It was with feelings strangely mingled that the concourse prepared to depart. For their good, the farmer had suffered martyrdom; himself and his family were swept like insects from the earth, but not from the grateful memories of the people. No sooner was the inner drawbridge raised behind the departing despot, than with one accord all meekly knelt while the Abbess issued orders. Her brow was more sombre than its wont, her jaw more firmly set, as the troubled elders related what had happened. She had prayed for light, but Buddha had vouchsafed no answer. What was this coil that was winding slowly but surely round the son of him who had been her husband? Ay, round her own son as well, the noble Sampei. It was under misapprehension that Koshiu had included him in his anathema, supposing him the seducer of his child; yet here was the child, clad now in the crape of a nun, as pure as she had ever been. The farmer was in error, and surely idle curses recoil on those who launch them. Sampei, the brave and generous, was without reproach. Even sleepy Buddha must know that. Perchance he was at this moment rating Koshiu, on the further bank of the mystic Sandzu, for his precipitate injustice. Masago strove to persuade herself that it must be so, whilst striving to console the terror-stricken Miné, and yet at the bottom of her heart there was apprehension, a dull weight of cold foreboding.
The ways of Heaven are so strange, so unaccountable sometimes, and to our purblind vision so unjust, that the most robust of faith is sometimes sorely shaken. Miné wrung her hands, refusing comfort. As with trembling fingers she untied the bonds which supported her dead father, she prayed to him with cries and lamentations. It was through her own wrongheaded madness that the mistake had occurred. Sure her parent knew it now. If the curse must fall on one of the two, let it be on her, for she was in fault, not the glorious young General. Could he hear her now, her father? Oh, for some sign that he could hear and would grant her humble petition! Wretched, wretched child! Her punishment was already greater than she could bear, for was not she doomed to drag on a sad existence, stripped of all her kin. Had she but behaved as a dutiful daughter should, instead of grieving now, heart-broken, she would be standing on the further bank of the river of death along with Gennosuké, and little Sohei, and sweet Kihachi. Alack! alack! While the bereaved daughter raved, distracted, the elders of Tsu and the outlying villages were taking counsel. A notice had been handed to them, on the part of their lord, which ran thus:--"The property of the deceased, his rice fields and corn fields, and forest and mountain land, shall be sold without delay, and divided into two parts; one shall be paid over to the lord of the estate; the other, by his extreme condescension, shall be the portion of the culprit's daughter, who has been permitted to live. This is to show how godlike and noble is your master; and it is hereby strictly forbidden to make comments on the sentence, or find fault with this his decision."
One-half for Miné, who was in some sort an heiress, then. Poor heart! She little recked of her good fortune. The temple yonder would be the richer for her portion, for she was Buddha's servant now,--his handmaid till her spirit was released. With regard to the dead, the elders consulted awhile, and then with calm decision Zembei, supported by Rokubei, rose from his knees and spoke.
"Dear friends," he said, "Koshiu, who suffered this day, bruised his bones and crushed his soul for your sakes. In appealing direct to the Most Holy Mikado he sinned greatly, but 'twas from excess of zeal; and in being compelled to see those he loved massacred before his eyes, his punishment was in excess of his misdemeanour. We have decided that honour shall be paid to him, for indeed before his death he was the mouthpiece of the Eternal, who deigned to speak through his lips. It is meet therefore that we, his old friends, who loved him and his as ourselves--though perhaps on one occasion we were unduly selfish--should undertake this matter. We will leave our homes and lands in possession of our heirs, and, shaving our heads, will retire for a while to the top of the holy mountain; and after a period of probation, will descend from Mount Kôya in Kishiu, and, becoming priests, will wander from town to town, praying at every shrine for the souls of the departed, collecting as we go from the charity of all good people. And then, having collected enough, we will erect a temple over their bones, with six Buddhas in bronze to do them honour, and there shall prayers be offered up for ever for them, and also for us."
The people listened to the oration, and bowed their heads without a word, for the decision of the elders was good and natural. All therefore lighting paper lanterns, for it was dark now, turned to follow across the outer moat, away along the straggling interminable street, the procession of the dead.
Masago had accepted a temporary trust, and it was well. Within the darkling groves of her sacred pines should the victims lie at peace, until such time as, by divine grace, the elders should return to fulfil their holy task; and it behoved those here assembled, who had witnessed the sacrifice, to offer a prayer together, and commence among themselves a collection for the building of a shrine.
Solemn and slow, like an army of glow-worms, the procession wended along to the sad chant of nuns and bonzes; and, unknown to them, as the simple people marched, there followed a fervent benison from the lips of one despairing. The dreary chatelaine was sitting at an upper casement of the castle, wistfully gazing into the night.
Recovering consciousness, the Lady O'Tei found herself in her bower, surrounded by grieving maidens, and was relieved, glancing fearfully around, to miss the figure of my lord. She was spared his hateful presence. For that small mercy, thanks. For, still and self-possessed as she had appeared during the ordeal, thereby winning the admiration of Sampei, and, even for a time, the grudging approval of No-Kami, the chatelaine had suffered so intensely as to produce a crisis in her nature.
