Thus abandoned by the only sister apparently left to her—without some hint or even a surmise as to the cause or purpose—and with a determined suitor speeding toward the destruction of the only one she loved, and with her own hands tied, and she powerless to succor him, Yodogima turned to composure alone for consolation—presumably a little body, unexpected and unmindful, careless and happy, as if an angel from heaven, tripped lightly into her presence, and throwing down a big, ungainly mask, bantered, rather provokingly, if happily:
You didnt know me at all, did you?
Jokoin! gasped Yodogima.
Yes; and Hideyoshi, with all his eyes, never saw a thing. What stupid people.
How did you find the way, Jokoin; and—what brings you?
I came to tell you—I just couldnt wait; they are such a poky lot, those captains and generals and would-be gallants—and it isnt any trouble, at all, to go anywhere one wants to go—how did you like my disguise?
I hadnt thought about that—it looks a bit scant—but where have you been?
Oh, Ive had lots of fun; went to the front—but Takiyama is a bore; cant think of anybody or talk about anything save someone, said to have lived sometime, called Christ—oh, but theyre a pesky lot, these Christians!
Jokoin! How you talk!
Its their way and—quite catching, you know; they say, there are a lot of them, already—in Hideyoshis service, though.