CHAPTER XVII
Okido bowed to the floor before the illustrious Matsuda Isami. Knowing well the nature and temper of his employer, he did not waste much time upon courtesies, but went briefly to the object of his visit.
“He has returned,” he said.
“What is that you say?”
“The white beast——”
“Ah!” Matsuda’s grasp relaxed. He took several strides across the room, then stopped before an opened shoji and drummed upon the panelling.
“Well, then—what of that?” he asked.
Okido came to his elbow and whispered agitatively:
“But she will see him. It cannot be helped.”
Matsuda laughed diabolically.
“I have complete command over her eyes, my good Okido. Have you not yet observed how she is conquered?”
Okido shook his head dubiously.
“But should Mr. Beast come in person to your house?”
“We have means of dealing with barbarous dogs,” quoth Matsuda contemptuously, “and the police of this town respect the authority of their masters.”
“But the letters, most Exalted? He will make inquiry.”
“Pah! What of it? Will it be the first time that mail has been lost between this country and America?”
“——so much mail.” Okido moved uneasily. “Excellency, I am afraid of the heavy boot of the barbarian. It was I who kept back for you the letters from the barbarian to the woman. It is said his government is powerful—revengeful. Let me beseech you to give me a sufficient sum to get swiftly away.”
“On the contrary. You must stay here and help me. Besides, you forget the woman Natsu was the one who held theletters. They should weight her sleeves, not yours.”
“Yet, good Excellency, I was the carrier, and——”
“You delivered the letters?”
“Not to the one to whom they were addressed, but to the servant of the foreign devil, who, Exalted, declares she gave them to you.”
Matsuda laughed unpleasantly.
“Huh! Then it is my sleeves which are weighted!”
In the room above the speakers the woman Azalea watched over the open patch in the floor. Her face beneath the heavy rouge plastered lately upon it by Natsuwas a ghastly white. Her bosom was heaving with her quick breathing, her glittering eyes were horrible to look upon. She had heard and understood every word of the dialogue, and now she crouched in the attitude of a feline about to spring, looking down with dreadful eyes upon the head of that one below. Yet in this moment of frenzy Azalea did not scream or faint. Now the strength of her samurai ancestors surged upward through her veins, tingling her whole being. Everything else was blotted out—forgotten. She obeyed only the hereditary instinct of the samurai—an instinct for revenge. When she could move from her crouching position by the opening,she arose with silent swiftness. She stood straight and still, only her eyes slowly travelling about the room as though seeking some object.
Suddenly she found it—the sword! Her small hands gripped its blade and felt its keenness. Then she hid it in the folds of her kimona, and, her colorless lips close pressed together, she passed soundlessly from the room down the little flight of steps and through the hall. Suddenly and almost soundlessly she pushed aside the shoji of the ozashishi. Now she stood between the opening, her eyes upon the startled ones of Matsuda Isami.
“As the sword flashed upward he dashed to one side and then slipped under its guard.”(Page229)
“As the sword flashed upward he dashed to one side and then slipped under its guard.”(Page229)
“As the sword flashed upward he dashed to one side and then slipped under its guard.”(Page229)
In a flash he understood that somehowshe had heard and knew now the truth. His servants had grown careless. She had escaped from the trap he had set for her. Vengeance was written in every line of her rigid form. He could almost see the twitching of her fingers upon the concealed weapon in her sleeve. With a cunning worthy of the man he advanced a step toward her, hoping in this way to precipitate her attack, and when she should spring upon him he would trip her. He said as he advanced:
“Little dove, you look pale to-day—why——”
As the sword flashed upward he dashed to one side and then slipped under its guard.His heavy hands locked together descended crushingly upon her head. She threw back her arms, the sword slipping from her hand. Then she fell backward.
Across her fallen body Matsuda Isami and Okido stared at each other. The latter was shivering as though afflicted with ague. He kept repeating over and over between his chattering teeth: “Shaka! Shaka! Shaka!”
“Do not speak so loud,” hoarsely commanded the other, “or, by all the gods, I will send you to join her!”
The little Nakoda shrank and shivered beat his head upon the floor.
Matsuda strode to the dividing doors.He called the woman Natsu as he clapped his hands. She came hurrying along the hall and stood open-mouthed on the threshold, looking in on that outstretched form. Her eyes lifted in question to the man Matsuda.
“Hear me,” he whispered hoarsely. “The woman has fallen in some swoon. We will tie her devil offspring to her back and carry her up to the place where she belongs. Give me your aid, good Natsu, and I will marry you instead.”