During the short while that the scene lasted, years seemed to have passed over her head. Hitherto she had been weary and empty and unhappy--deeply miserable, but yet with a germ of hope half stifled. That germ was quite dead now, shrivelled and black. She was beset with an intense craving for rest and sleep,--for the fragrant perfume of the earth. Although the execrated name of Hojo was hers, the scathing curse on all who bore the name passed harmless over her. Her conscience was clear. She had done all that within her lay to save the victims, and, calm and still in outward aspect, had suffered far more than they. A threat of proximate death?--release! The world, whose beauty she had so intensely enjoyed ages ago at Nara, was repellent now,--a hideous mockery,--a skull crowned with flowers. For how false was its song of sweetness, since such wickedness and injustice flourished in its midst. A world of disease and pain and sorrow. In this life are not many punished for their virtues, as a set-off to the manner in which others are rewarded for their vices? What wonder if people fall under burthens too heavy for their backs?
Koshiu and his had already entered on a new and smiling existence; if his dying words might be believed, had started under sunny auspices on the next round of life. And at the same time he had prophesied that no Hojo henceforth might ever win peace. They were doomed to wander from one globe to another, gaining no step, rising no higher on the earth, for all eternity! How horrible! So dread a bolt overshot its mark; for sure the universe must be ruled by fiends if those whose crime is to bear an execrated name are for that to be undone for ever. To die, and try again, and yet again, in vain--a weary prospect. The sooner the better, after all, for no future phase could be less tolerable to the Lady O'Tei than the present one. She was condemned, as it seemed, never to attain aught that she desired; never to have a prayer answered, or a wish gratified. And all that she now longed for was repose. Ah, how vain that wish! For never may we enjoy perfect rest save in far-off Nirvana--away in the incalculable and limitless Nirvana! where, when time is dead for us, refined and freed from the last speck of dross, we are to achieve the reward of nonexistence.
O'Tei had learned to despise her husband more and more, but now she had a new and positive feeling for him--active and sore and gnawing--one ofintensest hatred. And she was his--bound to obey his whim. How long? For his part, he took little trouble to conceal that he hated her, and would be glad to be rid of an encumbrance. Should she fling herself at his feet, and, baring her white bosom, implore the mercy of his dirk? No. She shuddered as she thought that he would laugh--that fierce and ugly laugh of his that made her blood run cold--would spurn and revile, hissing forthrecreant, but yet would forbear to strike her. There was nothing for it but plodding patience,--a stringing of the nerves to endurance--slow, continuous, monotonous--the hardest of all tasks to an overwrought and nervous woman.
Meanwhile Masago, moving like a tall still ghost at the head of the procession, was disturbed and exercised in mind. How strangely things were going. If she might only be allowed to see. What thunderous clouds were gathering? Was the appalling prophecy to be accomplished to the letter? Like the chatelaine, her being rose in protest. Was her own brave boy, innocent of all wrong, to be involved with the rest, simply because his name was Hojo--the guiltless suffering for the guilty? Why, so was hers. Though but a second wife or concubine, she was mother of a Hojo--proud to call herself Hojo--jealous of the family honour, although of plebeian birth. She could quite understand the feelings of the rough warriors towards a chatelaine who was to them a riddle; but she, discerning, renowned for subtle acumen, could see under the rind what a fragrant nature was O'Tei's, if it had not been nipped half-blown. She sighed heavily as she walked, and pondered of O'Tei. What of this new element introduced into the castle--of discord surely? Not of necessity so. Should No-Kami elect to take the new-comer to himself, as folk already whispered, what of it? Had not his father done the same? And she, Masago (concubine), and the bellicose Tomoyé (wife) had never quarrelled.
But then O'Tei was so different from her predecessor. She was so odd and sensitive and self-contained, given to contemplative fancies which served no good purpose. Masago, the sage, was quite angry sometimes when she considered the education of O'Tei. She, an abbess, should know something of such matters, and there was no doubt about it that the bonzes and priestesses of Nara had blundered. The heiress of Nara was destined by her birth to a grand alliance, to reign in a world of strife, and they should have combated, while the nature of their pupil was yet malleable, such tendencies as might be likely to interfere with the young lady's future happiness. Dancing the kagura in a wood was all very well for priestesses, but in a fierce age, when every man's hand is at his fellow's throat, the female head of a warlike household should be taught to hold her own. Poor O'Tei had never been properly prepared, and was in truth no more fit to cope with the difficulties of her high position than would be the merest coolie's daughter.
In the candour of self-communing Masago admitted this much to herself, making apologies the while for the shortcomings of her favourite, and laying the blame upon the priesthood.
And again the question would assert itself--Was the new element for harmony or discord? If she could only know, and help to keep matters straight. If O'Tei were sensible, she would accept the second wife with gratitude, for she would be relieved of the society of one whom she abhorred. But then O'Tei was so peculiar. And so much depended on the attitude assumed by the second wife, if second wife she were to be. She, Masago, and Tomoyé had got on so splendidly that, as she thought of the past, a faint blush of self-complacency tinged the Abbess's ascetic cheek. No doubt about it. She, Masago, had displayed, as she usually did, consummate tact. In fact, in their instance, the two wives completed each other. Each had the talent which was denied to her companion, for Tomoyé often declared that though her muscle was a marvel her brain was wanting, while Masago was the best of advisers, although no warrior. Hence, whilst both adoring their lord from their own point of view, they could perfectly trust each other without jealousy, and play into one another's hands--a fact which was clearly proven when the regnant Hojo wearied of his concubine. Tomoyé did her best to retain the second wife (not knowing what the next fancy of her lord might be), and constantly sought counsel from Masago after her assumption of the crape.
