[1]Constellation of the Scorpion.
[1]Constellation of the Scorpion.
[2]Royal residence.
[2]Royal residence.
A few hours later, groups of courtiers stood beneath the veranda of the palace of Hieyas; anxious to be the first to greet the real master, they awaited his wakening. Some leaned against the cedar columns that supported the roof, others, standing firm on their legs, one hand on their hip, crumpling the silky folds of their loose tunic, listened to one of their number as he told an anecdote, doubtless very entertaining, for it was followed with the utmost attention, and the auditors let fall an occasional laugh, instantly stifled out of respect for the slumbers of the illustrious sleeper.
The narrator was the Prince of Tosa, and the Prince of Nagato the hero of the adventure that he recounted.
"Yesterday," he said, "the sun was setting when I heard a noise at my palace gate. I went to the window, and saw my servants wrangling with a troop of blind men. The latter were bent on entering, and all talked at once, striking the flagstones with their sticks; the lackeys shouted to drive them off, and no one heard what the other said. I was beginning to lose my temper at the scene, when the Prince of Nagato appeared; my servants at once bowed low before him, and at his order admitted the blind men into the pavilion used as a stable for the horses of my visitors. I went out to meet the Prince, curious to hear an explanation, of this comedy.
"'Make haste!' he said as he entered, throwing a bundle on the floor; 'let us take off our robes, and dress in these costumes.'
"'But why?' I asked, looking at the costumes, which were little to my taste.
"'What!' said he, 'is not this the hour when we may drop the weary pomp of our rank, and become free and happy men?'
"'Yes,' said I; 'but why use our liberty to muffle ourselves in that ugly garb?'
"'You shall see; I have a scheme,' said the Prince, who was already disrobing; then, putting his lips to my ear, he added, 'I marry, to-night. You'll see what a lark it will be.'
"'What! you're going to be married, and in that dress?' I cried, looking at the Prince in his beggarly disguise.
"'Come, hurry,' he said; 'or we sha'n't find the bride.'
The Prince was half way downstairs. I quickly donned a dress like his, and, urged by curiosity, followed him.
"'But,' I exclaimed, 'all those blind men whom you quartered in the stable?'
"'We will join them.'
"'In the stable?' I asked.
"I did not understand a blessed thing; but I had confidence in the whimsical fancy of the Prince, and I patiently waited for him to solve the mystery. The blind men had collected in the great courtyard of the palace, and I saw that we were dressed precisely like them. The poor fellows had the most comical faces imaginable, with their lashless eyelids, their flat noses, their thick lips, and their stupidly happy expression. Nagato put a staff in my hand, and said: 'Let us be off.'
"The gates were thrown open. The blind men, holding one another by the skirt, started out, tapping the ground with their sticks as they went. Nagato, bending his back and shutting his eyes, followed in their rear. I saw that I was expected to do the same, and I tried my best to imitate him. There we were in the streets in the train of that band of blind men. I could restrain myself no longer. I was seized with a frantic fit of laughter, which all my comrades soon shared."
"Nagato has certainly lost his senses!" cried the Prince of Tosa's hearers, writhing with laughter.
"And Tosa was scarcely better!"
"The Prince of Nagato, he never laughed," continued the story-teller; "he was very angry. I tried to find out something of the Prince's plans from the blind man nearest me, but he knew nothing of them. I only learned that the corporation of which I formed a part belonged to that confraternity of blind men whose business it is to go among the middle classes to rub sick people and those who are not strong. The idea that we might perhaps have to rub some one, sent me off again into such a fit of merriment that, in spite of my efforts to keep a straight face to please the Prince, I was obliged to stop and sit down on a stone to hold my sides.
"Nagato was furious. 'You'll put a stop to my marriage,' he said.
"I set off again, winking my eyes and imitating the gait of my strange fellow-travellers as best I could. They struck the ground with their sticks, and, at this noise, people leaned from their windows and called them in. In this way we came to a house of poor appearance. The noise of sticks was redoubled. A voice demanded two shampooers.
"'Come,' said Nagato to me; 'this is the place.'
"Leaving the band, we went up a few steps and found ourselves in the house. I saw two women, whom Nagato awkwardly saluted, turning his back to them as he did so. I hastily shut my eyes and bowed to the wall. But I managed to half open one eye again, prompted by curiosity. There were a young girl and an old woman, probably her mother.
"'Take us first,' said the latter; 'you shall rub my husband later.'
"She then squatted on the floor and bared her back. I foresaw that the old woman would fall to my lot, and that I must certainly play the part of shampooer. Nagato was lost in salutations.
"'Ah! ah! ah!' he mumbled, as inferiors do when saluting a person of high rank.
"I began to rub the old lady violently, and she uttered lamentable groans; I struggled bravely to resist the laugh which again rose in my throat and nearly choked me. The girl had uncovered one shoulder, modestly, as if we had had eyes.
"'It is there,' she said; 'I gave myself a blow, and the doctor said that it would do me good to be rubbed.'
