The mention of officers was an instant alarm to Shinsuké. Should he be caught on the spot, all his explanations would not clear him, after the preceding cases, of the misdeed he was no party to. Yet he could not think of leaving the two in the lurch. He rallied to aid Tsuya. Between them, the pair dragged Tokubey to his feet, hauling him by the shoulders; they half-carried and half-led him, as they started off, soon breaking into a run.
Taking a deserted path along between the postern walls of the mansions and the rice fields, the three had run on for five or six minutes, when they crawled into the shadow of some shrubbery growth, to snatch a while to recover their wind. Fortunately, there were no signs of their being tracked. Shinsuké took a hand towel out of his bosom and, ripping it into strips, bound the wounds which were still profusely bleeding.
“For all this you’re doing for me, Shinsuké san, I am grateful to you!” said Tokubey who sat crumpled, leaning on the lap of Tsuya who sat over the edge of the road,—and his voice carried a depth of feeling.
“—Just get me back home, and I’ll be saved. And I shall owe my life to you!”
“Look, master, are you sure you are steady? Do you think you can manage to walk?” inquired Tsuya, after some time of rest, and her voice was full of kindness, and heart-felt concern. “If you can’t walk, we two will carry you on our shoulders. Just get up and try how you can go.”
“Oh, I am well enough, now,” he answered, labouring to his feet, only to totter on his knees. He barely caught himself against her arms, again.
“Listen, man, I can see you’re in no shape to go. But why should we let you suffer so long, when I could give you what you need and speed you on—to hell!”
A sudden sweep of her arm, Tsuya took the reeling man by a cluster of his hair and hurled her whole weight upon him, who went down crushed, heavily thudding on the ground. She flashed out of her sash folds a razor, carried there concealed, and swung it over the upturned face. Barely in time he met her hand; straining what mortal strength still left in him, he turned his body and threw her off. As soon, he was up on his feet,—
“If I must die I’ll take you along, too!” he snarled, and rushed for a counter-attack, swinging his carving knife. What with the suddenness of it and the blinding darkness, Shinsuké was quite helpless to think of aught but to mope in his dismayed confusion about the two bodies in a deadly grip. While in this aimless agitation, his groping hands felt out Tokubey’s neck cramped somewhere between her feet. Instantly, he wedged in his weight and pulled them apart.
“You are with her to get me, I suppose! Come, you dog! Get me if you can!” said the wounded man, and now, in fiendish desperation, came upon Shinsuké who, however, quickly wrested the weapon out of his hand.