Masago therefore, as she walked, summoned to her side the devoted elders who were so soon to embrace the priesthood, and cross-questioned them narrowly. They had observed, had they, in my lord's visage, how desperately he had become enamoured? They were certain that his sudden passion would insist on being gratified? But what if the travelling geisha were a light-o'-love to be picked up too easily to-day and cast forth to-morrow? Rokubei shook his head. The astute Masago--all-wise counsellor--would never venture so futile a suggestion had she once scanned the lady with her searching scrutiny. Oh, a cunning and fascinating lady! A petulant and wilful lady, and an obstinate! Ay, and a circumspect. What object could she have had in insisting on the bodies being given up, except to ingratiate herself with the lower lieges? What cared she, a stranger from afar, for a farmer of Tsu or his family? And then, that way she had of sending gleams out of her dark velvet eyes from under the deep fringes. Even he, Rokubei, who spoke, and who shortly on the holy hill was to have his pate shaven, was fain to admit, under the seal of secrecy, that his own, for the future ascetic, bosom had been pervaded by inconvenient warmth under the glamour of those lightning shafts, and all the while he knew that they were intended for another. And my lord, so inflammable, so given to indulgence, who knew so little of the curb! Masago might believe, or not, the speaker, but it was clear to him that in a few days--nay, hours--the too fascinating geisha O'Kikú would rule the Daimio and his vassals, whether for good or evil was as yet in the womb of time.
Masago listened, and became more and more uneasy. Could it be possible that she, who had that day only appeared upon the scene, was the chosen instrument--selected beforehand and arrived exactly in time--for the fulfilment of the prophecy? Was she to undermine with her pink little fingers the great dynasty of Hojo? and, if so, how? For the advantage of the dynasty she, the discarded second wife, would gladly sacrifice herself and wear her fingers to the bone; would even surrender the life of her dearly-beloved son Sampei for its advantage. Fool! unreasoning woman, and incorrigible fool! Who was she to presume to combat Destiny?--to raise her weak hand in feeble protest against the finger of Buddha, the all-seeing? Although the blasphemous suggestion had unbidden entered her brain, vigils and much praying would be needed to atone for its presence. She would kneel on the stones throughout the ensuing darkness, praying for pardon and for light. How may we, however watchful, guard against presumption--against pitting our puny sagacity against the Infinite?
And though she fulfilled her self-imposed penance, remaining until dawn, despite years and infirmities, with forehead resting on the stones, maternity struggled with asceticism. Her bowels yearned over Sampei--the pride, the flower of Japan--and she prayed as only a mother can pray that her boy might escape the curse. How willingly, she pleaded, would she herself submit for his dear sake to recommence the ladder from the bottom. She knew not, of course, how high she had attained by long and painful climbing, but from her present consideration and eminence she must be considerably advanced on her pilgrimage. She would sacrifice all--all--with what ecstatic joy--for his sake. And as she lay convulsed in the dark, with the drops of a mother's travail coursing down her wrinkled brow, she never dreamed that in the pure intensity of undimmed devotion she might be in the act of rising yet another step. In the morning, feeble and exhausted, she turned her to the newborn orb as he showed above the glorious sea, and, vaguely relieved, sat basking in his beams. Then struggling up she groped to her cell with lagging feet, and sank into a stupor of fatigue.
And Sampei, what of him, under the newrégime, inaugurated so unexpectedly? Could his mother have delved into his storm-riven soul, she would have won no comfort by her prayers. Never was luckless warrior so hedged about with difficulties, which might not be vanquished with the sword. His influence over No-Kami was proved to be practically nil, for the latter was unable to comprehend his brother's character any better than that of his wife. What good then was to be gained by lingering at Tsu? The question had propounded itself before, to be set aside. Why shun it now? More than once Sampei determined that flight is in some cases the truest valour, and on every occasion the haunting and ever-present face of his early love upbraided him for selfishness, in that he was her only champion.
It was a fine specimen of bravery, in sooth, to be self-elected "own true knight," and run away at the first appearance of the enemy. That the new-comer would prove an enemy there was little room for doubt. Such a reproach should never be hurled at our young General, he doughtily determined. The more he saw of the fair O'Kikú, the more uneasy did he grow. There was no knowing how soon O'Tei might require protection from her. He might be of use. That was enough. Under the circumstances, despite his mother's warnings, Sampei resolved to stay--moth dancing round a candle--and keep an eye upon the geisha.