"Nagato began to rub the young girl with amazing gravity; but all at once he seemed to forget his rôle of blind man.
"'What beautiful hair you have!' said he. 'There's one thing certain: if you were to adopt the headdress of noble women, you would not have to resort, as they do, to all sorts of devices for lengthening your hair.'
"The young girl gave a shriek and turned round; she saw Nagato's very wide open eyes fixed upon her.
"'Mother!' she exclaimed, 'these are no blind men!'
"The mother fell flat on the floor; and surprise taking away all her senses, she made no effort to rise, but began to utter yells of rare shrillness.
"The father ran in in a fright.
"As for me, I gave free vent to my mirth, and rolled on the ground, unable to hold in longer. To my great surprise, the Prince of Nagato threw himself at the workman's feet.
"'Forgive us,' said he. 'Your daughter and I want to be married; and as I have no money, I resolved to follow the custom of the country and carry her off, to avoid wedding expenses. According to custom also, you must forgive us, after playing the stem parent for a little while.'
"'I marry that man!' said the girl; 'but I don't know him in the least.'
"'You think my daughter would take a scamp like you fora husband?" cried the father. 'Be off! out of the house in a trice, if you don't want to be acquainted with my fists.'
"The sound of his angry voice began to attract a crowd before the house. Nagato gave a long-drawn whistle.
"'Will you go!' cried the man of the people, scarlet with rage; and, amidst the most vulgar insults and objurgations, he raised his fist upon Nagato.
"'Do not strike one who will soon be your son,' said the Prince, catching him by the arm.
"'You, my son! You will sooner see the snow on Fusiyama blossom with flowers.'
"'I swear that you shall be my father-in-law,' said the Prince, throwing his arms round the fellow's waist.
"The latter struggled in vain; Nagato bore him from the house. I then approached the balustrade, and saw the crowd collected outside, dispersed by the runners preceding a magnificent procession,—music, banners, palanquins, all bearing the Prince's arms. The norimonos stopped at the door, and Nagato stuffed his father-in-law into one of them, which he closed and fastened with a pad-lock. I saw what I was to do; I clutched the old woman and settled her in another palanquin, while Nagato went back to got the girl. Two norimonos received us, and the procession set out, while the music sounded gayly. We soon reached a charming establishment in the midst of the prettiest garden I ever saw. Everything was lighted up; orchestras hidden among the foliage played softly; busy servants ran to and fro.
"'What is this enchanting palace?' said I to Nagato.
"'Oh! a trifle,' he answered scornfully; 'it is a little house which I bought for my new wife.'
"'He is crazy,' thought I, 'and will utterly ruin himself; but that's not my affair.'
"We were led into a room, where we put on splendid dresses; then we went down into the banquet-hall, where we met all Nagato's young friends, Satake, Foungo, Aki, and many others. They received us with enthusiastic shouts. Soon the bride, superbly dressed, entered, followed by her father and mother, stumbling over the folds of their silken robes. The father seemed quite calm, the mother was flurried, and the young girl so astounded that she kept her pretty mouth wide open. Nagato declared that he took her for his wife, and the marriage ceremony was complete. I never saw so merry a one. The feast was most delicate, everybody was soon drunk, and I among the rest; but I had myself carried hack to the palace about three o'clock for a brief rest, for I wanted to be present this morning at the Regent's levee."
"That is the most absurd story I ever heard," said the Prince of Figo. "There is certainly no one like Nagato for knowing how to carry out a joke."
"And he is really married?" asked another lord.
"Very really," said the Prince of Tosa; "the marriage is legal, in spite of the woman's low rank."
"The Prince invents new follies every day, and gives splendid feasts; he must come to an end of his vast fortune ere long."
"If he is ruined, it will please the Regent, who does not love him over much."
"Yes; but it will grieve the Shogun, who is exceedingly fond of him, and who will never let him want for money."
"Hollo!" cried the Prince of Tosa, "there comes Nagato back to the palace."
A procession was indeed passing through the gardens. On the banners and on the norimono, borne by twenty men, were visible the insignia of the Prince,—a black bolt surmounting three balls in pyramidal form. Thecortégemarched quite near the veranda which sheltered the nobles, and through the curtains of the norimono they saw the young Prince dozing on his cushions.
"He surely won't come to the Regent's levee," said one lord; "he would run the risk of falling asleep on the shoulder of Hieyas."
"Nagato never comes to pay his respects to Hieyas; he detests him profoundly; he is his avowed enemy."
"Such an enemy is not much to be feared," said the Prince of Tosa. "On his return from these nightly escapades he is only fit for sleeping."
"I don't know whether that is the Regent's opinion."
"If he thought otherwise, would he endure from him insults serious enough to condemn him to hara-kiri? If the Prince still lives, he owes it to the clemency of Hieyas."
"Or to the loving protection of Fide-Yori."
"Doubtless Hieyas is only generous through regard for the master; but if all his enemies were of Nagato's mind, he might esteem himself happy."
