deep hat. Said
Kibei--"Don't be afraid. Bunzaemon San has forgotten pipe, or purse, or
something. He must go back to the Yamadaya." At the fellow's groping in
his garments and failure to understand he grew impatient. "A friend lies
at the Yamadaya. It is late, and they will not open at an unknown voice.
Entrance somehow must be had. Deign to lend your aid." At last the fellow
comprehended--"O'Moto San! A moment: my pipe...."--"Oya! The Danna Sama
has forgotten his pipe?" The girl went back the short distance to the
gate. She knocked and called. With sleepy tones the voice of Matsuzo the
_banto[u]_ was heard. The bar fell. The girl turned to look down the
street toward her guests. She looked right into the face of Kibei.
Dropping her lantern, with a smothered scream she fled.

Matsu, the _banto[u]_, looked with horror at the man before him. As
Kibei threw off his hat he turned to flee. Tripping, he fell. Kibei drew
him back by the leg. A blow cut him through the shoulder. As he rose
staggering a second vicious side swing sent the severed head to the
ground. The gate-man took the chance. Fleeing to the recesses of the
kitchen, he swarmed up a post and hid himself among the rafters of the
roof, amid the darkness of their shadows. Kibei turned back and
carefully barred the gate. With the key at the girdle of Matsuzo he
locked the bar chain. All was now ready for his visitation and search.

On the floor above they had a drunken guest in hand, trying to get him
to depart. A _banto[u]_ and several women formed the committee of
expulsion. "Ah! Money gone, one's welcome is quickly worn out in this
hell. But Jusuke does not budge. He fears not the whole pack of
foxes.... Thanks: deep the obligation of this Jusuke, extending to the
next life." A woman had picked up and restored his purse. "The bill is
paid? An early start To[u]kaido[u] way? Ah, true! Jusuke had forgotten."
He was now all compliments and thanks. Then in a rage--"Oh! The huzzy!
What is Jusuke's purse worth with nothing in it? Who has robbed the
purse of Jusuke?" He was madly fumbling his tobacco pouch. A woman put
his hand on the missing object in the folds of his girdle. He was
mollified. As they moved to the head of the stairs--"Take care! Jusuke
San, don't fall! Banto[u] San, deign to aid the guest." Refusing all
help the man lurched half way down the flight. Then he stopped, staring
and looking before him. At the foot stood Kibei, bloody sword in hand.
"Down w