On the other hand, Say Koitza, when she began to question her son, had in view a certain object.  She was anxious to find out who the maiden was whose looks had at once charmed her.  Next she was curious to know whether the meeting of the two was accidental or not.  Therefore the leading question, “And you go with that girl?” Under ordinary circumstances his affirmative reply might have filled her motherly heart with joy, for Mitsha’s appearance had struck her fancy; but now it filled her with dismay.  Nothing good to her could result from a union between her child and the daughter of Tyope.  That union would be sure to lead Okoya over to the home of his betrothed, which was the home of her mother, where he could not fail to gradually succumb to the influence which that mother of Mitsha, a sensual, cunning, sly woman utterly subservient to her husband, would undoubtedly exert upon him.  It was not maternal jealousy that beset her now and filled her with flaming passion, it was fear for her own personal safety.  Under the influence of sudden displeasure human thought runs sometimes astray with terrific swiftness.  Say Koitza saw her son already going to the house of that fiend, Tyope, night after night, whereas in reality he had never called there as yet.  She fancied that she heard him in conversation with this girl, confiding in her little by little, just as Zashue used, before he and she became man and wife.  But what could Okoya tell after all that might prove of harm to her?  He was a mere child as yet.  At this stage of her reasoning, a cloud rose within her bosom and spread like wildfire.  Was it not strange that the discovery of the owl’s feathers, the betrayal of that dread secret, almost coincided with Okoya’s open relations with the daughter of the man who, she felt sure, was at the bottom of the accusation against her?  A ghastly suspicion flashed up and soon became so vivid that no doubt could arise,—­her own son must accidentally have discovered the fatal feathers; he himself without intending any harm must have mentioned them to the girl, perhaps even in the presence of her mother.

Say became satisfied that she held the key to her betrayal.  The riddle was solved.  That solution dissipated all hopes of salvation, for if her own son was to be witness against her in the dreaded hour when the tribal council had to determine for or against her guilt, there could be no doubting his testimony.  And Tyope would have that testimony in any case, for if Okoya should deny, Okoya’s own betrothed might be brought face to face with him as a witness.  Thus she reasoned in much less time than it can be written, and these conclusions overwhelmed her to such a degree that she turned away from her favourite child in bitter passion, with the conviction that her son in whom she had trusted was her destroying angel.  She hid her face from him in anger and grief.

Okoya noticed his mother’s feelings.  Her anger was inexplicable to him, unless it meant disappointment in relation to some of her own supposed dark designs.  It made him angrier still, for Say’s bitterness against the Koshare was in his opinion only feigned.  Persuaded that his mother was false to him, and that she was even harbouring evil designs, he rose abruptly and left the house in silence.