While the courtiers thus chatted away the time of waiting for his waking, Hieyas, who had risen long before, paced his chamber, anxious, uneasy, bearing on his care-worn face the marks of sleeplessness.
A man stood near the Regent, leaning against the wall; he watched him stride up and down; this man was a former groom, named Faxibo. Hostlers had enjoyed considerable favor since the accession to power of Taiko-Sama, who was originally an hostler. Faxibo was deeper than any other person in the confidence of the Regent, who hid nothing from him, and even thought aloud in his presence.
Hieyas constantly raised the blind from the window and looked out.
"Nothing," he said impatiently; "no news. It is incomprehensible."
"Be patient for a few moments more," said Faxibo; "those whom you sent out upon the Kioto road cannot have returned yet."
"But the others! There were forty of them, and not one has returned! If he has escaped me again, it is maddening."
"Perhaps you exaggerate the man's importance," said Faxibo. "It is a love-affair that attracts him to Kioto; his head is full of follies."
"So you think; and I confess that this man terrifies me," said the Regent vehemently, pausing before Faxibo. "No one ever knows what he is doing; you think him here, he is there. He outwits the most cunning spies: one declares that he followed him to Kioto, another swears that he has not lost sight of him for an instant, and that he has hot left Osaka; all his friends supped with him, while he was fighting on his return from the Miako[1]with men stationed by me. I think him asleep, or busy with his own affairs: one of my schemes is on the eve of success; his hand descends upon me at the last, moment. The empire would long since have been ours if it had not been for him; my partisans are numerous, but his are no less strong, and he has the right on his side. Stay: that plan which I had so skilfully arranged to rid the country, under the guise of accident, of a sovereign without talent and without energy,—that plan which was to throw the power into my hands,—who frustrated it? Who was the accursed coachman who urged that infernal team across the bridge? Nagato! He, always he. However," added Hieyas, "some one else, one of my allies, must have played the traitor, for it is impossible that any other can have guessed the scheme. Ah! if I knew the villain's name, I would at least gratify myself by an awful revenge."
"I told you what I was able to discover," said Faxibo. "Fide-Yori exclaimed at the moment of the crash: 'Omiti, you were right!'"
"Omiti! Who is Omiti? I do not know the name."
The Regent had advanced into the hall adjoining his chamber, which was divided, by a large screen only, from the veranda where the nobles were awaiting his coming. From within, this screen admitted of seeing without being seen. Hieyas heard the name of Nagato uttered; he approached eagerly, and signed to Faxibo to come close to him. Thus they heard the whole story of the Prince of Tosa.
"Yes," muttered Hieyas; "for a long time I took him for a man of dissolute morals and of no political importance; that was why I at first favored his intimacy with Fide-Yori. How deeply I repent it, now that I know what he is worth!"
"You see, master," said Faxibo, "that the Prince, doubtless warned of your project, did not quit Osaka."
"I tell you he was at the Miako, and did not leave there until far on in the night."
"And yet the Prince of Tosa was with him until very late."
"One of my spies followed him to Kioto; he entered the city in broad daylight, and remained there until midnight."
"It is incomprehensible," said Faxibo. "Stay! there he is, going home," he added, seeing Nagato's procession.
"Is it really he who occupies the litter?" asked Hieyas, trying to look out.
"I think I recognized him," replied Faxibo.
"Impossible! it cannot be the Prince of Nagato, unless it be his corpse."
At this moment a man entered the chamber, and prostrated himself with his face on the ground.
"It is my envoy," cried Hieyas. "Speak quickly, come I What have you learned?" he cried to the messenger.
"I went to the part of the road to which you directed me, all-powerful master," said the envoy. "At that spot the ground was strewn with corpses; I counted forty men and fifteen horses. Peasants were hovering around the dead; some felt of them, to see if there were no lingering trace of life. Others pursued the wounded horses, which were running about the rice-fields. I asked what had happened. They told me that no one knew; but at sunrise they saw a band of horsemen pass, belonging to the divine Mikado; they were on their way to Kioto. As for the corpses lying by the roadside, red with their blood, they all wore dark costumes, without any armorial bearings, and their faces were half hidden by their headdress, after the fashion of bandits and assassins."
"Enough!" exclaimed Hieyas, frowning; "go!"
The envoy retired, or rather fled.
"He has escaped me again," said Hieyas. "Well! I must deal the blow with my own hand. The end which I would attain is so noble, that I should not hesitate to use infamous means to overthrow the obstacles which rise in my path. Faxibo," he added, turning to the ex-groom, "usher in those who wait. Their presence may drive away the sad forebodings which oppressed me all night."
Faxibo lifted aside the screen, and the nobles entered one after another to greet the master. Hieyas observed that the courtiers were loss numerous than usual; none were present except those princes who were wholly devoted to his cause, and some few indifferent people who sought a special favor of the Regent.
Hieyas, still talking with the lords, moved out upon the veranda and looked around.
It seemed to him that an unusual bustle pervaded the palace courts. Messengers were starting off every moment, and princes coming up in their norimonos, in spite of the early hour. All were proceeding towards Fide-Yori's palace.
