rained into the castle moats. The
top of the hill reached, at what is now South Jimbocho[u], the shops and
houses of the one village hereabouts, Tayasu-mura, offered a last chance
for diversion. The steep slope of the Kudan hill was now before Rokuzo,
and beyond he had to pass through the lonely wood which harboured a
temple to the war god Hachiman, and which covered the site of the
present Sho[u]konsha or shrine to the spirits of the soldiers killed in
Nippon's wars. This road ran through the San-Bancho[u], then a lonely
quarter in which stood isolated from each other _yashiki_ of the
_hatamoto_. The district was filling up, under press of the needs of the
castle service for space immediately round about. But the process was a
slow one, and the district one much suspected by the lower classes.

Rokuzo was not fat. He was short, thick necked, sturdy with a
barrel-like roundness, and, owing to his drinking propensities, endowed
with legs the thinness of which found the conveyance of the upper
massiveness no mean task. Hence he stopped at the foot of the hill to
wipe the sweat from his face. He eyed with envy a low caste being, a
_heimin_ and labourer. Clad in a breech-clout the fellow swung rapidly
down the hill with his load of charcoal balanced at each end of the
carrying pole. It was etiquette, not modesty, which confined Rokuzo to
the livery of his master. He was compelled to a coat which, light and
thin as it was, cut off all the breeze from his muscular shoulders.
Well! Up the hill he must get. The rolling down was a matter of the
past. The _yashiki_, the house officer (_kyu[u]nin_) to whom report was
to be made, lay beyond. About to make the start a voice spoke in his
ear. Though soft and gentle it would have had no particular attraction
for the now thirsty Rokuzo. But apart from thirst Rokuzo was of the
thoroughly good natured kind. He was surprised at the beauty of the face
on which his eyes rested; still more so at the size of the bundle she
was trying to carry, and which plainly was far beyond her strength. The
rashness of benevolence overcame the not too energetic Rokuzo. Sigh as
he did over the conveyance of his carcass up the steep hill, he sighed
still more at thought of this fragile creature attempting to carry such
a burden.

She followed his eyes to the bundle. "Alas! Honoured Sir, what is to be
done? The _furoshiki_ is far beyond one's poor strength. Though the
distance is not great--only to Go Bancho