“Honda,” muttered he, at Esyo’s approach. “Is there none here, meaner than Honda, to serve me, in this my last right? Shame upon them, ungrateful beggars!”

“Shame upon you, my lord,” hissed Esyo, her blood fairly boiling, as she ran directly there. “What do you mean, by acting in this way?”

Ieyasu looked up, amazed if relieved. He had mistaken her for Honda.

“Oh, it is you, is it? I thought you safe in Ozaka, no doubt before this.”

“Well I might be, and you, too, were you not quite bent upon insulting others.”

“I, insult anyone? And who might it be, pray.”

“Among others, Yodogima, my sister.”

“Yodogima!”

“Yes, Yodogima.”

“Why so?”