as a boy, his
handsome figure as a young man. These had brought him wealth and
position; gained, it was whispered, in vilest service to his lord. In
these days he had in his employ a _chu[u]gen_ named Isuke, or as some
say Kohei. Engaged before the mirror Kwaiba was applying the paint and
powder which of late had become necessary adjuncts to fit him to appear
before his lord. A gesture of pain and discomfiture, and then Kwaiba
turned irritably toward his satellite. "Isuke, you are a clever fellow.
Kwaiba has needed no aids to his looks--up to recent days. Now paint and
powder, all the armoury of a woman, or paraphernalia of an actor, hardly
avail to conceal the blotches which disfigure Kwaiba's face and body.
The voice broken and husky, the lightning pains in limbs and joints,
these violet patches--in such state it soon will be impossible to act as
attendant on his lordship's household service, as _kami-yakunin_. What
disorder eats into the life and happiness of Kwaiba?"

For a time Isuke made no answer, beyond a bow at his master's
acknowledgment of his cleverness, and in which he heartily concurred. He
seemed engaged in a close contemplation of the end of his nose. "Hei!
Hei!" It was all that Kwaiba could get out of him for the moment. Then
noting the growing anger Isuke began with--"Condescend beforehand to
pardon this Isuke. Though the anger of the Wakadono (young lord) is hard
to bear, yet a faithful servitor should speak. Deign to step this way."
He conducted Kwaiba to one of those small retired rooms, opening on an
inner garden and common to every properly built house of any size in
Nippon. He closed the few rain-doors, shutting out the light. Then
fetching a piece of camphor, he set fire to it. When the thick yellow
light flared strongly he took up a hand-mirror and passed it to Kwaiba.
Kwaiba was frightened at what he saw. His face was dark as that of a
peasant of Satsuma. Said Isuke--"The darkness is shown up by the light
of the burning camphor. The colour is due to the poison circulating
between the body and the outer skin. The white sunlight does not show up
this symptom. But there is another test." Lighting a candle, he took a
long steel _kanzashi_ needle and heated it to redness. Holding the cold
end by his head towel he grasped the arm of Kwaiba. The latter drew
back, afraid. "Nay, it will give no pain," said Isuke. He thrust the hot
length of the needle several inches under the skin. As far as Kwaiba was