“Ah,” said he, to himself, “I have it. She will be at the cave;—she is there now;—it is her only lookout, and she too may have seen this beautiful sight. The whole place is roused, and by this time on the move. If my ears serve me right, even the shogun is trying to make his way to the citadel! I shall have no trouble about entering at the gate, and will find her. I must go.”

His mind once made up he lost no time, but made ready and hurried away. Outside the castle grounds he found everything in confusion; a few lingered in front, others tramped up and down, some going, some coming, and all were in a state of feverish anxiety. At times almost an uncontrollable impulse to join in with the rest took hold of him, yet he did not yield but kept steadfastly to his purpose.

Shibusawa soon arrived at the cave, but to his dismay found it unoccupied. He sat down, and pondered. Presently he looked out over the vast expanse of tiled and thatched roof, and as his eyes lingered he comprehended the full measure of its content. There was at their door a force which proclaimed a greater, a grander civilisation, and could he but reach the seat of its activities he might know and determine its character. But was such a thing possible? He knew of no means; not even whence they came or what were their necessities. Yet those monsters of the deep must hail from somewhere, and could he but put himself on board without detection he would be carried thither. Whether they possessed a like means of subsistence he did not know; tradition did not tell him that, but he did know that the sea and the air contained food such as he required, and so long as they did not go beyond these he felt reasonably sure of being able to provide for himself. His very finger tips tingled with expectation—but Kinsan arose in his mind and he half whispered:

“No, I cannot, must not go without first seeing her. It is my duty, her right.”

Presently he started off and, not knowing just where to go, unconsciously turned toward Kinsan’s house, opposite to whence he came. A flight of less than a half dozen steps led down a small declivity, and when he had nearly reached the bottom he almost stumbled upon Kinsan, who lay, with her hands folded, crouching upon the lower step. He stooped quietly over her and whispered, “Kinsan,” but she did not answer him.

“She is sleeping,” thought he, “and I will sit here at her side until she has awakened. The pause will give me time to choose the words, and her presence the courage to speak.”

The warm breeze fanned and soothed, and the still, clear night inspired him. His mind ran on and out until transported into boundless fancy. The earth, the sun, the moon, and the stars were not of his world. All were in the great abyss beyond. He spoke, saying:

“Where?”

A voice answered:

“At my side.”