"What is the matter?" thought he; "whence comes all this stir I what mean these messengers bearing orders of which I know nothing?" And, full of alarm, he dismissed the lords with a gesture.
"You will excuse me, I know," he said "the interests of the country call me."
But before the princes had taken leave, a soldier entered the room.
"The Shogun, Fide-Yori, begs the illustrious Hieyas to be good enough to come before his presence at once," said he; and without waiting for an answer, he departed.
Hieyas stopped the lords who were about to leave.
"Wait for me here," he said; "I do not know what is going on, but I am devoured by anxiety. You are devoted to me; I may possibly need you."
He saluted them with a wave of the hand, and went slowly out, his head bent, followed only by Faxibo.
[1]That is to say, the capital.
[1]That is to say, the capital.
When he entered the hall where Fide-Yori was waiting for him, Hieyas saw that something important was about to occur.
All the party devoted to the son of Taiko-Sama were assembled there.
Fide-Yori wore for the first time, that warlike and royal costume which he alone had the right to assume. The cuirass of black horn girt his body, and heavy skirts, made of a series of plates fastened together by stitches of red silk, fell over a pair of loose trousers confined from the ankle to the knee by velvet gaiters. He had a sword on his left side, and another on the right. Three golden stars glittered on his breast; his hand rested upon an iron wand. The young man was seated on a folding stool such as warriors use in their tents.
On his right stood his mother, the beautiful Yodogimi, pale and nervous, but splendidly arrayed; on his left, the Prince of Mayada, who shared the regency with Hieyas; but being very old, and for some time past an invalid, this Prince held himself aloof from business matters. He however kept watch over Hieyas, and maintained the interests of Fide-Yori as far as possible.
On one side were the princes of Satsuma, Satake, Arima, Aki, and Issida; on the other, the warriors,—General Sanada-Sayemon-Yoke-Moura at their head,—in battle array; Aroufza, Moto-Tsoumou, Harounaga, Moritzka, and a very beautiful and serious young man, named Signenari.
All the Shogun's friends, in fact, and all the mortal enemies of the Regent were assembled; yet Nagato was absent.
Hieyas cast a haughty glance around the assembly.
"Here I am," he said, in a firm voice; "I am waiting. What are your wishes?"
A profound silence was the only answer. Fide-Yori turned away his eyes from him in horror.
At last the Prince of Mayada began to speak.
"We wish nothing from you but justice," said he; "we would simply recall to you a fact which you seem to have forgotten,—that your term of regency as well as mine, expired some months since, Hieyas; and in your zeal for governing the empire you have not heeded this. The son of Taiko-Sama is now of a fit age to reign; your rule is therefore over. It only remains for you to lay down your powers at the master's feet, and render him an account of your conduct, as I shall render an account of my actions while he was under our tutelage."
"You do not consider what you say," cried Hieyas, his face growing purple with rage; "you apparently mean to urge the country to its ruin!"
"I have spoken gently," replied Mayada; "do not force me to assume a different tone."
"You desire an inexperienced child," continued Hieyas, heedless of the interruption, "to wield the power before he has had any practice in the difficult profession of the head of a nation. It is as if you put a heavy porcelain vase into the hands of a new-born babe: he would let it fall to the ground, and the vase would break into a thousand bits."
"You insult our Shogun!" exclaimed the Prince of Satake.
"No," said Hieyas; "Fide-Yori himself will agree with me. I must initiate him slowly into my labors, and point out to him the possible solutions of the questions now in debate. Has he ever paid any heed to the affairs of the nation? His young intelligence was not yet ripe, and I spared him the fatigues of government. I alone possess the instructions of the great Taiko, and I alone can carry on the vast work which he undertook. The task is not yet accomplished. Therefore, in obedience to that venerated chief, I must, in spite of your opinion, retain in my own hands the power intrusted to me by him; but, to show you how highly I esteem your advice, from this day forth the youthful Fide-Yori shall share the grave cares whose burden I have hitherto borne alone. Answer, Fide-Yori," added Hieyas; "say for yourself if I have spoken after your own heart."
Fide-Yori slowly turned his ashen face towards Hieyas and gazed at him fixedly. Then, after a moment's silence, he said in a voice somewhat trembling, although full of scorn: "The noise made by Swallow bridge as it fell beneath my tread has not made me deaf to your voice."
Hieyas turned pale before him whom he had striven to send to his death; he was humbled by his crime. His lofty intelligence suffered from these spots of blood and dirt which bespattered it; he saw them in the future darkening his name, which he longed to render glorious, certain that his duty towards his country was to keep in his own hands the power of which he was worthier than any other. He felt a sort of indignation at being obliged to compel by force that which public interest should have eagerly required of him. However, resolved to struggle to the end, he raised his head, bowed for an instant beneath the weight of tumultuous thoughts, and cast a savage and overbearing glance around the room.
