The enemy fell like rice heads underneath a sickle bar, and Sanada, wheeling, charged those reeling columns that Hidetada had marched to no better results than Maeda’s.

CHAPTER XXXII

Ieyasu groaned under the weight of their defeat; no one knew better than he the futility of matching defiance against gun-powder, and Jokoin had forewarned him, inadvertently let the secret out, yet the would-be builder of an intended autocracy dared not delay at all the execution of his plans. One that had of necessity materialized doggedly, now found him inconveniently approaching the end of any real assured activity, then awaiting better, as he knew only too well, the internal weakening of a democracy engrafted firmly, if insecurely, by Hideyoshi, in the face of him.

His own forces, the Tokugawas, upon whom he could rely, were inadequate to batter down the defenses round Ozaka, and Yodogima, with the Christians and their devices safely driven into her camp, required only the opportunity to win over a dissenting element; who had already begun to smart, if not waver, under his very questionably assumed domination. These he had placed as well as he could in the teeth of danger, not only to save his own meager samurai, and Hidetada’s raw recruits, together constituting the heart and the flower of the Tokugawa, but to weaken no less, if possible, the besieged. To do this, a midnight attack proffered an only hope—he must not disclose the fact, yet knew of his own knowledge that a daylight engagement meant disaster. Could Harunaga have been inveigled into wasting his ammunition upon darkness, whatever the outcome of Maeda, and the daimyos, those scarred samurai of his, following up the fiery youth under Hidetada’s command, had made quick work of all that should be left at the castle.

All these plans, so carefully laid, if inadvertently executed, had missed the outcome expected; the chagrinned and defeated master at last lay exhausted and hopeless; he had threatened harakiri as a last resort; the bushido should not be violated; Hidetada alone consoled him; the fragments of his beaten youths were returning in handfuls; word came in, also, of Hideyori’s marshaling his untouched reserves and that the reorganized and fired-up hosts of democracy might be expected to swoop down upon them at any moment.

“Prepare yourself, Hidetada; there is but one honor left us.”

Withdrawing tearfully, the obedient son, an enforced husband and dearly-bought shogun, staggered to his own deserted quarters; only one remained to comfort him.

“What now, my lord?” inquired Esyo, gallantly, if concerned.