The proceedings of that winsome fairy, when installed within the castle, bade fair to set its inmates by the ears. With a vast parade of prudery she insisted at first upon apartments being provided as remote as might be from my lord's. A series of pleading messages, mingled with threats, were required ere she would consent to appear in the hall and perform graceful measures, or sing and play upon the samisen. Her performance finished, she would smile, and bow, and kiss her finger tips, and then flee like the timid hare. When No-Kami, who, tantalised, grew hourly more amorous, chid his guest for suspicion of his motives, she shrugged her shoulders, and imperiously demanded her kago. "I am detained here against my will," she would remark pouting. "'Tis monstrous dull, and to return to delightful Kamakura is my most ardent wish." And then with distracting little sighs wrung from a plump heaving bosom, she would dilate upon the glories of the Shogun's court,--tell of the tiltings, the hawking parties--constant flow of jocund gatherings--till the undisciplined Daimio clenched his nails into his palms with jealousy, and the lady laughed behind her fan.
Before many days had passed, it was announced that O'Kikú had consented to remain at Tsu, the acknowledged second wife; and the samurai congratulated one another, looking forward to a period of liveliness. As for their chatelaine, they thought no more of her; took no heed of her incomings or outgoings; for she drew the curtains of her litter close, and rarely went forth at all except on some charitable errand. Really such mean-spirited conduct in a Hojo's wife was a distinct besmirching of the name; and the younger and more unruly of the warriors purposely turned their backs upon her kago, to avoid saluting its passage.
The Lady O'Tei, as proud as any of them, though they wist it not, marked their growing insolence, and stored their insults in her embittered heart; and more than ever loathed her lord, on account of her false position, as well as his new favourite. From the moment of the latter's advent O'Tei abandoned for ever any idea of attempting to exert influence over him. On that last occasion when she bowed her pride and humbled herself to the very dust before No-Kami, the attempt was crowned with disaster. It was decreed that she must live, must breathe the same air as he. What must be must; but she would look on him in future as little as she might. That he should choose to take a second wife, the first or legitimate one proving barren, was not surprising. The latter had neither right nor desire to object; but it was clearly his duty to see that the introduction of the second spouse brought no slight upon the first. Instead of demanding her rights, and boldly grappling at once with a situation that was ominous of evil, and so defining the geisha's place without more ado, O'Tei made another mistake. Haughtily she withdrew within herself and brooded over her wrongs, leaving to the intruder a clear field, of which she was not slow to take advantage.
Having achieved the position for which she had so cleverly angled, O'Kikú threw down the mask, shook off her bashful ways. Wherever my lord could go, the damsel argued, so could she, for was she not young and active? By his side in the chase she rode, untiring. When he reviewed his men within the outer moat, she stood beside him, and with amusing sharpness rated them all soundly for their awkwardness. Accustomed to a disdainful mistress who interested herself not at all in their doings, the warriors were surprised and enchanted. She would even condescend to come down sometimes, looking so fresh and bright and cheery, into the outer hall, where the soldiery lounged, yawning, and administer reviving draughts. The throat of the soldier, she would laughingly observe, is curiously parched, always yearning for saké,--quite a serious disease, and catching too; one which was common in the army. And then she would familiarly take their swords from them--the swords which are the souls of the samurai--and closely examining the blades, demand the genealogy of each.
No-Kami was flattered when he observed what a favourite his choice was becoming with high and low alike. The men, one and all, adored her, some of them declaring that she was a sunbeam detached miraculously from the orb of life to illumine the darkness of their fortress.
At this moment the ambition of O'Kikú should have been satisfied, for she could wind my lord and all his men around her finger, ruling them as she listed. She held in supremest contempt the real chatelaine, as an enemy not worthy of her steel--usurping her position and her duties; taking pleasure in exposing her to ridicule. Low born as she was herself--sprung from the gutter--there was something particularly delightful in insulting the heiress of Nara; but the sharp, tiny pins did not seem to rankle. This was annoying. Egged on little by little, piqued by O'Tei's attitude of scornful indifference, the concubine went dangerously far. She gathered around her a bevy of maidens more numerous and more splendidly attired than those of her superior; she exacted from the soldiery special homage which was due to the legitimate chatelaine alone; even presumed, after a time--culminating impertinence--to take unto herself the best litter, the one emblazoned with the Hojo badge upon gold lacquer and the gilded poles and brocaded curtains, declaring that since O'Tei chose to go only into the low purlieus of the town, a less resplendent equipage was better suited to her degraded taste.
O'Kikú should have been quite happy. But when is a vulgar-minded, low-born woman happy who is consumed in the ratio of pampering by ambition and greed and caprice? Having attained the summit of present desire as planned on her arrival, she set herself to gratify her fancy in another way. At first sight she had been smitten with Sampei; but, on discovering that, though the elder, he held the second place, had prudently postponed his conquest until a more convenient period. That moment was now come. She had abundant leisure for the task. Sure a warrior should be a willing slave of beauty. Yet when she warily reconnoitred the ground, she marvelled at his coldness. Every inch a splendid young soldier, he should have been less chill. She made purring advances, favoured him with a few of the arrows under which his brother had succumbed; and these shafts fell so short that she guessed at once, with quick jealousy, that she had a rival. His heart was not his to give. How provoking! for she had so cleverly arranged that the two--he and she--were to become such friends!