A threatening silence had followed the Shogun's words. It was prolonged until it became painful; the Prince of Satsuma broke it at last.
"Hieyas," he said, "I summon you in my master's name to lay down the powers with which you were invested by Taiko-Sama."
"I refuse!" said Hieyas.
A cry of amazement escaped from the lips of all the nobles. The Prince of Mayada rose; he advanced slowly towards Hieyas, and drew from his breast a paper yellowed by age.
"Do you recognize this?" said he, unfolding the writing, which he held before the eyes of Hieyas. "Was it indeed with your blood that you traced your traitorous name here side by side with my loyal one? Have you forgotten the form of the oath,—'The powers which you intrust to us we will restore to your child upon his majority; we swear it on the remains of our ancestors, before the luminous disk of the sun'? Taiko fell peacefully asleep when he saw those few scarlet lines; to-day he will rise from his tomb, perjurer, to curse you."
The old man, trembling with anger, crumpled in his hands the oath written in blood and flung it in Hieyas' face.
"But do you really think that we shall let you thus despoil our child before our eyes?" he continued. "Do you think, because you do not choose to give up what you have taken, that we will not wrest it from you? The crimes which you plot have clouded your intellect; you have no soul or honor left; you dare to stand erect before your master,—before him whom you strove to kill!"
"He not only tried to take my life," said Fide-Yori; "that man, more savage than the tiger, has this night caused the murder of my most faithful servant, my dearest friend, the Prince of Nagato!"
A shudder of horror passed over the assembly, while a flash of joy illumined the eyes of Hieyas.
"Rid of that formidable foe," he thought, "I shall soon master Fide-Yori."
As if replying to his thought, the voice of Nagato was heard. "Do not rejoice too soon, Hieyas," it said; "I am alive, and still in condition to serve my young master."
Hieyas turned quickly, and saw the Prince, who had just lifted a heavy curtain, and now entered the hall.
Nagato looked like a ghost; his eyes, glittering with the light of fever, seemed larger and blacker than usual. His face was so pale that it could hardly be distinguished from the narrow white bandage spotted with blood which bound his head. A spasm of pain shook his limbs, and caused a crystal box that sparkled in his hand to quiver.
General Yoke-Moura ran to him.
"What madness, Prince!" he cried, "to rise and walk, after losing so much blood, and in spite of the orders of your doctors!"
"Bad friend!" said Fide-Yori, "will you never cease to play with your life?"
"I will become the slave of the doctors in obedience to the undeserved interest that you take in me," said the Prince, "when I have fulfilled the mission with which I am charged."
Hieyas, filled with alarm, had taken refuge in utter silence; he watched and waited, casting frequent glances at the door, as if anxious to escape.
"I should offer you this casket on my knees, and you should receive it on your knees," said the Prince; "for it contains a message from your lord and master and ours, from him who holds his power from Heaven, from the all-powerful Mikado."
Nagato prostrated himself and offered the casket to the Shogun, who bent his knee as he took it.
Hieyas felt sure that this casket contained his final doom; and he thought that now, as always, it was the Prince of Nagato who triumphed over him.
Meanwhile Fide-Yori had unfolded the Mikado's message and ran his eye over it. An expression of joy irradiated his countenance. He raised his eyes, wet with tears, to Nagato, thinking in his turn that it was always through him that he triumphed.
"Prince of Satsuma," said he, extending the letter to the aged lord, "read this divine writing aloud to us."
The Prince of Satsuma read as follows:—
"I, the direct descendant of the Gods who founded Japan, I lower my eyes to the earth, and I see that much time has elapsed since the death of that faithful servant of my dynasty, Taiko-Sama, whom my predecessor named General-in-chief of the kingdom. The son of that illustrious leader, who rendered great services to the country, was six years old when his father died; but time has sped for him as for all men, and he is now of an age to succeed his father; wherefore I name him in his turn General-in-chief of the kingdom."In a few days the knights of Heaven shall solemnly announce to him my will and pleasure, that none may be ignorant of it."Now, trusting to Fide-Yori the cares of government, I replunge myself in the mysterious absorption of my superhuman dream."Given at the Dairi, in the nineteenth year of Nengo-Kai-Tio (164)."GO-MITZOU-NO."
"I, the direct descendant of the Gods who founded Japan, I lower my eyes to the earth, and I see that much time has elapsed since the death of that faithful servant of my dynasty, Taiko-Sama, whom my predecessor named General-in-chief of the kingdom. The son of that illustrious leader, who rendered great services to the country, was six years old when his father died; but time has sped for him as for all men, and he is now of an age to succeed his father; wherefore I name him in his turn General-in-chief of the kingdom.
"In a few days the knights of Heaven shall solemnly announce to him my will and pleasure, that none may be ignorant of it.
"Now, trusting to Fide-Yori the cares of government, I replunge myself in the mysterious absorption of my superhuman dream.
"Given at the Dairi, in the nineteenth year of Nengo-Kai-Tio (164).
"GO-MITZOU-NO."
