A Muramasa Blade by Louis Wertheimber — Read

The first great grief which his young life had known now came upon Sennoske as he knelt by the side of his old attendant. A thousand recollections of the watchful care, kindness, and unvarying zeal and attachment of Yamagawa overwhelmed him, until he became thoroughly unmanned, and could only sob in a broken voice: "Oh, Yamagawa! why have you done this to me?"

"Listen to me, Sennoske," replied the old _samurai_,- whose present composure and serenity were in striking contrast with his appearance of half an hour before, his face, which showed no evidence of physical pain in spite of the suffering caused by his wound, being lit up by a happy smile at the evident deep-felt love and sympathy expressed by his young master,-"listen to me carefully, for my time is short. " As he spoke, he compressed tightly with both hands the gaping wound from which his blood and life were slowly oozing out. "The great enemy of your house, who has been the cause of all the misfortunes which have befallen it, is now the possessor of your sword. You know him by reputation. It is the notorious Taka Suke, in comparison with whose shameless, brazen-faced effrontery all other acts of Hōjō arrogance might well be characterized as humility itself. Here in my lap is my _kakioki_, my last will and testament, addressed to you, explaining everything. It was to be given to you in case of my death. Take it now and read it aloud. " Seeing that Sennoske, with his hands before his face, was still sobbing bitterly, he motioned to another of the party to do what he had asked; and the man addressed, an old soldier, at once complied, taking the document and reading as follows: