our earlier than
his custom. Also there was something unusual,--a new energy, perhaps a
new fear, noticeable in face and voice. But Tatsu, still bleeding with
his visions of the dawn, saw nothing of this. The premature visit
irritated him. "Go, go," he cried, turning his face sharply away.
"This is a full hour early. Am I to have no moments to myself?"

"My son, my son," pleaded the old man, "I have come a little before
time, because I have brought--"

"Do not call me son," interrupted the petulant boy. "It is
wretchedness to look upon you. She would be here now, but for you.
You killed her! You drove her to it!"

"No, Tatsu, you wrong me! As I have assured you, and as her own words
say,--she made the sacrifice from her own heart. It was that her
presence obscured your genius, my son. She was unselfish and noble
beyond all other women. She--went--for your sake--"

"For my sake!" jeered the other. "You mean, for the sake of the things
you want me to paint! Well, I tell you again, I will neither live
_nor_ paint! Yes, that touches you. Human agony is nothing to your
heart of jade. You would catch these tears I shed to mix a new
pigment! You do not regret her. You would think the price cheap, if
only I will paint. I hate all pictures! I curse the things I have
done! Would that, indeed, I had the tongue of a dragon, that I might
lick them from the silk!"

"Tatsu, my poor son, be less violent. I urge nothing! The gods must
do with you as they will, but here is something--a letter--" Fumbling,
with shaking fingers, in his long, black sleeve, he drew out a filmy,
white rectangle. The look of it, so like to one pinned to a certain
pillow in the dawn, sent a new thrill of misery through the boy.

"A letter! Who would write me a letter,--unless souls in the
Meido-land can write! Back, back,--do not touch me, or ere I kill
myself I will find strength to slay you first. I will drag you with me
to the underworld, as I journey in searching for my wife, and fling
your craven soul to devils, as one would fling offal to a dog! Speak
not to me of painting, nor of her!"

At the sight of extra attendants hurrying in, Tatsu waved them to leave
him, threw himself back, stark, upon the pillow, and closed his eyes so
tightly that the wrinkles radiated in black lines from the corners. He
panted heavily, as from a long race. His forehead twitched and
throbbed with purple veins.

Flung down cruelly from t