"That is unanswerable," said Hieyas, bowing his head; "the supreme master has ordered,—I obey. I lay down the powers which were confided to me; and after the insults to which I have submitted, I know what remains for me to do. I hope that those who have managed this matter may not repent their success some day, and that the country may not have cause to groan under the weight of misfortune which may befall it."
He went out, after uttering these words, and all the lords rejoicing, gathered around the young Shogun and congratulated him.
"You should congratulate my friend and brother, Nagato," said Fide-Yori; "it was he who accomplished everything."
"All is not ended yet," said Nagato, who seemed thoughtful; "you must instantly sign Hieyas' death-warrant."
"But you heard what he said, friend; he said that he knew what remained for him to do. He is even now about to perform the hara-kiri."
"Certainly," said the Prince of Satsuma.
"He knows the code of nobility," said the Prince of Aki.
"Yes; but he despises its customs, and will not conform to them," said Nagato. "If we do not promptly condemn that man, he will escape us; and once free, he is capable of daring anything."
The Prince of Nagato had unfolded a roll of white paper, and offered a brush dipped in ink to the Shogun.
Fide-Yori seemed to waver. "To condemn him thus without a trial!" he said.
"A trial is of no avail," replied Nagato. "He has perjured himself, and failed in respect to you before the whole Council; moreover he is an assassin."
"He is my wife's grandfather," murmured the Shogun.
"You can repudiate your wife," said Nagato. "While Hieyas lives, there can be no peace for you, no safety for the country."
Fide-Yori seized the brush, wrote the warrant, and signed it.
Nagato handed the order to General Sanada-Sayemon-Yoke-Moura, who instantly left the room.
He soon returned, his countenance disfigured by wrath. "Too late!" he cried; "the Prince of Nagato was right: Hieyas has fled!"
On the shores of the Pacific Ocean, at the top of a rocky cliff, stands the fortress of the Princes of Owari. Its walls, pierced with loopholes, are so constructed as to follow the lay of the land. They are masked here and there by groups of trees and shrubs, whose fresh verdure is in happy contrast with the ragged walls of rust-colored rock.
From the summit of the fortress the view is very fine. A little bay rounds to the foot of the hill, and affords safe shelter for the junks and barks which skim the clear water in all directions; farther away the blue waves of the Pacific trace a darker line against the sky. On the land-ward side rises a chain of mountains, cultivated in patches to their very tops. Between the mountains lie valleys, where we may see villages nestling in a grove, near a brook; then the valleys end in the heart of more hills.
A broad and well-kept road winds along the undulating ground to the foot of the castle of Owari. This road, known as the Tokaido, was built by Taiko-Sama; it intersects the entire kingdom, traversing the domains of the Daimios, and is under the sole jurisdiction of the Shogun.
The Prince who ruled over the province of Owari was at this time living in his castle.
About the third hour after noon on the day that Hieyas fled from Osaka, the sentinel posted on the loftiest tower of the palace of Owari cried out that he saw a troop of horsemen galloping along the Tokaido. The Prince was at the moment in one of the courts of the castle, crouched upon his heels, his hands resting on his thighs. He was attending a lesson in hara-kiri taken by his young son.
The child, seated on a mat in the centre of the court, held in both hands a short, blunt sword, and raised his pretty artless face, already serious in its cast, towards his instructor, seated opposite him. Women were looking on from a gallery above; and their dresses made bright spots of color against the delicate tints of the carved wood-work. Enormous butterflies, birds, flowers, or variegated balls were embroidered on their robes; every head was bristling with big yellow tortoise-shell pins. They chattered together with a thousand bewitching airs and graces.
In the court, leaning against the upright post of a bronze lantern, a young girl in a closely fitting dress of sky-blue crape, with all the folds drawn to the front, fixed an absent gaze upon the little lord; in her hand she held a screen, upon which was painted a humming-bird.
"Hold the sword firmly," said the teacher; "apply it by the point, below the left ribs; be careful that the edge of the blade is turned to the right. Now grasp the hilt in your hand, and bear on with all your strength; then quickly, without moderating your pressure, move your weapon horizontally towards your right side. In this way you will cleave your body in twain according to strict rule."
The child went through the motions with such violence that he tore his robe.
"Good! good!" exclaimed the Prince of Owari, striking his thighs with his open hands. "The little fellow has plenty of courage!"
At the same time he raised his eyes to the women leaning from the balcony, and imparted his impression to them by a sign of the head.
"He will be brave and intrepid as his father," said one of them.
It was just then that news was brought to the Prince of the appearance of a band of horsemen on the royal road.
"Doubtless a neighboring lord coming to visit me incognito," said the Prince; "or else these horsemen are merely passing travellers. At any rate, there is no reason to interrupt the lesson."
The teacher then made his pupil repeat the list of incidents which oblige a man of noble race to rip himself open; namely, to incur the displeasure of the Shogun, or receive from him a public reprimand; to disgrace himself; to avenge an insult by slaying its originator; voluntarily or involuntarily to permit the escape of prisoners intrusted to one's care; and innumerable other nice cases.
