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But the man would not be put off so easily as had the woman. He still insisted.
"
The daimio has ordered that there shall be a great hunt today for the heads of
the sei-yo-jin who have landed upon Yoka," persisted the man. "He will be angry
indeed if we do not call him in time to accomplish the task today. Let me speak
with him, woman. I do not believe that Oda Yorimoto still sleeps. Why should I
believe one of the sei-yo-jin? It may be that you have bewitched the daimio," and
with that he pushed against the door.
The corpse gave a little, and the man glued his eyes to the aperture. Barbara held
the sword behind her, and with her shoulder against the door attempted to
reclose it.
"Go away!" she cried. "I shall be killed if you awaken Oda Yorimoto, and, if you
enter, you, too, shall be killed."
The man stepped back from the door, and Barbara could hear him in low
converse with some of the women of the household. A moment later he returned,
and without a word of warning threw his whole weight against the portal. The
corpse slipped back enough to permit the entrance of the man's body, and as he
stumbled into the room the long sword of the Lord of Yoka fell full and keen
across the back of his brown neck.
Without a sound he lunged to the floor, dead; but the women without had caught
a fleeting glimpse of what had taken place within the little chamber, even before
Barbara Harding could slam the door again, and with shrieks of rage and fright
they rushed into the main street of the village shouting at the tops of their voices
that Oda Yorimoto and Hawa Nisho had been slain by the woman of the sei-yo-
jin.
Instantly, the village swarmed with samurai, women, children, and dogs. They
rushed toward the hut of Oda Yorimoto, filling the outer chamber where they
jabbered excitedly for several minutes, the warriors attempting to obtain a
coherent story from the moaning women of the daimio's household.
Barbara Harding crouched close to the door, listening. She knew that the crucial
moment was at hand; that there were at best but a few moments for her to live. A
silent prayer rose from her parted lips. She placed the sharp point of Oda
Yorimoto's short sword against her breast, and waited--waited for the coming of
the men from the room beyond, snatching a few brief seconds from eternity ere
she drove the weapon into her heart.
Theriere plunged through the jungle at a run for several minutes before he
caught sight of the mucker.
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