CHAPTER XV
Okido-sama, the Nakoda, was squatting comfortably upon his heels eating his warm rice and fish when Richard Verley came to his door. During the absence of the minister, Okido had apparently prospered. His house was new. His servants many and obsequious. The one who hastened to respond to the minister’s knock did not recognize him in the darkened rainy evening. He perceived only a barbarian and, knowing his master’s trade, saw in him a possible customer.
Verley was shown into the guest chamber.Shortly came Okido to the room, fat and oily, discreetly wiping the rice crumbs from his thick lips with the back of his hands. He was bowing grotesquely at every step as he came toward the minister, but when he finally lifted his head and saw who his guest was, he gave such a startled jump that he fell in a heap on the floor, and there he remained, trembling with fright. Instantly Verley was convinced that the man knew all about his wife, her whereabouts, the horrible fate that must have befallen her.
“My wife! You know her whereabouts?”
“Your wife!” stammered the cringingOkido. “What was her august name, Excellency?”
“You know it. Answer at once.”
“Excellency is honorably mistaken. I do not know the name of the exalted one’s wife.”
Verley, with no effort at gentleness, seized him by the shoulder of his robe, and as he spoke shook the trembling wretch threateningly.
“You will answer my question. Understand.”
The Nakoda began to whimper, drawing his sleeve across his eyes and furtively looking about for a means of escape.
He was poor man, very poor, harmlessman. Surely Excellency would not hurt him.
“Quick. I am waiting.”
“So many people I know,” whimpered the Nakoda. “How I can remember one woman among them all.”
“You do not need to remember. You already know of whom I speak.”
“She was a tall woman with thin cheeks, yes?” he inquired with attempted guile.
The minister answered by tightening his grip upon the man’s collar, and pushing his knuckles hard upon the neck. Okido shrunk fearfully from the large hand of the white man. He felt sure it would hurt hard. After a moment:
“She was fat—yes, surely fat!”
“That will do.”
He slipped down to the minister’s feet and beat his head, seeking to shake off that hand at his neck.
“Listen,” said Richard Verley, “I will give you five minutes in which to answer. At the end of that time——”
“Excellency will not beat a poor man. Ah, surely not!”
“Excellency will kick the life out of you.”
“No, no.” Okido cast a fearful glance at the minister’s boots. “I will speak truth. Surely!”
At those words, the minister for amoment forgot his caution, and slackened the tension at the man’s neck. But in that moment Okido was free. He had slipped not only from the minister’s grip, but had disappeared as if by magic through the wall against which he had crouched.
Richard Verley was alone. He strode from one to the other of the four walls of the shoji. He threw them all apart and penetrated into the interior apartments. The servants fled before him with the speed of wings and disappeared as silently and swiftly as their master. Suddenly he found himself on the door step. He went down slowly into the street.
Some one called his name. “Excellency! Master—sir!”
He turned quickly and saw the woman Natsu following him.
Her name burst in a cry from his lips, and he rushed toward her.
“Natsu! You! Your mistress—quick, how—where is she?”
Her eyes shifted from his face. She covered her own with her sleeve, and thus she stood, the picture of sorrow.
The minister stared at her, horrified. When he spoke his voice was strange.
“I understand,” he said. “She is——”
And so she had died—his little, laughing Azalea, his beautiful child-wife, had diedwhile he was away from her. He put out his hands blindly, as the inclination to faint overcame him. He hardly understood the words the woman spoke.
“Oh, master, master, master!”
But the woman’s voice recalled him. He stared at her mechanically. Mechanically he spoke.
“I understand,” he said. “She is dead.”
“Dead!” repeated the woman, and shook her head. “No, no, not dead; better that than what is, O master—sir!”
“Not dead!” His hands unclinched. His fears had lent phantoms to his imagination. “Alive! Why, then all was well.”His thought escaped his lips, and the woman answered:
“Better death than sin, O master.”
He could have laughed. What! Was this servant of his trying to frighten him with her old jealous tales of the insincerity of his wife’s conversion. The sins of Azalea were microscopic.
“Come, Natsu, let us go to her,” he said impatiently. “Why do you look at me in that way? Are you, too, seeking to hide her whereabouts from me?”
“No, master, but if I take you thither, you will curse me for my evil offices.”
“I don’t understand you, Natsu. Youalways were a mystery to me. But now, come. Where is she?”
“Oh, master, seek her not!”
As he still sought to draw her along with him, she slipped down to his feet and stayed his progress with her head there.
“Why do you seek to deceive me, Natsu? What is the matter with you? Why do you act thus? What has happened to my wife? Speak!”
Still kneeling, with her head at his feet, she answered:
“She has become wife to Matsuda Isami, Oh, Highness.”
As he did not speak or seem to comprehend her words, she repeated them. Andthen, as still he made no sound, she said:
“Isami is richest man in Sanyo. What is there he cannot buy?”
She was seized by the shoulders in a savage grip. Her very teeth smote together with the shock of his grasp.
“You lie!” he cried. “You lie! Vile thing, you lie, I say!”