"Add," said the Prince of Owari, "to be wanting in respect to one's father. In my opinion, a son who insults his parents can only expiate that crime by performing hara-kiri."
At the same time he cast another look at the women, which meant: "It is well to inspire children with a dread of paternal authority."
At this moment a loud noise of horses pawing the pavement was heard in an adjoining court-yard, and an imperious voice called out: "Lift the drawbridge! Close the gates!"
The Prince of Owari sprang to his feet.
"Who gives orders in my house?" said he.
"I!" answered the same voice.
And at the same time a group of men entered the second court.
"The Regent!" cried the Prince of Owari, falling prostrate.
"Rise, friend!" said Hieyas, with a bitter smile; "I have no longer any right to the honors that you render me; I am, for the moment, your equal."
"What has happened?" anxiously inquired the Prince.
"Dismiss your women," said Hieyas.
Owari made a sign; the women disappeared.
"Take your brother away, Omiti," said he to the young girl, who had turned terribly pale at the entrance of Hieyas.
"Is your daughter's name Omiti?" exclaimed the latter, his face growing suddenly purple.
"Yes, master. Why do you ask?"
"Call her back, I beg."
Owari obeyed. The young girl returned, trembling, and with downcast eyes.
Hieyas looked at her fixedly with an expression on his face which would have alarmed any one who knew the man. The maiden, however, raised her head, and an undaunted spirit was apparent in her eyes,—a sort of self-renunciation.
"It was you who betrayed us," said Hieyas in a dull, heavy voice.
"Yes," said she.
"What does this mean?" cried the Prince of Owari with a start.
"It means that the plot so carefully contrived within these castle walls, so mysteriously concealed from all, was surprised and revealed by her."
"Wretch!" cried the Prince raising his clenched fist against his daughter.
"A woman,—a child,—to ruin a political conspiracy!" continued Hieyas. "A vile pebble, to make you stumble, and hurl you headlong to the ground! It is a mockery!"
"I will kill you!" yelled Owari.
"Kill me! what will it matter?" said the girl. "I have saved the King. Is not his life worth mine? I have long awaited your vengeance."
"You shall wait no longer!" said the Prince, seizing her by the throat.
"No; do not kill her!" said Hieyas. "I will take her punishment into my own hands."
"So be it!" said Owari; "I abandon her to you."
"It is well!" said Hieyas, signing to Faxibo not to lose sight of the young girl. "But let us leave what is past and gone; let us look towards the future. Are you still devoted to me?"
"Can you doubt it, master? And must I not now struggle to repair the wrong done you by one of my family without my knowledge?"
"Listen, then. A conspiracy has suddenly wrested the power from my hands. I contrived to escape the death that threatened me, and fled in the direction of my principality of Mikawa. Your domains lie between Osaka and my province. Your fortress overlooks the sea, and can bar the passage of soldiers coming from Osaka; that is why I stopped here, to bid you collect your troops as quickly as possible and put your country in a state of defence. Guard your castle well. I will stay here, where I am safe from sudden attack, while my faithful comrade, Ino-Kamo-No-Kami" (Hieyas pointed to a nobleman in his escort, who bowed low to the Prince of Owari, the latter returning his salute), "proceeds to the castle of Mikawa, fortifies the whole province, and gives the alarm to all the princes my allies."
"I am your slave, master; dispose of me."
"Give orders to your soldiers at once."
The Prince of Owari left the courtyard. Servants ushered their master's guests into cool, airy apartments, and served them with tea, sweetmeats, and a light meal.
Soon Ino-Kamo-No-Kami took leave of Hieyas, who gave him his final instructions; and taking with him two of the lords who had accompanied them thither, he remounted his horse and left the castle.
Hieyas then called Faxibo.
The latter was engaged in devouring a honey-cake, never taking his eyes from Omiti, as she sat in a corner of the room.
"Can you disguise yourself so that none shall know you?" he asked him.
"So that you yourself would not know me," said Faxibo.
"Good! To-morrow morning you will return to Osaka and arrange to learn all that goes on in the palace. Moreover, you will travel with a woman."
Hieyas leaned towards the ex-groom and whispered in his ear.
An evil smile hovered upon Faxibo's lips.
"Good, good!" he said; "to-morrow at dawn I will be ready to start."
In one of the suburbs of Osaka, not far from the beach whose white sandy slope stretches down to the sea, stood an immense building, whose roofs, of various heights, rose far above the level of the neighboring houses. The front of this edifice opened full upon a busy street, always crowded, and full of noise and confusion.
The first floor had a series of broad windows, closed by gay-colored blinds, which were often opened wide by a push from one of the inquisitive young women whose peals of laughter rang upon the air.
At the corners of the various roofs banners floated and large lozenge-shaped lanterns swung; the ground-floor consisted of a wide gallery open to the street and protected from the sun and wind by a light roof. Three big black characters, inscribed on a gilded panel, formed the sign of the establishment, and ran as follows,—"The Day-Break Inn. Tea and Saki."
