Another courier arrived, more anxious than the first.
Hideyoshi grinned, this time; saying, calmly, without any exultation:
The enemy wavers, and is—
Neither had this sentence been finished, when—Yodogima said not a word nor did she show any change of color, yet the blood seemed freezing in her veins—Hideyoshi threw down the message, exclaiming:
Tell them they know not what they say; an enemy is never defeated till captured, decapitated, and discredited. Go.
Evening wore away, and none remained to render the nights artfuller subtleties but Yodogomi and her now slaving protegé; servants and others less welcome, or more discerning, had found it convenient or expedient to busy themselves in more directions than one.
Esyo, paling at the significance of that last message, no longer bandied discretion or consulted verity in the making up of her mind just what she should or would do. Ieyasu had been deceived and a sister betrayed—what mattered; she would set things right, at the cost of double-dealing—another?
Still a third courier bounded into the open room in which they sat or lounged at will.
Hideyoshi grew apprehensive as he read; and gripping the message, snarled:
Ieyasu retreats—