Sitting alone in a corner, Keiki, waited upon by the little maiden, found a quiet and comfort that three days ago he would have thought impossible. A strange comfort exhales from a perfectly appointed meal after the heart has been tried. It is the acme of despair, the realization of one’s duty to one’s self. Keiki, absorbed in these fantastic reflections, suddenly became conscious of the fact that for several minutes past the little maid had been making strange signals to him. Seeing this, he signed to her to advance. She did so, but in a faltering and almost fearful fashion. When near enough to him to speak without being overheard, she glanced in terror at his face and slipped to the ground, where she prostrated herself at his feet, her head nodding in frantic motions of servility.
“Why, what is this?” ejaculated the Prince, displeased.
“Y—your highness!” she gasped.
“Speak,” said Keiki, sternly. “You appear desirous of serving me. What is it?”
She rose tremblingly.
“You must not tarry here long,” she whispered. “The spies of the Shogun are about.”
“Ha!”
“It is broadly reported that the Shining Prince Keiki has escaped his fate. The roads are beset. They are tracking his footsteps. Even now some of them are before the house. Oh, my lord, I know you to resemble too closely the Shining Prince for you to linger here. We—the whole country—are in sympathy with thee and would befriend thee, but the shogunate—” She broke off, her fear and distress completely overpowering her.
Keiki laid an alert hand upon his sword.
“None may take me now,” he said, defiantly, “for I am become invincible.”