On his side, Sampei (an adept in such matters) was not slow to read her purpose, and, horrified at her calculating treachery, boldly reviled her with rough words. She smarted and winced under the whip, and wished for him all the more. It was idle to feign, and her speech was as plain as his. She did not love her husband--O'Tei herself did not gauge his low worth more clearly--she loved him, Sampei, and gloried in it. See! For a caress she would be his slave, and fawn at his feet like a dog. No Eta could be more abject than she, if he would but look on her with love. A little--a very little--and she would be so grateful, since, on her side, there was enough for both. Wreathing her white arms about him, while his body quivered with disgust, she cooed and prayed and worshipped, and uttered a sharp cry of pain as, unable to endure the ordeal, he flung her rudely on the ground.Sheprate of love! he cried. How dared she defile the holy word with such foul lips as hers?
Furious--burning with shame at her repulse--she scoffed at him.
"Youtalk big of virtue," she sneered, with cruel lines about her mouth, "not knowing that I can read your secret. Treachery? What is my treachery to yours? I am but a concubine. You love your brother's wife--the mawkish doll of wax!--and she, as guilty as yourself, has doubtless fallen an easy prey, since 'tis plain that she hates my lord."
That shaft, at least, went home, for Sampei turned pale. Was it written so plainly on his face that all who ran might read? A useful champion--a true knight--whose faithful service it would be to guide his mistress to her ruin. He must go away--far away--since his tell-tale features could not keep the secret. And yet--to leave her here at the mercy of this wicked woman!
O'Kikú perceived what was passing in his mind, and was for the moment satisfied. She held revenge within her palm whenever she should choose to use it. Sampei had spurned her. Well, she could afford to wait; for what he had been powerless to deny might prove an invaluable discovery. Sampei and O'Tei loved each other. Judging others from her own standpoint, she had no doubt of their guilt. Perchance he would soon tire of such an icicle, and she might woo and win him after all. If not, she could use her discovery to avenge the slight, and free herself of the inconvenient presence of both wife and paramour. It would be so easy to open the eyes of the unsuspecting Daimio, and goad him deftly on until the two brothers were at open enmity.
For a time she must abandon her designs upon the General, and lull the pangs of disappointment and injured vanity by drowning thought in excitement. Since she had bared her spotted heart to him, there was no use in assuming a mask. On the contrary, her recklessness would sting him like a serpent's bite since, knowing what she knew, he dared not betray her to No-Kami. It pleased O'Kikú, therefore, to abandon prudence, and cast shame aside. Secure of unlimited sway over the infatuated despot, who would gladly accept such explanations as she vouchsafed, she selected lovers from among the soldiery as they struck her wanton fancy, disdaining to cloak her proceedings from the shocked Sampei, who hourly grew more troubled and uneasy.
On which side lay his duty? How should he act? Were he to denounce the geisha to his brother in the matter of her declaration to himself, she would swear it was spitefully conceived, and No-Kami would refuse to be convinced. 'Twas fortunate that O'Tei dwelt in such strict seclusion, enveloped in the armour of purity, innocent of guile. But what was to be the upshot of it all? As the falling stone increases in velocity, so would the insolence of the concubine unchecked in shamelessness. The tempest growled on the horizon, and grew apace; the cloudlet was spreading over the heavens. Awe-stricken by the sinister turn which, so rapidly, events were taking, the martyr's anathema rung in Sampei's ears. The house of Hojo was to fall. Already, in his mind's eye, could he see it reel, hear the crash of its disruption. For a long time past the conduct of the head of the clan had been indefensible. Buddha, awakened by clamour, was angry--and no wonder!
In his perplexity and indignation an ensanguined mist passed across the vision of Sampei. The hint thrown out by Nara some time since festered within his breast. The history of Japan teems with the enmity of brothers, he had said. Was it indeed written that the last of the Hojos was to perish by a fraternal hand? For the honour of the name which they both bore, must the cord of an unworthy career be severed, and by him? It would be well for the suffering land that No-Kami's catalogue of misdeeds should be closed, but not by the hand of a brother. Not murder! The honest soul of Sampei recoiled before the insidious vision. It was vain to seek counsel of the Abbess, since she confessed herself as perplexed as he.Waitwas all she could advise. If the curse of Koshiu was to be accomplished, it would be accomplished, whatever the efforts of the doomed. If his was decreed to be the avenging sword, was he not a helpless infant in the grip of destiny? The will of Heaven would be pronounced more clearly soon. Meanwhile, there was nothing for it but to wait. Peering sadly into the dark-lined future, Sampei waited in suspense, gloomy on the threshold of despair.
Tidings reached Masago in her dim retreat of what was passing, and she sighed. The finger of an outraged God was on them, that was becoming certain. The fate of Hojo was to be a warning lesson to generations yet unborn. By-and-by a rumour came, she could not tell from whence, that the Daimio was going mad. In sooth, he was never sane, and could scarce be held accountable for his growing pile of crimes. In accordance with the rearing which befitted his rank and station, he had scoffed with ribald laughter at a peasant's prophecy, treating with levity the wild words of one who had deservedly been punished. And yet there were moments when, though he fought against the illusion, he was haunted by the dying face,--when those glazing eyes that reflected the sunset shone out of the dark like glowing coals, to wither and scorch his soul. In the night he would wake, seeming to hear again louder than temple bell the words of evil omen, and then he would hug so fiercely the form of the slumbering O'Kikú upon the mat beside him, that she would turn on him with peevish reproach.
The visions and the voices increased, till he was afraid to be left alone. His brutish nature became yet more vindictive and morose, and the geisha, vowing that as a companion, after his paroxysms of unreasoning fear, he grew intolerable, freely dosed him with saké, to subdue his importunate tremors. In his chamber she would leave him chained by drunken stupor, while she, with the favourite of the hour, caroused below. This proved so convenient an arrangement, that to obtain for herself a liberty of action yet more complete, she tempted her lord to increased potations, till there arrived at length a period when he was scarcely ever sober.
But then constant inebriety has its intermittent moments of recoil, when the stomach sickens at the drink, yet craves for it, and at such dismal times the smile would fade even from the brazen visage of the baleful enchantress, for my lord would then pass without warning from the extreme of grovelling anguish to the fury of mania; and O'Kikú wondered, with blanched cheek, whether, perhaps, some day in one of these mad fits the Daimio would rise and slay her.
One evening he woke with chattering teeth, and finding himself alone in the quickly-gathering shadows, stumbled upon his feet, with curses on the concubine in that she deserted him in his extremity. Did she not know how much he feared the darkness, and how necessary it was on many counts to conceal his condition from his warriors? Had he not raised her up to be partner of his bed, giving her all she desired, gratifying her every whim? And yet what recked the selfish creature of his wishes, of his terrors, his requirements? Naught! Regardless of his agony, she could quietly go away and amuse herself, leaving her lord and benefactor a prey to goblins. Shivering, with swimming brain, he groped his way in search of her; and somehow found himself, ere he was aware, upon the drawbridge that led beyond the moat.
A chill wind was blowing from the river that lapped the frowning walls--a singing murmur seemed to whisper "Come!" Shuddering, obedient to a spell against which his will was powerless, he stumbled on. How dismal dark it was! From the windows of the hall came a ruddy line of light which served to intensify the black. There was a faint sound of brawling within, a clash of steel, a din of bandied threats, followed by the long rippling laugh of the geisha, and then the twang of her samisen. "Always in that hall among the soldiers," No-Kami querulously muttered. "She loves me less and less--cares nothing for my trouble." Since her arrival, he reflected, there had been a gradual and grievous decrease of discipline among the samurai,--a growing tendency to quarrel and snarl in open disrespect ofhim. Had she betrayed his secret? Had she divulged the nameless horror, and the cowardice which unnerved his arm, unsettled his reason, and undermined his strength? Impulse bade him turn and stride into the hall, and there assert himself; and then the breeze, like clammy fingers, stroked his cheek and murmured, "Come!" Whither was he to proceed? Was it the water that summoned him? No! had not the farmer said that the river should ebb away? Folly! why, what was this? Was he, the head of the Hojos, as infatuated as others? Did he believe in the threats of the martyr? On--on, away to the left--whither? To the dim belt of grim grey trees that reared gnarled arms aloft, groaning and swaying in the wind. The accursed trees--home of malevolent ghosts! The trees that chanted ever their loving call to ignominious death.
With beads of sweat upon his brow No-Kami listened, and, not knowing what he did, unwound his long silk sash. Then out of the dark shone forth, like glowing coals, the eyes he knew too well, and then there pealed upon the night a mocking shout. Hist! what was that? The voice of Futen, the wind imp? or Raiden, king of thunder, beating upon his drums? What was he doing with that sash?--he, the proud No-Kami? Horror! he, the head of the Hojos, was about to hang himself--to disgrace his line for ever!
With a growl of fear No-Kami sped away, his fingers in his ears, back toward the light--and the saucy geisha, seeing a crouching shadow pass, complained of some unclean animal. With stealthy speed, born of terror and shame, the Daimio crept away, nor stopped to draw breath till, safe in the sanctuary of his chamber, he fell panting, prostrate on the mat. Another instant, and, unconscious of what he did, he would have swung on the fateful tree. Strange that it should have been the warning voice of Koshiu that had averted supreme disgrace. Why? Was he reserved for something yet more infamous? Better now, at once, to make an end of it--perish as a Daimio should when driven to bay by his own well-tempered steel. Groping with aspen hands for the sword-rack, he took his dirk, and unsheathing it, passed a finger on its edge. A blade of Sanjo's, a masterpiece. Yes. Here in the dark, alone, he would perform the rites of harakiri, and join with unsmirched brow the line of haughty ancestors.
Footsteps, a yellow glimmer through the paper of the sliding doors. O'Kikú's tardy feet? No, the heavier footfall of a man. A panel was pushed aside. Sampei, shading with his hand the flickering flame of a candle. The latter peered in, and uttered a cry. The dirk, the body bared, the kneeling posture. The intention of the Daimio was evident, though rising with a fierce curse he strove to conceal his purpose.
"I am glad I was in time," Sampei remarked, with cold composure. "Would the chief of our clan commit harakiri without a second? Where is he? I see no kaishaku. Pah! When all is lost 'tis time to think of dying. If you wish it, and have courage, things are not yet past remedy."
"What do you want?" snarled the Daimio, as with a scowl he retreated into a corner.
"My lord of Nara has arrived, and is now closeted with his daughter. Though you seem to have abdicated your dignities, it is right that you should be informed of it.
"Sent for by her?" inquired No-Kami.
"No!" replied Sampei bitterly. "With all your arrogant parade, she is more proud than you, and would never stoop to complain of your many cruelties."
"Sent for more like byhim!--snake in the grass!" gibed a voice behind, and the two brothers, turning, beheld the geisha, a frown puckering her brow, a red spot of annoyance on either cheek bone. "Yes, snake in the grass!" repeated she, lashed to imprudence by resentment. "He does well to play the part of the lady O'Tei's interpreter--he who knows her so much better than others!"
Sampei was silent, while the suspicious gaze of the Daimio was turned to his brother from the concubine.
"O fool!" she laughed. "To be fooled by women is the lot of the haughtiest among ye! I vow I pity such blindness. Know that the crust of a proud woman's nature often conceals a furnace. The lady O'Tei has kindled a fire on the altar of her heart in honour--well, not of you!"
"You lie!" cried the General, kindling, yet striving still to control himself forhersake. "It was an evil day for the house of Hojo when this strumpet came among us!"
"We are not all so blind as my lord," gibed O'Kikú. "When my lady goes forth, in what direction do the bearers carry her? To the temple of the vixen Masago, to offer up prayers, of course. A curious coincidence! My lord Sampei, returning from the chase, pays dutiful visits to his mother. A pattern son. There, there! be hoodwinked no more. Stupid mole that you are, he loves O'Tei and she loves him. Look in his face, man; is it not eloquent enough?"
The soul of No-Kami, already torn, writhed and quivered. Could it be true, this dreadful thing? Miné already ruined, a mere pretty peasant, a passing fancy, suitable toy enough--and now O'Tei! Had the lawless libertine dared to aspire to the legitimate wife of his lord? The dirk was still in the Daimio's grasp. Tottering forward a step, with heaving breast and distracted features, he narrowly scrutinised his brother.
"If I thought this was true," he slowly growled between his teeth, "I would have speedy and ample vengeance. Sampei, why do you look confused? Yonder, on the rack, is a sword!"
Again the mist of blood passed across the vision of the General. It was decreed. No-Kami rushed upon his fate. He himself pointed out the blade, lying so ready to the hand. A pass or two, and O'Tei, the long-suffering, would be freed from her grinding bondage. Involuntarily he stretched forth his arm, while No-Kami stood waiting. He touched the sword; his hand recoiled, his arm dropped by his side inert, for beyond the taunting visage of the geisha he seemed to behold, tearless and pale, the shadowy figure of O'Tei. No, this was a trap deliberately set by that wicked woman for her undoing and his. If, in the combat, it was his lot to fall, her fair fame would be for ever blasted. It would be skilfully bruited abroad by O'Kikú that the Daimio had avenged his honour. Forcing himself to calmness by strength of will, aided by an all-absorbing love, Sampei crossed his arms upon his labouring chest, and sadly shook his head.
"You are insane," he sighed,--"beguiled to frenzy by the glamour of this sorceress. You know, if you have power to think, that the dawn is no purer than your wife. What madness is it that has so mastered you that you would rather believe this harlot--for she is a harlot, and a shameless one, as every one in the castle knows except yourself? Rave as you will, I shall not gratify her spleen by fighting with you. Should the necessity be forced on me, I will summon the samurai to bind you, for your own protection. Cudgel your distempered brain, my brother, and see the snare. Your father was mine before you--unhappily--were born. The honour of our name is mine as well as yours, and for me it shall remain untarnished. Alas, we are under a ban, indeed! I can surety trace the finger of the Eternal; this harlot, the instrument of ruin."
Foiled spite and impotent rage leapt up and invaded the calculating spirit of the geisha. That he, so hot and careless usually, should be able to school himself to prudence. How he must adore that pale-face!
It was humiliating to one who justly prided herself on cunning, to be outwitted by truth and manhood. No doubt it was satisfactory to mark how firm was her hold upon No-Kami. He had hearkened to her accusation of his wife and brother, but the countercharge brought by the latter against herself had remained unnoticed. And yet Sampei had had the best of it. She was obliged to confess with self-upbraiding that, exasperated by the appearance of Nara, whose unexpected arrival seemed like to mar her plots and upset her calculations, she had been precipitate--led into a foolish error.
The moment chosen was curiously ill-timed for bringing about a quarrel. Not that she would have permitted blood to flow. Not so silly as that. At the first onset she would have rushed out with clamour and shrill cries to summon the sleepy attendants,--have sworn that Sampei had attacked his feudal lord,--have created such a coil as would have led to the former's banishment. But, devoted to the paleface, he had for her sake curbed his heat. Noble and severe in bearing, his dark brow seamed by battle scars, he was just the man to master a turbulent plebeian woman of strong passions. As he stood, erect and self-possessed, O'Kikú adored yet hated him. His scathing antipathy to her he did not care to mask, and who should know as well as she how well it was deserved. A man such as this might have wrought a miracle upon her nature. She could have hugged her gyves, glorying in his tyranny. Could have! He had repulsed her,--shrunk with loathing undisguised as from a reptile, and all for love of the pale-face. The dregs of her low nature bubbled to the surface in a rising surge of abhorrence. At this moment, as she contemplated his still dignity, she could have stabbed him to the heart with joy.
As schemes and combinations passed swiftly through her brain, the geisha hotly blamed herself. A short-sighted novice! An awkward bungler! The merest tyro could have warned her of the imprudence of airing family feuds before outsiders. What a moment this, when the powerful and astute noble of Nara was on the spot, to suggest charges against his heiress. Well, well, it was for the best that Sampei had kept his temper. The seed, dropped into the mind of No-Kami, would swell and burst and blossom by-and-by--the grain of suspicion which at a fitting season was to make of these brothers enemies. For the present it was best to drop the subject, to turn it off with a jest; then to make much of the illustrious visitor, and get rid of him as soon as possible.
O'Kikú, therefore, suddenly changed her tactics. With a careless laugh and a wave of shapely arms she swept aside the dangerous topic, and remarked: "Perhaps I was wrong,--too prone to believe evil. Your brother was before me with the news. The Daimio of Nara is here, and must be made welcome. If you will do him honour, I will see to the bestowing of his retinue. As you are her friend, Sampei--if really nothing more--I trust you will beg his daughter to refrain from telling lies of us." With this, awaiting no reply, she vanished, and, resuming the demureness of the past and assuming a meek and gracious air that befitted the position of the concubine, proceeded to charm the retainers of Nara as she had already conquered Hojo's.
What was he here for, this inconvenient guest? What could his object be in swooping down on Tsu? The question buzzed in her head as she moved hither and thither, on hospitality intent. He must know that he, was little welcome. Had the chatelaine been goaded at last out of her silence? Did the tiny pins at last lacerate her skin? Had she summoned her father to rescue her from a position that was unbearable?
What then? Would Nara, interfering on his child's behalf, insist upon the prompt suppression of the second wife? And if he did, would his mandate be obeyed, or was No-Kami still strong enough to do battle for his siren? The prestige of Japan's despot had not paled as yet, for the secret of his peculiar mental condition was well kept. Such precautions had been taken that, though many knew the Daimio to be ill, none but O'Kikú and Sampei were aware of his critical state. Had Sampei, pursuing a tortuous game of his own, summoned Nara to council? The traitor! And what a simpleton she not to have foreseen and parried such a stroke. Nara present and siding with Sampei--made aware of No-Kami's weakness--what easier for the twain than to seize the reins and fling forth the offending concubine? Again was O'Kikú compelled to admit with tingling cheeks how unskilfully she had developed plans which at the start had seemed so promising. By pandering to his fears, and plying my lord with drink, she gained no doubt a measure of extra liberty, but purchased at what a cost! At a time when every man's hand was at his neighbour's throat, to lose your nerve was to lose respect and be toppled over in the fray. Execrated as she knew my lord to be, with myriad and lynx eyes watching for a cranny in his armour, why had she not foreseen that there would be traitors in the camp? O'Kikú had been so careless because she reckoned on her rival's unpopularity. Not a swaggerer among the samurai--as she had long since learned--but looked on his liege mistress with uncomprehending pity. To think that bluff, single-minded Sampei--so skilful in the field, so blundering at home--should have had the inspiration to summon Nara! But had he? Sure his surprise on the arrival of the cavalcade was not feigned? If it were, then was he a dangerous enemy indeed--concealing consummate craft under an appearance of simplicity.
The more O'Kikú pondered and considered, the more nebulous grew the result of her meditations, and on the morrow she was brought to the highest stage of bewilderment by the departure of the Daimio of Nara as abruptly as he had arrived, and in a friendly manner too. Gazing through the hole made by a wetted finger in her paper-covered casement, she had striven to read on the faces of those concerned the result of their interview: and her jaw dropped in sheer amazement. Was the lady O'Tei even more mean-spirited and craven than her rival had supposed? Fearful of retribution and ill-usage in the future, had she masked her wounds from her parent, vowing she was well and happy, when her very looks should betray the truth? In that case, neither she nor her paramour had summoned Nara. Why then was he come? Could it have been of his own accord, so speedily to go away, with no result from his advent? The more she considered, the more knotty did the problem grow--one that her low instincts could never fathom. She wist not that a proud nature, instead of crying out with shrill uproar, will conceal stabs dealt in private by her legitimate lord from the scrutiny even of a father; the more when her parent bears only the name, since he has never won her love.
How surprised would the geisha have been could she have read the riddle aright. It was Masago, the Abbess, who had given the hint. She, who was but too well aware of the position of her favourite, could see that she was dying slowly of a breaking heart, for each time that she visited the temple O'Tei was more frail and wan, more spiritual in aspect; her step more slow and feeble. Moreover, over and above personal affection for her, was it not the duty of the Abbess to give warning to the lady's natural protector, lest her own dear boy Sampei should be goaded to leap into the breach? Knowing all she knew, it was a subject for marvel that Sampei should have refrained till now. School himself as he would, he could not conceal from a mother's anxious gaze the canker that gnawed his entrails. So far as he was concerned, the arrows of O'Kikú had not missed their mark. He pined with sympathy,--was wrung with anguish at the drawn expression of the wistful face, the dimmed eyes that were once so bright, in which hope was quite extinguished.