And then a strange thing happened—and you must not fail to remember that stranger things happen in Japan than here—there came a crackling, ripping noise at the last word of that prayer, and the upper panel of the false picture loosed itself from the brocade to which it was attached and, falling, covered completely the lower panel and blotted out the whole. And that night yet, the little boy got his father's seal, and, where it fell, there he sealed it fast.
So that when his uncles again saw it they grew troubled, kowtowed and made a prayer. For suddenly, also, Arisuga, from a child, at ten had become man. All he said to them when they diffidently undertook a question was:—
"I know the samurai commandment: 'Thou shalt not live under the same heavens nor upon the same earth with the enemy of thy lord!'"
"The commandments are not for children," said the uncle from Osaka, gently.
"That I know well," answered Arisuga. "For I am not a child."
Said the terrified one from Kobé, "It does not mean that you must quit the earths and the heavens—"
"But, rather," supplemented the one from Osaka, "that they shall—"
"That you shall kill many enemies of your lord and live yourself—my child—"
"Cease! I am not a child," said Arisuga again, haughtily, "and I know the commandments!"
"Nevertheless that," said the one, "is a manifestation from the gods!"