house. The three moved on to the wing containing Ume's chamber, and
the painting room. Mata heard the fusuma close gently, the nurse's
voice give admonition to "keep his spirit strong for this last stress,"
heard old Kano falter, "Farewell, my son, no one shall disturb you in
these rooms," and had barely time to regain her presence of mind as the
two men, Kano and the nurse, entered her kitchen. The former spoke:
"Mata, your young master is to remain, unmolested, in that part of the
house. Do not offer him rice, or tea, or anything whatever. When he
needs and desires it he will himself emerge and ask for food. Above
all things, do not knock upon his fusuma or call his name. These are
the physician's orders."

"Exactly!" corroborated the nurse, with a professional air.

"Kashikomarimashita!" muttered the old dame in sullen acquiescence.
"You need not have feared that I should intrude upon him!"

For three days and nights Tatsu remained to himself. The anxious
listeners heard at times the sound of restless pacing up and down,--the
thin, sibilant noise of stockinged feet sliding on padded straw. Again
there would be a thud, as of a body fallen, or sunken heavily to the
floor. Kano, on the second day, pale with apprehension, went early to
the hospital for a revocation, or at least a modification of the
instructions. The doctor's mandate was the same, "Do not go near him.
Life, as well as reason, may depend upon this battle with his own
despair. Only the gods can help him." To the gods, then, Kano went as
well; climbing the long, steep road to the temple, where he made
offerings and poured out from his anxious heart the very essence of
loving prayer.

On the third day, Kano being thus absent, and old Mata alone in her
kitchen as nervous, she would have told you, as a fish with half its
scales off, she heard the fusuma of the distant room shudder, and then,
with a sound of feeble jerks, begin to separate. She knew that it was
Tatsu, and rallied herself for the approach. Through the shaded
corridor came a figure scarcely animate, moving it would seem in answer
to a soundless call. It entered the kitchen halting, and looking about
as one in an unfamiliar place. On a square stone brasier, fed with
glowing coals, the rice-pot steamed. The delicate vapor, tinged with
aroma of the cooking food, made a fine mist in the air. Suddenly he
thrust an arm out toward the fire. "Rice!--I am faint with hunger," he
wh