“If you like; I can do quite well without either of you.”

“Perhaps.”

Ieyasu did not make the visit, however, and Yodogima, advised of the circumstance, consulted Hosokawa, Maeda’s most ardent friend; whose wife, Grace of Tango, a staunch Christian, not only bore intimate terms with Jokoin, keeping strict account of her entangling alliances, but actively inspired some acquaintance with all things pertaining accidentally or discreetly to the new religion.

“Let Ishida separate Maeda and Ieyasu, if he will, but see to it no harm is done either one; we cannot so much control men’s acts as adapt ourselves inadvertently to results,” urged Yodogima, no less concerned about Ieyasu’s than Ishida’s motive.

“How do you know that it is Ishida, who seeks their disalliance?” queried Hosokawa, unadvised, yet suspicious.

“Intuitively, I presume,” replied she, unconcernedly, but not without arousing deeper thought on his part.

“What would your ladyship have me do, then, if there is danger ahead for either or both of them; they must be gotten together in some way?” replied he, hopelessly at sea.

Yodogima shrugged her shoulders; a first glimpse at intrigue seemed ready to burst into fruitage more bitter than she could unmovedly contemplate.

“Whatever else you may advise, do not countenance, for a moment, Maeda’s leaving the castle. Let Ieyasu come here; it is proper that he should, and if he refuse, then beware: there are two reasons why Hideyori’s guardian should not expose himself.”

Hosokawa minded the advice, but Maeda did not; going directly to visit his friend Ieyasu, who had sooner left Azuchi, to resume uninterruptedly his residence at Fushima.