He knelt close under her casement, his head bent, and respectfully attentive.
She whispered.
“I wish you to do me a service; will you not, Yone?”
“Oh, my lady!” was all the young man could stammer, out of his eagerness to serve her.
“I know you are tired after your watch, and it was long—so long!” She sighed, as though she, too, had kept the watch with him.
“No, no!” cried the young guard, hastily. “Indeed I am honorably fresh, my lady. Do not spare me any service.”
“Then do you please run as swiftly as your honorable feet will carry you to the home of Sir Takemoto Genji, and bid him hasten to me here at once, without one moment’s delay. Now hasten—do not wait!”
Like a flash of wind the young soldier had sprung to his feet, had leaped across the small division to the bridge spanning the moat, and was speeding through the wooded park beyond.
In less than fifteen minutes the samurai Genji was bending the knee to the Lady Wistaria.
“Thy service, my lady!”