He took her hands in his very tenderly and yet with something of reverence in his gesture.  He looked into her eyes and he spoke very earnestly.  Every word seemed to come from his heart.

“Dear Miss Penelope,” he said, “it is very, very kind of you to have come here and warned me.  Only you cannot quite understand what this thing means to me.  Remember what I told you once.  Life and death to your people in this country seem to be the greatest things which the mind of man can hold.  It is not so with us.  We are brought up differently.  In a worthy cause a true Japanese is ready to take death by the hand at any moment.  So it is with me now.  I have no regret.  Even if I had, even if life were a garden of roses for me, what is ordained must come.  A little sooner or a little later, it makes no matter.”

She sank on her knees before him.

“Can’t you understand why I am here?” she cried passionately.  “It was I who told of the silken cord and knife!”

He was wholly unmoved.  He even smiled, as though the thing were of no moment.

“It was right that you should do so,” he declared.  “You must not reproach yourself with that.”

“But I do!  I do!” she cried again.  “I always shall!  Don’t you understand that if you stay here they will treat you—­”

He interrupted, laying his hand gently upon her shoulder.

“Dear young lady,” he said, “you need never fear that I shall wait for the touch of your men of law.  Death is too easily won for that.  If the end which you have spoken of comes, there is another way—­another house of rest which I can reach.”

She rose slowly to her feet.  The absolute serenity of his manner bespoke an impregnability of purpose before which the words died away on her lips.  She realized that she might as well plead with the dead!

“You do not mind,” he whispered, “if I tell you that you must not stay here any longer?”

He led her toward the door.  Upon the threshold he took her cold fingers into his hand and kissed them reverently.

“Do not be too despondent,” he said.  “I have a star somewhere which burns for me.  Tonight I have been looking for it.  It is there still,” he added, pointing to the wide open window.  “It is there, undimmed, clearer and brighter than ever.  I have no fear.”

She passed away without looking up again.  The Prince listened to her footsteps dying away in the corridor.  Then he closed the door, and, entering his bedroom, undressed himself and slept . . .

When Prince Maiyo awoke on the following morning, the sunshine was streaming into the room, and his grave-faced valet was standing over his bed.

“His Highness’ bath is ready,” he announced.

The Prince dressed quickly and was first in the pleasant morning room, with its open windows leading on to the terrace.  He strolled outside and wandered amongst the flower beds.  Here he was found, soon afterwards, by the Duke’s valet.