nothing to be gained by haste, and also that possibly he might be misinformed, if not entirely wrong.

Their visitor soon turned around, his back toward them, and as if disappointed at the prospect hung himself upon the bridge rail and stared vacantly at the distant horizon. Presently he straightened up and slowly walked away; and not until he had entirely gone did either Shibusawa or Kinsan speak; nor would they yet have resumed talking had Shibusawa been the first to begin. He still pondered a doubt about the real circumstance, though his faith in Kinsan strengthened as he himself recovered.

“I am so glad he has gone away. Oh, if he would only not come back! Did he frighten you much?” said she, her voice betraying her anxiety.

“I cannot say that I was so much as frightened, though I feel better now that he has gone,” said he, evasively. “Why, Kinsan, you do look pleased, and I really believe you, too, are glad to be rid of him. It is unfortunate that he came just at this time—I wonder if my being here influenced his coming? Still, I hardly believe it could have done so, because I do not even know his name, much less does he know me.”

“Oh, no. That was Tetsutaisho, an officer in the shogun’s army,” said Kinsan, assuringly and without divining Shibusawa’s purpose, “and I am certain it was not because you were here that he came. And I am so glad that you are here! I am lonely when I sit here by myself, and now—you will come again, will you not?”

Shibusawa did not answer her at once, but turned and looked, and her soft true eyes looked into his, and he saw how cruel he had been to let suspicion enter his heart and how unworthy of her confidence he had been. Then all his manhood rose and his thoughts became pure and his feelings true, and his courage spoke as he said: