What a pity it is that in our odd world the wicked should be so much more clever than the good,--that the combinations of sinners should so easily outwit the simply virtuous. But then, were not the good so naïve, they might not possibly submit so quietly to the unhappiness which is usually their portion. They might scream, and rail, and wax obstreperous, point out the cases of flagrant injustice too often to be observed among their ranks, and become unedifying texts and examples.
Poor Sampei, being less cunning than the geisha, and not perceiving the advantage of which he might have availed himself, naturally did not seize it. It never occurred to him that the appearance of Nara on the scene might have brought about the salvation of his family,--that he and Sampei united might have ousted the female marplot. Clearly this lack of discrimination was due to the interference of the gods.
Sampei was quite as surprised as the concubine at singular conduct of Nara. He took no umbrage at his sullen reception by the lord of Tsu; seemed not to perceive how little he was welcomed; showed a disposition to be easily pleased, a slowness to take offence, such as ill became a daimio. Closeted with his daughter, he refrained from searching questions, conversed about the pleasures of Kiŷoto, and the probabilities of a visit in the summer, while she, stony and indifferent, as reticent as her parent, and dreamily gazing into vacancy, replied in monosyllables. With studied ceremony he took leave of her as though she were a stranger, bade farewell of his sulky host with suave courtesy, and, followed by his brilliant retinue, journeyed slowly up into the mountains. So cautious was he, even under the glances of his own people, that it was not until, resigning his horse to a betto, he retired into a litter, and drew the curtains close, that he permitted his thoughts to appear upon his features. "It is very nearly time," he murmured, "very nearly time, and then shall my child--ay, and all Japan--be avenged, and signally." With gleeful exultation he rubbed his hands together as he revolved a host of little points which had not escaped the eagle ken of his experience. A drunken dissolute cohort now, the redoubtable warriors of Tsu.
Arriving unawares by night, he had found no sentries at the gate. His men had blown the horn, and hammered with lances, and shouted till their throats were hoarse, ere any one had appeared upon the walls; and what a scurry then! The castle, left unprotected in the silent watches, would have fallen without a struggle into the hands of a skilful foe. And--the cognisance and titles of the father of the chatelaine having been recognised, and the drawbridge lowered--the relaxation of discipline everywhere apparent within did not escape his practised eye. Before the presence of a stranger was made known, he had heard sounds of wassail and of quarrelling,--had seen the abandoned concubine of the Hojo toying with the common soldiers. And he was enchanted. What mattered it that his child looked wretched?--women must suffer for the common good. Patience--a little patience--and her burthen would soon be removed.
The Abbess, proud as she was of considering herself in some sort a Hojo, had naturally turned, in her anxiety, to him who had been selected by her now departed lord as the prime adviser of the family. Unwitting of what she did, it was her finger that first pointed out how the joints in the harness were loosening; and with a savage laugh Nara gave her thanks for it.
The young General, who had never learned the arts of diplomacy, blushed crimson as the eyes of the new arrival took in the situation, and stammered awkward excuses. His brother was ill, had for some time past been unable to occupy himself with affairs, and was, moreover, so jealous of interference, that for a while he, the elder, had let things go. But now that my lord had come, his father's friend, the twain would remonstrate, and arrange together. And then, from under the white bettle-brows of the old man there shot a meaning leer which chilled the words upon the lips of the younger, and brought to his mind an earlier interview which had seemed ominous of complications. Was this man a friend, or the worst of enemies, one who wears disguise? Buffeting in a sea of knavery, wherein fraud and chicane and stratagem and pitfall boil into a seething broth, what wonder if the true and single-minded grow bewildered and confused? Sampei was so little skilled in double-dealing, that, lulled by specious sentences, mystified, he concluded that he had been wrong, had misunderstood the purport of lord Nara's talk in the palace. Was he not his father's ally,--the man specially picked out for the guidance of the Hojo's sons? The old Daimio, ever quick to read thoughts, pressed the hand of his young friend with touching affection.
"All will be well by-and-by," he murmured. His dear young General, of whom he and Japan were so justly proud, must sit quiet, and hope for the best. He too, then, was preaching patience. Sure, the venerable Abbess and the hoary statesman must be right--of course they were. The loyal Sampei blamed himself accordingly, and put his suspicions from him.
Although no open confidences passed between the pair, Nara was satisfied, for he could detect a change in the young man. His easy confidence in the direction of the straight and honest course was gone, had given place to a pained perplexity which boded well for the future. The arrow which the astute kugé had planted during the interview at the palace, was festering. He seemed to perceive that much. Sampei's sense of right and wrong had been disturbed. He was uncomfortable, and half-suspecting he knew not what, held his peace moodily, while his brain groped in darksome byways. Yes, he was mistaken when he deemed Nara to be a foe. Yet how was it possible he could be really friendly, perceiving as he must how bad was his daughter's treatment, how outrageous on every count were the proceedings of her spouse? Could any one who loved Japan be Hojo's friend? Alack, even he, Sampei, his only brother, was but too well aware that he was his country's scourge--that one who should remove the incubus would earn his country's gratitude.
The old Daimio, guessing what knotty problem it was that so vexed the young soldier's mind, evolved a stroke of genius. Suave and sweet in manner, with an engaging air of candour, he communed with himself aloud, "What a sad thing it is," he mused abstractedly, "that the history and the literature of our country should so teem with the enmity of brothers! And yet, in the main, a happy land, more privileged than the dim fog-bound realms of the west." Again, how bewildering was this to one who was groping so anxiously for light.
Looking in the wrinkled face, Sampei could see no meaning there--no special meaning--addressed to himself especially. And then, as the two strolled about the precincts of the castle, Sampei became more bewildered yet and more uneasy, for in some unaccountable way it had come about, without his knowing how, that old Nara concealed no longer that he was No-Kami's enemy, that he was aware of the ill-treatment of his child, and grateful for the sympathy of his companion. He even, as a matter of course, affected to look on him as a willing accomplice; gave him no chance of disavowal. And then, tacit consent to this being given, he dropped mysterious hints. Verily the future was growing strangely dark, the skein of the race more tangled hourly. With helpless resignation Sampei was fain to allow that the fiat had gone forth, that the days of the Hojos were numbered. If, as was growing every moment plainer, the prophecy of the farmer was to be fulfilled to the minutest detail, what was to be gained by struggling?
Patience was in very truth the only virtue which it became the doomed to cultivate. Humbled, therefore, and filled with murky presage, the young man bowed his neck and folded his hands, resolved to float with the stream, obedient to the whim of destiny.
Thus Nara--kugé and devoted servant of the Holy Mikado--having been warned by the Abbess of Tsu of the tottering condition of her house, came and spied out the land, and returned home delighted; while she, hearing in due course how he had come and gone, smiling and dangerously courteous, fell a prey to vague misgivings, and betook herself to prayer and abstinence. Vainly she cross-examined O'Tei, grown stonier and whiter. Since her father's unsatisfactory visit, the unhappy lady appeared to wake from a frozen trance to a sense of feverish existence, only when prostrate on the temple floor praying for the untying of her bonds. The words of Koshiu were seared as by an iron on her heart; sleeping or waking, she saw them burning on the wall.
The scene within the grey circle of weird trees was never absent from her vision. What had she done to deserve the ban? The full horror of the anathema ate into her being slowly. In succeeding cycles she was destined to be accursed. Little by little she realised her doom; for her there was to be no rest, no peace, no change for the better. Why? Because, obedient to her father's commands, she had bestowed her hand upon a tyrant. For blind obedience, punished for all time; for more than time--for ever!
There was no justice, then, in this life, or in the realms beyond the grave. She was created for misfortune and misery, specially picked out for all the worst evils that beset mortality. If accursed in future cycles, she might never rise,--never win Nirvana,--never hope for oblivion. The unflecked blackness of the despair that settled down like a foldless sable curtain upon O'Tei, caused the heart of Masago to bleed for her. The gentlest, noblest, most patient, as well as the most innocent of ladies! Truly the ways of the Eternal are inscrutable. The austere Abbess strove to instil comfort into the numbed soul--without avail. Her arguments, after all, were shallowest platitudes, to be tossed aside by O'Tei with easy scorn. What to her were the puny arts of O'Kikú the second wife? Shielded by the buckler of such suffering as hers, the tiny pins of the geisha fell harmless. Pity that 'twas so, for wholesome indignation might have wakened her from the stupor which, unless broken, must shortly end in dissolution.
Pondering as she paced the silent groves, the Abbess sought for a clue in vain. If the family was doomed to be smitten root and branch, it was doomed. But what a store of faith is needed humbly to acquiesce in the monstrous belief that the innocent must suffer for the guilty,--that generations yet unborn are to come into the world for the express purpose of bearing on their backs the guilt of their ancestors. With terror Masago felt that she was growing rebellious,--that her faith was trembling,--that she could no longer gaze with trustful veneration upon Buddha, the expressionless and the impassible, reposing cross-legged on his lotus. Herself, O'Tei, the dearly-loved Sampei, were all to suffer for No-Kami. Sure Tomoyé must be writhing on some other sphere for being the mother of such a cockatrice! And so it naturally came about that Masago, as well as others, looked forward to the sacrificing of Hojo--the chief to whom they owed allegiance,--of the head of the family of which she was proud to be one,--that she even prayed for the death of No-Kami as the only possible solution of the problem.
O'Kikú was not above profiting by the lesson which had been taught by Nara's visit. Instead of being permitted to subside into hopeless imbecility, her lord must be aroused,--must be exhorted to tighten the cords of his nervous system, in preparation for a sudden strain. Accordingly, after a period of wonder at Nara's visit and its apparent abortiveness, she began to suspect that, courteous as his manner was, and suavely ceremonious his departure, they had not yet heard the last of the kugé's irruption; and that it behoved her, as the guiding spirit of the castle, to practise caution. That snake, Sampei, was wriggling in the grass in inconvenient proximity, darting glances of adoration at the chatelaine. For the dignity of her dear lord's name (and her own future comfort), she must accentuate and renew her exposure of the villain and his paramour, now that the coast was clear. To this end, in order that vengeance might be tempered withsang froid, their deluded victim must be taught to mingle vigilance with circumspection, which would require a measure of sobriety. It would be vexatious to have to resign a modicum of personal liberty, but the sacking of the castle by a watchful enemy, who knew of its master's sottishness, would be a worse evil. It behoved her for her own sake to protect my lord from the enemy within the citadel. Arguing from her own ways of thought, it was a logical deduction that, in love with No-Kami's wife, Sampei must desire his death.
The geisha, adapting herself to the circumstances of the moment, became outwardly more circumspect in her behaviour; watched over her lord with affectionate care; exhorted and chid him with tender patience till his paroxysms of fear were past; made herself so absolutely needful to his existence, that he could not but fondly mark the contrast betwixt her and his legitimate consort. And she was not slow in administering the deadly drops when occasion served. What should the lady O'Tei care? she would babble artlessly, that her lord was well or ill, since her affections were engrossed by another, who all along had possessed her heart. The silent twilight of cryptomeria groves is conducive to holy meditation, but is also vastly convenient for mundane dallying. But no! he must not excite himself. Why should my lord exercise his shattered nerves, and pace like a caged bear? What mattered it what they did, or how frequently they met? For her part, his faithful O'Kikú thought it very diverting that any warm-blooded man should elect to fall in love with an icicle.
No-Kami hearkened, and although his reason rejected the geisha's hints, they set him pondering. Of O'Tei's character he had never seen any side, after the first few days, but the cold, repellent one, made more obnoxious sometimes by that lack of proper pride, which to his nostrils was as an evil savour. His brother was also a riddle; as a soldier brave to a fault, in other concerns hesitating, even timid, beset with petty scruples incomprehensible to the broader views of his feudal master. At the bottom of his heart he was afraid of his first wife, and disliked his brother, who, instinct whispered, was more worthy than himself. But to suspect those two of love passages! O'Kikú, unable to read correctly the characters of either, was led astray by over anxiety on his behalf. And yet, what if she were right?
That dreadful curse that was ringing ever in his ears. Was this one of the ways in which he was to be stricken? Was he to be held up by wife and brother as a laughing-stock in the eyes of his assembled warriors? He had been weak, unnerved; had groaned and grovelled, forgetting his name and lineage; had all but been lured to submit to degradation that night among the enchanted trees. He would battle with the phantoms now, like a true son of his father and Tomoyé--would conquer, by force of indomitable will, even the goblins that pursued him. Rising up, and girding his loins, thankful that the samurai had never beheld his throes of terror, he appeared once more in the hall, overbearing and stern and firm of step--as fierce and harsh as heretofore, if haggard and ashen of hue.
Sampei marked the change with approval; for the idea that the head of the house was to turn coward seemed the most grievous of possibilities in connection with the martyr's curse. At this juncture an event occurred which added yet further to his relief. The lord of Tsu was summoned, by sudden mandate of the Mikado, and was ordered to present himself in the sacred precincts of Kiŷoto without delay, accompanied by a small following. This order, publicly given, he must perforce obey, and, removed from the bad influence of the favourite, there was no knowing what happy turn might follow. Though polygamy was a recognised institution, it was not etiquette for any other than the first wife to hold communion with the ladies of the imperial court.
The peremptory nature of the summons surprised and offended the lord of Tsu. Old Nara, doubtless, had perceived how unstrung he was, had whispered to the silly babbling kugés and their infatuated head that the lion was toothless, that the poison-bag of the serpent was removed. A sense of their mistake, and the speedy discomfiture of the feeble gang, acted on the system of the despot like a dash of fresh salt brine. He laughed aloud, as, detaching the clinging arm of the siren from about his neck, he leapt lightly on Typhoon, his war-horse. The day was crisp and brightly cold--exhilarating--the sky cloudless, as he galloped towards the hills. In the frosty reviving air of the mountains the vengeful shades were exorcised; Koshiu and Kennui and their baleful family lingered behind in the plains, and stretch forth in vain their talons. The ghosts faded into thin vapour--nightmare was shaken off--No-Kami felt ten years younger than yesterday. A fig for the farmer and his curse! The tyrant of Japan must have been sick indeed to have shivered under a peasant's puling!
Of a surety a signal change had come over my lord. Peradventure there was to be an alteration in the mind as well as the body--greater miracles have come to pass. So mused Sampei--strangely relieved--while he watched the knot of horsemen as they wound upwards and over the sky-line. The gods grant it! O'Kikú also mused as she stood watching. My lord was better--that was a comfort,--would prove to the trembling courtiers that they had reckoned wrongly. She had a secret for him on his return which should bind him yet closer to her. Meanwhile she could enjoy a time of absolute freedom, give vent to her proclivities, whilst narrowly watching the young General and his love, and weaving the web of her intrigues.
The little cavalcade sped swiftly on, for the frost-bound roads were pleasant travelling, and towards evening a dim mass appeared on the horizon, which presaged a fall of snow. It behoved the Daimio and his escort to ascend the wild and rugged pass, and seek the sheltered plains, before the coming of the storm.
Yes, No-Kami was himself again. The eyes, like burning coals, no longer glared at him. The good horse Typhoon, idle too long, chafed under the bit, buffeted with his lord for mastery. A distempered dream, no more, one that was past and gone. Light of heart and jovially inclined, he gratified his taste for cruelty by lashing his steed into a fever. Even he, the horse, was aware how sick he had been--was mutinous and restive--needed a sharp lesson. The samurai, he remarked, were more familiar than of yore. There was a shade less of submission in their manner. One went so far as to bandy a broad jest, putting forth lips too close to his master's ear, upon which he received a smart blow upon the cheek, as a hint to keep his distance.
Their lord was himself again, and the warriors were glad. That he should be fooled by a wanton to their benefit was amusing for a while, but with satiety rose a feeling of disgust. The fascinating geisha's heart had room for too many occupants, and the warriors began to reflect some while since that, by betraying their lord in their society, she was shaming the house they served. As the charm of novelty waned, they began to see her as she was. Removed from the range of O'Kikú's orbs, the more sober among then grieved about that second marriage. As a dancing-girl--a passing fancy--O'Kikú was all that could be desired--but as a permanent second wife?--no. On the whole, even the mawkish chatelaine was less grievous as a mistress. Her sins were of omission only. Never by word or look had she disgraced the name she bore. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the concubine.
My lord was himself again, and, being so, was desperately tetchy. This was untoward. Otherwise, a wary hint might have been thrown out by the trusted and war-beaten officer who rode beside him as to the reckless proceedings of his favourite. In the present condition of his temper, interference might produce explosion. Well, time is the best guide. If detained at Kiŷoto, he might see some one he liked better, and forget O'Kikú, and then she could be relegated to a convent as lumber is removed to a godown.
The samurai were in high spirits, and noisy withal, and the Daimio observed with displeasing the effect of discipline relaxed. So soon as he returned home he would set his castle in order, he resolved,--suppress undue lawlessness,--check familiarity. When he returned? Would the nightmare crush him again--numbing his limbs, breaking his spirit? Surely not. Why should he ever return? Was he not lord of other castles? Could he not appropriate at will, with the strong hand of might, any stronghold that should take his fancy? Tsu could be left to O'Tei and to the goblins. Henceforth it was a hateful spot, recalling humiliation and pain. And then he mused about O'Kikú--entrancing little fairy! A pity she was unreasonably jealous, for all those stories about his wife and his brother were too absurd to be believed. Yet were they? What, after all, if the concubine were right, and Sampei's air of offended dignity a piece of clever masquerading? Had he, the chief, not seemed to detect something like commiseration on the bronzed features of his warriors? Why should they pity him? Perhaps they knew too well that, behind his back, his wife and brother held clandestine meetings. Of course, this must be it. Scales fell from his eyes, and he trembled with passion. His first wife was deceiving him, and with his brother! Hence their waning respect and covert pity. And, fool that he was, he had left the two together. Grinding his teeth, he twitched the rein so sharply that Typhoon, beflecked with foam, fell back upon his haunches. And then, in fitful mood, he laughed again. To Kiŷoto first to tie up loosened strands, then back to Tsu with furtive speed! He would swoop upon both the guilty ones, catch them off their guard, and make of them an example for all time.
The peasants, scared out of their wits by the truculent bearing of the soldiery, betook them to the woods, and lurked in hiding till the enemy had passed. At the top of the mountain, just where the way is level, before dipping down through a thicket of wind-tossed pines, there stood a modest tea-house where my lord was wont to sleep on his journeys between his castle and the capital. Here he resolved to stop as usual, and, after bathing, enjoy his dinner. The landlord and his daughters came smiling forth, and, clapping palms upon their thighs, knelt down and rapped foreheads on the floor. My lord was paler than his wont, observed mine host, with profuse sighing; and thin, which tore in twain the hearts of his loyal vassals; indeed they had heard that he was grievously sick--almost unto death. Had not my lord of Nara gone by recently and brought the evil tidings! One and all had wept, and offered prayers for his recovery. But my lord was young, and would speedily recover, thanks to the elasticity of youth. And so on, with many genuflections and drawings in of the breath; sibillations, and head-rappings; while No-Kami's face grew purple, and he growled a string of curses.
Nara dared--the insolent dotard!--he dared to spread reports among the people to the detriment of him, the Hojo! Sick unto death, forsooth! He burned to continue his journey forthwith, that the old schemer might be swiftly punished. Hark! What was that? A clatter of hoofs on the hard road. A betto, breathless, wearing the badge of Tsu. What had chanced? Not an accident to the fair O'Kikú? Anything but that. The anxiety of No-Kami caused the warriors to glance with grim meaning from one to another, and shake their heads. How infatuated was their lord with that brazen hussy! A lacquer box, bound with a red cord, containing a roll--a letter scrawled by the dear one. The darling faithful fairy was pining in the absence of her love! Retiring to the inner chamber, with its fine white mats, and gold ceiling painted with many fans, he proceeded to peruse the scroll. "He must not be angry with his little slave in that she perforce must write to him." (Angry! and with her? At home he might have snarled, but now time and distance were between them.) "She was not so well-disciplined, springing from the warm-hearted people, as my lady, the chill chatelaine." (No, in sooth! O'Tei would be long ere she despatched love-missives to her husband.) "She was silly enough to adore my lord so well that each moment out of his company was like a dagger-stab; and yet,she had comfort in his absence!"
Here was a mystery concerning which he must not be jealous, since the comfort of which she spoke would affect him as well as her. My lord must give way before her whim, and be patient, or if not patient, must hasten home the sooner, that the grand secret of joy might be divulged. Softened, he laid the paper down. He must be a brute indeed who hath not a tender spot in his ruggedness for one who so unselfishly adored! The guileless, silly child! What was the grand secret that was to be the harbinger of doubly-concentrated bliss? Stay! there was a postscript to the letter, and the Hojo scrunched its frail tissue in his palm. Under the green leaf lies the scorpion. "Since my lord went they are at ease, and the Abbess a shameless pander!" That was all, but it was enough to remove the sweetness from the rest,--the one drop of gall that could turn a whole dish sour.
At ease, were they! Not for long--not for long! Squatting on the mat, with a futon, or wadded quilt, about his shoulders, and his cold hands spread over the hibachi, where charcoal ashes distributed a mockery of warmth, No-Kami quivered now in every racked sinew. Did everybody unite to beard him? He was fallen so low as that! The prestige due to wholesome fear was paling. He had been too lenient. That pageant had somehow been a failure. Only just in time had he recovered from his illness. It was time to turn over a new leaf and coerce the rebellious and unruly with an increase of severity. A plague on the noisy soldiery! They were as insolent as all the rest. The world was out of gear. What hideous din was that in the outer chamber? Springing to his feet, the Daimio flung back in their grooves the paper-covered doors, and in a voice of thunder demanded the cause of the uproar. A disgraceful scene, in truth! The landlord, but now so smiling and obsequious, was tied and gagged. So were the plump girls, his daughters, whose bosoms heaved with terror-stricken sobs, while tears coursed down their cheeks, and their locks, though plastered thick with oil, were bereft of pins and ornaments.
What was the meaning of this? stammered their outraged lord, so soon as indignation permitted of speech. Sure they must be out of their senses! He had borne with their impudence upon the road,--their offensive, rollicking gait and vulgar swagger; but now they had gone too far, and should feel the weight of his displeasure. Were they samurai--faithful and obedient henchmen--or ronins--bandits? There had been more than enough quarrelling of late between the soldiers and the lower class. Landlord and maidens must be instantly released with full apologies, with substantial damages in the future, which should be extorted from the pay of the truculent and peccant braves.
The Hojo was awful in his indignation--a whirlwind! Sure the thunder-god looked like this while deafening with his gongs the firmament. The girls were set free with tardy sullenness, and cowered together, trembling; but the man who menaced the landlord clutched him still, with the point of a dirk at his throat, while he who was in command approached his lord with extreme humility, begging to be permitted to explain.
"We were toying with the maidens," he bluntly urged--"surely an appropriate amusement for soldiers--when one, too roughly pinched, perhaps, turned on the aggressor with a jibe. 'Take heed,' she shrieked, in shrill resentment at that which was only gallantry, 'lest you strutting fowls get your fine feathers clipped!' She would have said more, but her sire, in fear, clapped a hand upon her mouth, exhorting her to prudence. She had betrayed herself--uttered a dark threat, whose meaning it became us to learn. With the steel at his throat the man had made confession--and a pretty coil it was! The clans are gathering, he says; silently, by detachments, in the mountains, ready, at given signal to fall unawares upon my lord. That was why the Daimio of Nara deigned to visit us. He came to reconnoitre the ground, to see if we were prepared and vigilant. While we reposed in false security (this varlet hath confessed) the hostile daimios have been summoning their men, have enrolled in their service paid auxiliaries; disbanded, wandering ronins; soldiers of fortune, ruffians. And this, as it seems (though one can scarce believe it), with the tacit consent both of the Holy Mikado and of the Shogun at Kamakura. This summons to Kiŷoto is a snare, detected luckily in time. May it please my lord--pardoning the arrogance of his poor servant in advising--to take horse at once, and, riding quickly home prepare for danger. Finding their plot discovered, they will follow, striving, by myriads like locusts, to undo us. But the walls of Tsu are strong. Behind them we may laugh, secure."
Having made this long oration, the chief of the samurai bent down, touched with his lips the hem of my lord's hanging girdle, and then rising, with bowed neck awaited orders. A discovery indeed! When closeted with his child the crafty Nara had doubtless explained the plot, had held out the hope of freedom to the prisoner; and she, as consummate in dissimulation as her parent, had seen without a quiver of an eyelid her husband riding to his death. Perhaps Sampei knew also of it--of course he did. Ambitious for himself, a willing tool of Nara's! Faithless traitors all! O'Kikú was the only true one!
His brows knitted in deep concern, the Daimio waved his hand, and retired for a while to think. The suddenly-opened chasm that yawned before his feet completed the recovery of No-Kami. His wife, his brother, false. That was evident now. The adviser selected by his parent convicted of treason. Incensed Japan ready to rise as one to shake off a weakened despot. Nobody but himself to trust to; no arm but his own to succour him. Return with all speed to Tsu, and place that impregnable stronghold in a condition to endure a siege? Prudent advice enough; but what if the hovering ghosts should on his re-entrance there claim and clutch him for their own. Then would he be undone indeed. But the ghosts had ceased to worry. No-Kami thrilled with glee as he realised the imminence of his peril. How mistaken in their estimate they were of him who held them leashed. What! Catch a Hojo like a rat in a trap? Not they. Not all the united prowess of Japan should succeed in doing it, provided goblins were kept aloof from the contest. Return at once to Tsu. No! 'Twould be a sign of weakness. Instead of retiring, it behoved him to assume the offensive. He would invade the Mikado, as he had often done before, and cow with his scowl alone the poor timid array of hares. By the prestige of his name and the uncompromising power of his will he had held his own since the demise of his father and Tomoyé. It is a mistake for a despot to hide his frown too long. The past should be retrieved by a blow so heavy and unexpected that the hares, quaking with apprehension, would scuttle off without a sound.
Striding forth again from retirement, No-Kami issued orders so prompt and to the purpose that there was no gainsaying them.
The betto was to return to Tsu at the top of his speed, with private instructions to the officers as to increased watchfulness. This scroll he would deliver to Sampei, and instruct him, at the peril of his life without delay to join his brother at the capital. The letter was so sternly worded that he would perceive he had been betrayed,--that the head of his clan was aware of his perfidy, and he would accordingly throw up the game, confess, and sue for mercy.
The Daimio himself and his following would, after a few hours of repose, push on to Kiŷoto. The rice of the men consumed, the horses fed, and a cup of saké all round, and then, away!
The landlord and his daughter; what of them?
The miserable peasant was quaking on the mat, groaning and wringing hands with incoherent supplications, deeply distressed in mind to think that through the blabbing of him and his the tyrant should have received timely warning.
To all posterity would their names go branded down, since but for their folly the bonds of their land would have been loosened. The girls, beside themselves with fear, crawled on hands and knees, imploring clemency.
Folding his arms, No-Kami looked down upon the supplicants, while his features were contracted by a spasm that might pass for a malignant grin.
"What of these?" he glowered. "Slash the father's throat; 'tis given to garrulity and chattering. The girls? Serve them as you will. What have I to do with vermin?"
Since the return of Nara from his mysterious excursion, the interior of the sad prison-house of the Mikado was quite lively. The kneeling kugés chirruped like birds; their tall black headdresses waved and nodded like sable plumes in the wind. Excitement being contagious, the un-elect, who might not step within the sacred halls, laughed too and gabbled on the outer verandahs, showing their white teeth, and gossiping hopefully. They wist not why they were so light of heart; but if the privileged denizens of the lugubrious dwelling, usually so glum, were gay, it meant that the Holy Mikado was well pleased; and if the Fountain of Honour was content, it was clearly the duty of them, his lowly faithful ones, to vie one with another in sympathy.
After that terrible interview when he was publicly insulted before his court, the miserable Mikado retired into darkness, declining to emerge or to be comforted. He vowed that the three deposed Emperors who were mumbling prayers in remote monasteries were far better off than he, for they at any rate were left in peace, so long as they submitted quietly, and were pitied as well as loved by the Empire. The actual Emperor, so long as he seemed to reign, was held responsible for what was done, and he, unfortunately for himself, was of a conscientious turn of mind. The peasant man who, alas, too trusting, had confided himself to the safe keeping of the Holy One, had been torn from sanctuary, ignominiously executed, together with his innocent family, and the Fountain of Honour was aware that in the eyes of the people he must be a willing accomplice, or else the meanest of puppets. His conscience was torn by pincers. He ought somehow to have saved that family. Humiliation and shame gnawed into his vitals, as rusty gyves into the wrists. No slavery, he declared, while he crouched in his dark chamber, with drops of sweat upon his brow, could possibly be worse than his. A change of masters, if master he must have, would be for the better, since his plight could not be altered for the worse. Not the lowest coolie,--the meanest Eta in his dominions, was of less account than he. If all these chattering kugés, who prostrated themselves so humbly, drawing in breath like humming insects, professing profound devotion, would only do something practical, then would he, the Fountain, sparkle with gratitude, and profusely distribute benedictions.
Nara was a provoking person. Wise as an owl in aspect, his wisdom was much an imposture as that of the sapient bird. As usual he exhorted to patience, droned platitudes through his nose. The friends of that much-tried individual on a dunghill, whom Christians had been heard to prate about, were no more exasperating. When the octopus holds you with his tentacles in fell embrace, you must summon all your strength in a supreme effort to tear him piecemeal. A series of small struggles are mere waste of tissue. The Hojo, as all within the holy prison house were painfully aware, was a portentous octopus, more awful than any of the forbidding monsters, with arms of five feet and more, that are to be seen any day in the fish-market.
Those who would measure lances with him must be cautious--very cautious. Perhaps, looking back on history, the Fountain might remember Yoriiyé, son of Yoritomo the Great, who, banished to the temple of Idzu, was compelled to shave off his hair. Objecting, he rebelled, and, to the general dismay, was found strangled one morning in his bath. The present Fountain was young and impetuous, a boy, and ignorant, and must learn to smile and wait--to smile and smile--andstrike!That he should have resolved on a change at any cost, was well. His trusty lords would beat about and see what was to be done. Doth not the ratcatcher's cat hide her claws?--to serve her end perform miracles? With the stirring of the wind the heron rises from the stream. A little faith, and patience.
It was fortunate for the conspirators, headed by Nara, that after his deplorable exhibition of cruelty at Tsu the tyrant should remain quiescent. The snake, for the moment gorged, was comatose. Taking advantage of his absence and inaction, the Daimio of Nara threw his spies broadcast over the land--sent letters to absent magnates inviting them to unite and march for the emancipation of their lord from serfdom. He even sent privately to the Shogun at Kamakura, declaring that if any one was despot in future it should be he, since, by virtue of his post, he was the first General of the Empire, the legitimate leader of her armies. If the Hojo had been at Kiŷoto, and awake, these proceedings would have been at once detected, and crushed with an iron hand. Why was he so quiet in his distant castle?
When the message from Masago arrived, declaring that the Daimio of Tsu was sinking into lowest debauchery, willing victim of a harlot, Nara thanked the gods, and rushed to his imperial master. The other item in the communication--concerning the position of his own daughter--was a trifle. She also must practise patience. She would be amply avenged for present torment at the same time as the Holy Mikado. Was not this grand news, well worth a little waiting--a little suffering? Had he not been right--he, the hoary one, the sage, the experienced, the prudent? They had waited, and the moment was at hand. In exultant joy he flung himself headlong on the mat, and embraced his master's feet.
Of course the latter was glad that evil should befall his tyrant; but Nara was always more glib with tongue than sword. A little patience, quotha. For patience the times were out of joint. A little action now. Answers arrived from east and west, from north and south--some bellicose and ardent, some timid and time-serving. The Fountain of Honour deigned to come out of darkness like a snail out of its shell; but as he lay supported on his hand in the centre of the floor, his mien was so troubled, his young brow so puckered and scowling, that the kugés squatting around in a circle sat wistful, with heads on one side--motionless. For hours and hours he remained as inanimate as they--lost in gloomy thoughts and dumb abstraction. The prospect was too halcyon. The tyrant, firm in the toils of a low woman, might become sodden and besotted. What of the other--no less than he a Hojo--the idol of the army, bravest of the brave? The soul of loyalty (or his face belied him), he would stand by his brother, a tower of strength in an emergency.
Plausible and garrulous and self-deceiving as old men are wont to be, Nara had been quite wrong in his estimate of General Sampei. He, the General, had appeared distressed at the proceedings of his feudal superior. And yet could it be denied that he had calmly attended and approved that shocking massacre,--had stood by with hands before him while infants were slaughtered,--had remained on the premises ever since, perfectly composed and comfortable? His face was a lying mask then. He was as bad, every bit, as his brother,--as much to be feared and hated; for since it was clear that he approved his acts, he would, of course, stand by him to the death.
Nara rubbed his chin, and whilst confessing that that much of the problem was at present not quite so clear as was desirable, stoutly declared that if the distant chiefs could succeed in quietly gathering their adherents, and, unsuspected, mass them within distance of the capital the desired end would be attained, Sampei or no Sampei. The Hojo must be lulled in false security, and awake to a sense of danger only in time to perish. In order to reconnoitre the ground, he, the veteran, would stir his old bones and pay a visit to his son-in-law. There would be naught in this to raise suspicion, for what could be more natural than that a fond parent should make a pilgrimage to visit his only child?
He went, as we have seen, and in due course returned, so jubilant and radiant that even his glum master perforce believed in him. Their prayers were heard. The gods were sick of tyranny. The despot, blindfold, was marching to his fate. His foot was on the edge of the abyss. As the Fountain of Honour in his inspired wisdom had pointed out, Sampei was loyal to his chief, so far, but he was evidently full of disgust, uncertain what he ought to do, harried and worried, wretched. The citadel was more than half undermined already. He, the brilliant general, soldier to his finger nails, moved in a centre of undisciplined debauchery; listess, unshocked, uninterested. Why, a handful of ronins could take and sack in a trice the castle once deemed impregnable! The guards were wrapped in drunken sleep, the sentinels, absent from their posts, were engaged in uproarious wassail Not a peasant for miles around but would hail with joyous relief the advent of a new master; not a farmer or artizan but, with full faith in Koshiu's dying words, would look on No-Kami's downfall as retribution heaven-born. Nothing would be easier than, guided by peasants, to march trusty troops by night through the mountain defiles and take the castle by surprise. Sampei, half-hearted as he was, and preternaturally listless, would acquiesce in the inevitable (would be only too glad to do so), and, his brother slain--no longer tied by fealty--would appear in his true colours. In the absence of their hereditary chief, the braves of Tsu would lose their heads, throw down their arms. For the stronghold must fall in the absence of the Hojo, or the prestige that hung around his dignity might save him after all. Just see how cautiously and well-prepared were the plans of the veteran counsellor. Hojo must be summoned to Kiŷoto on some business; then sent back with a reproof, to fall into a skilfully-set trap. Admitted within the walls that were once his own--but which would have surrendered in his absence--he could be seized and bound, and, in this plight, covered with the green net of dishonour, be exhibited before awed crowds, as a sermon against vaulting ambition.
So fluent was the old man, so completely self-convinced, that the Mikado revived and sat up, while the eyes of the circle of kugés goggled in their heads with mingled admiration and alarm. No-Kami, as we have seen, was sent for in peremptory fashion. The Fountain suggested timidly that this was rash, perhaps; and then old Nara laughed loud and long and savagely.
"Time was, O Holy One!" he cried, with wagging headpiece, "when 'twas I who prated of prudence. Now I say be brave! There is naught to fear: his claws are cut. I have looked on him! There is terror in his bloodshot eyes, dread in his shaking hands and shuffling footsteps. The dying farmer called down a curse, and it works visibly, for his confidence in himself has gone--his belief in a lucky star!"
All this was vastly refreshing to the inhabitants of the palace, accustomed as they were to groaning. The Mikado, with mind at ease, sat on his lacquered chair within the white-curtained tent, and gave audience to all and sundry. The weather was bitterly cold.
A cutting wind blew down from the hills, sheeted last night with snow. Nevertheless, so benignantly disposed was he, that the Fountain of Honour ordered the shutters of the Great Hall to be removed, that those without might see him, and fall in ecstasy upon their faces. With a hibachi of fine bronze before him, clad in wadded robes with seven linings, his wizened visage was cut clear against the background by the towering black gauze leaf that he only of mortals was permitted to wear erect. Despite his wadding and his charcoal he was chilly; but what matters that when the heart is warm, the spirits high? The moment of triumph was approaching when he would claim an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,--exact a cry of pain for each that himself had uttered. Since the despot was already so stricken by outraged Buddha as to be spiritless, he, the Fountain, would improve the occasion when the culprit arrived, in order that all might perceive and applaud the seasonable resumption of his free will and dignity. Openly now he discussed with assembled kugés each succeeding step. Troops were already moving silently, under cover of the dark, towards the castle. Others were approaching from afar in the direction of the central rendezvous. On the arrival of the culprit--news had already been received of his starting--he should be solemnly arraigned and admonished, then banished in disgrace to his lands at Tsu. There he would fall into the snare, be brought back with every mark of insult and ignominy to the capital--and then--and then! What was to happen after that was too delicious to be too promptly settled. It was a morsel to be turned over and over on the tongue, not swallowed with a gulp.
Both Fountain and attendant kugés were never weary now of discussing "what then?" Of course, the last thing of all was to be harakiri. This means of final exit he could justly claim by right of name and lineage. But before the final tragedy there might, if skilfully thought out, be endless shades of moral torture; and the kugés, squatting in a row, crumpled their foreheads and stared at the gold ceiling in the delightful travail of conception. Every one had an idea which required to be examined and considered, sifted, accepted, or rejected. Meanwhile the Fountain dribbled out wisdom, encouraged brains to nimbleness, distributed applause. One of the nobles had an inspiration, whereon all his fellows cackled. There was a punishment that none had endured for years, but which might be revived with advantage for the behoof of the fallen Hojo. In a public place, before the assembled populace, a series of the lowest and dirtiest Etas were to be placed in a long line, with straddled legs, and under the arcade thus formed--a pilgrimage of consummate degradation--the humbled noble, on hands and knees, was to be condemned to crawl. An admirable suggestion! Traitorous nobles condemned to this ordeal had been known to die from very shame--their soul crushed out of them, ere half the journey was accomplished. Sure the proud-stomached Hojo would not survive, and thus would go out of the world deprived of the honour of harakiri.
The Mikado, enchanted, could conjure up the scene. He longed for the moment to arrive when the culprit, erst so domineering, would shuffle in, nervous and unstrung. A new and charming sensation this to one who was wont himself to quiver. Yes, he longed for the moment, but the wretch should not be admitted at once. Certainly not. He should be shown his place; he who had ridden roughshod should be kept waiting in an ante-room. He----Hark! what sound was that? Rapid and dreadfully familiar? Could it indeed be? A footfall, too well known, was creaking quickly along the bare boards of the corridor. Shuffling, forsooth! it was as brisk and elastic as of yore. With a glance of dismayed reproach the Mikado turned to Nara, then concealed behind a fan his burning face. Nara frowned, surprised. The crouching kugés twittered.
Mice gambol when their hereditary foe is slumbering; then, when the green gleaming eyes re-open, scuffle into holes. For these poor mice there were no holes. The footstep was crunching--crunching on their hearts. Though it approached more near, more near, with dreadful swiftness, they might not move, since no shelter was at hand, and they had not wings to fly. Alack! with idle presumption they had uncorked a bottle, and out had popped a gin that spread his bat's pinions over the sky with stifling sulphurous stench.
Dread in his shaking hand indeed! Oh, Nara! Nara! Peeping nervously between his fan-sticks, as the commanding figure that he knew too well darkened the doorway, the Fountain of Honour perceived a threatening outline in which there was no sign of decadence. As with hand lightly poised on hip, and proud head raised, the Hojo strode into the Presence, the Mikado marked that he was pale and thin, but his eye, if bloodshot, was piercing as ever--fierce as the untamed eagle's. That Nara, who boasted of experience and acumen, should be so grievously taken in. Well, well! it was all the fault of that old fool. The embroglio was of his making; it must be for him to get them out of the hobble.
But Nara, save for a deepening line between the brows, and teeth that bit the lip, seemed unaware of the apparition. Red and wrinkled lids blinked over glazed eyes which stared stonily into space from under a white and shaggy penthouse. The Daimio of Tsu, erect and menacing, glanced slowly down at the assembled lords, who, with bent backs, were contemplating the floor--then at the fan and bundle of silks which concealed the Fountain of Honour--then at the crowd without, who stood with craned necks on the verandahs, or grouped about the garden. From between his fan-sticks the Mikado followed the motions of the despot with increasing trepidation.
If only he dared to command the closing of the doors--but his tongue refused its office. Instinct told him that the cup of disgrace was again to be presented to his lips, and that it would be more bitter than ever to the taste. How hard was fate! Every one of the court circle--hatamotos, lords, knights, dependants--was to witness the unpleasing ceremony.
As the Daimio stood quietly glancing round without a word, the silence became each second less endurable. By bearing and power of eye, combined with an eloquent past, the tyrant held them cowed. Insolent! He had presumed to appear in the presence in ordinary garb,--had not deigned to don theUye-no-Bakama; or the regulation white silk shirt, orŌKatabira. And the attitude of the courtiers, too! A pack of grovelling cowards! fine weather friends. A minute since they were gabbling, one against another, of future deeds of prowess--of dazzling achievements; now not one among the startled herd had courage to sacrifice himself--to save his lord from the dilemma. Piteously the Mikado looked at Nara, who made no response; then--since it was absolutely essential that some one should break the silence--he closed his fan and whispered meekly,--
"Lord Hojo, you are welcome."
No-Kami smiled, and remarked shortly,--
"Very welcome, doubtless. As I came hither I heard a sound of mirth--now all sit mumchance. Had I not received a special summons, I should have deemed I had intruded."
The smile and accents of studied courtesy were more galling than rude speech, to which all were well accustomed. 'Twas as when a tamer of animals flicks them playfully with a wand. They are too docile to need whipping, yet, pending possible contingencies, 'tis wholesome that they should receive a tap.
Suddenly dropping the tone of banter, the Daimio strode nearer to his master, and sternly said,--
"May I know why I was summoned? No matter. I have come, and, being here, will ask a question. We are at peace, I think. During the weeks of my retirement I have heard no news of war. Why, then, a stir of arms,--a movement of troops,--marching, countermarching in the night? What is the subject of offence?--is it with China or Corea?"
The sinister eye of No-Kami fell upon Nara, who calmly responded,--"I know nothing."
"You lie!" retorted the Hojo fiercely. "Oh, base and double-faced and craven! False and deceitful is the blood of Nara--rotten is stock and branch! You and your daughter are alike."
Without changing his attitude one tittle, the old man slightly raised his brows.
"My daughter!" he said, with exceeding calm. "Forbear to breathe her name. You have broken her heart; driven her to the gate of Death. I ought to have known that none but a savage was a fit mate for Hojo."
"Pretty innocent!" sneered No-Kami, lashing himself to frenzy as he advanced towards Nara, hand raised as if to smite. "Know that your pure white blossom is my brother's paramour!"
A flush passed over the grim features of the old Daimio, then left them pale. His master nervously scanned the kugés, whose heads were bent lower than ever. From no quarter was there succour against this octopus. The Mikado fairly jumped in his seat when No-Kami spoke again.
"You, boy," he said, "see to this matter of the troops. They were summoned without your knowledge, I am willing to believe, by others, who never troubled to consult one so feeble. Or shall I, since you have called me to your side, undertake to relieve you of the task? Letters shall be despatched forthwith to the effect that 'twas a false alarm, bred of mischief and malice,--that the ronins may be disbanded, the men returned to their homes. I shall remain for the present at the Golden House, ready with my humble service when required. With you and yours, my lord, I will settle later."
With a show of exaggerated humility, which was worse than knife-stabs, and a glare at Nara, the despot departed as he came, leaving in his wake, as he scrunched away, a trail of terror and discomfiture. The sliding doors were closed in haste. For a while, the assembly remained frozen, then the unhappy Mikado heaved a deep sigh, which was met by a flutter of moaning. He was gone for the present, that was a small mercy; but then he might return at any moment, abusive and vindictive instead of caustic. The shuffling step and trembling hand. Oh, Nara, Nara! Broken reed, false friend; vain, impotent wind-bag; purblind, blustering dotard!
Gushing with torrents of weak tears, the Fountain relieved his pent-up anguish with trickling reproaches and sobs, to which the old Daimio listened gloomily. No doubt, he had been wrong in some measure, he admitted with hesitation, for so rapid a recovery had never entered into the complex web of his calculations. Perchance it was but the bright temporary flicker of the expiring lamp. The Fountain of Honour must not be too severe on his aged servant. Had he not kept his temper under grievous provocation, blows would have been exchanged in the holy presence, imperial prestige in the eyes of the whole court would have been lowered.
"Rubbish! A paltry excuse! Why, as he stood there, did none of you rid me of him?" groaned the Fountain, whereupon the abject circle groaned in echo.
"Of a truth, some one should have done it," bleated one; but surprise, after what they had heard, unnerved each arm; and, indeed, the Hojo was a terrible person, an ogre to terrify the doughtiest.
"Bluster and cowardice are sisters!" continued the lamenting Mikado. He could never trust any of them any more--never, never--the cravens! His chains, heavy and numbing, were riveted with adamantine links! and so forth--with a chorus of bleating.
When you know that you have done your best,--that but for some one unforeseen and ineradicable speck your carefully-wrought blade would be faultless, a shimmering masterpiece--it is vastly vexatious for people whom you despise, although they wear the aureole, to go on ungenerously drivelling anent that one undeniable blemish. Nara, as he said, had endured a great deal at the hard hand of Hojo, but to sit calmly any longer under the futile reproaches of the Holy One was beyond his stock of that patience he was so fond of recommending to others.
Moreover, is not the putting aside of what is past and unpleasant a principle approved of by sages? What is done is done. Even after the late scene, wherein a brutal keeper disported himself among his animals, and departed triumphing, all was not lost, The Fountain had been compelled to imbibe another sip of a nauseous draught with which he was so familiar, that surely it did not signify, at any rate, it should be the last His faithful Nara promised it. How the never-sufficiently-to-be-accursed Hojo had ever discovered the approaching advent of cohorts was a puzzle. But the cohorts were near by this time, and they must even make an open stand against the tyrant, since the scheme of treachery had failed. He, the domineering Hojo, would write angry and imperious letters to the approaching daimios, bidding them begone; but in the name of the Holy One letters could also be sent--secretly, of course--exhorting them to ride all the quicker, since the situation had become acute.
"I will gird my old sword again, despite my many winters," Nara concluded pompously. "Dost think that because my hair is white my heart is frozen? Under the snows of Shirané-San and Asama-Yama smoulder the hidden fires. This man's father has immured three Emperors, and he himself is preparing to depose a fourth. He has insulted me, and broken my daughter's heart. A little craft--a very little more--and the crest of the despot is laid low."
The hapless Mikado suffocated. Tears of impotent wrath welled from his august eyelids. Cowardice and bluster to the end, and broken reeds to lean on, while he drained the nauseous cup! Verily the banished Emperors were to be envied. The young man rose, and retired to his inner chamber, and lay prone with moans in darkness.