Towards noon the balcony was crowded with customers; they sat with crossed legs upon the mat which covered the floor; they drank saki, or hid their faces in the cloud of steam rising from the cup of tea, upon which they blew lustily, to cool it. Women, coquettishly arrayed and carefully painted, moved gracefully about from group to group, carrying the hot drink. In the background you might see smoking stoves and pretty china cups and dishes arranged upon sets of red lacquer shelves.
Every moment fresh passers-by, cango-bearers, and men carrying burdens would stop, ask for a drink, pay, and hurry off again.
Sometimes a quarrel would arise in front of the inn and degenerate into a brawl, to the great delight of the patrons.
For instance, a pedler ran against a dealer in shells and cuttle-fish; his basket of wares was upset, and all the fish fell to the ground and rolled in the dirt.
High words rained on either side, traffic was hindered, a crowd collected and took sides with one or the other of the contending parties, and soon two hostile armies were ready to try the fate of arms.
But a shout arose: "The cable! the cable! Don't fight; bring a cable!"
Some of the spectators hurried off, bustled into one house after another, and at last, finding what they wanted, came running back with a large rope.
Then the lookers-on took up their stand in front of the houses, leaving a free space for those who were to struggle. The latter seized the rope in both hands, there being fifteen on each side, and began to pull with all their might and main. The rope stretched and shook, then held firm.
"Courage! Hold tight! Don't let go!" was the cry on every side.
However, after struggling long against fatigue, one of the parties suddenly let go the rope. The victors fell all together in a heap, with their legs in the air, amidst the shouts and laughter of the mob, who ran to their rescue. They were helped to their feet, and a reconciliation was signed and sealed by copious draughts of saki.
The inn was thronged, and the maids were beside themselves with such an overflow of custom.
Just then an old man, leading a girl by the hand, contrived to stop a waitress as she passed, and catch her by the sleeve.
"I want to speak to the master of this establishment," he said.
"You choose your time well," said the girl, with a roar of laughter.
By a sudden movement she freed herself, and was gone before the old man could add another word.
"I will wait," said he.
A cask of saki was staved in, and the jolly drinkers talked and laughed noisily.
But all at once silence fell upon them; the shrill sound of a flute and the music of a stringed instrument were heard. The sounds came from the rooms above.
"Listen! listen!" was the general cry.
Some of the passers stopped to hear. The sound of a woman's voice was heard. The words of the song were clearly audible:—
"When Iza-Na-Gui descended to earth, his companion, Iza-Na-Mi, met him in a garden."'How delightful to meet such a handsome young man!' she exclaimed."But the God, in displeasure, replied: 'It is not fitting for the woman to speak first; meet me again.'"They parted, and they met each other once more."'How agreeable to meet such a lovely girl!' said Iza-Na-Gui."Which of the two spoke first?'"
"When Iza-Na-Gui descended to earth, his companion, Iza-Na-Mi, met him in a garden.
"'How delightful to meet such a handsome young man!' she exclaimed.
"But the God, in displeasure, replied: 'It is not fitting for the woman to speak first; meet me again.'
"They parted, and they met each other once more.
"'How agreeable to meet such a lovely girl!' said Iza-Na-Gui.
"Which of the two spoke first?'"
The voice ceased; the accompaniment went on for a few moments more.
A discussion ensued among the drinkers; they replied to the question asked by the singer.
"Of course the God was saluted first," said some.
"No, no! It was the Goddess!" shouted others. "The will of the God cancelled the first salutation."
"Did he cancel it?"
"To be sure I to be sure! They began again, as if nothing had ever happened."
"Which does not annul what had occurred; and so the woman spoke first."
The argument threatened to wax warm; but all ended by a larger number of cups being emptied. Soon the throng thinned off, and the tavern grew quiet again.
A servant woman then noticed the old man leaning against an upright post, and still holding the young girl by the hand.
"Do you want a cup of tea or saki?" asked the woman.
"I wish to speak to the keeper of the tea-house," answered the man.
The servant looked at the old man. His head was covered with a large hat of woven reeds, like the cover of a round basket; his costume, much worn, was of brown cotton. He held in his hand a fan, on which was marked the road from Yeddo to Osaka, the distance from one village to another, the number and importance of the inns, etc. The woman then examined the young girl. She was shabbily dressed. Her robe, of faded blue, was torn and dirty; a fragment of white stuff twisted about her head partially concealed her face. She leaned on a black-and-red paper parasol, torn in various places; but she was strangely beautiful and graceful.
"Have you come to make a sale?" asked the maid of the inn.
The old man made a sign that he had.
"I will tell the master."
She went off, and soon returned. The master followed her.
He was a man of repulsive plainness. His little squinting black eyes were scarcely visible between the narrow fissure of his absurdly wrinkled eyelids; his mouth, widely removed from his long, thin nose, destitute of teeth and adorned with a few stiff sparse hairs, gave a sly and mean expression to his pock-marked countenance.
"You want to get rid of that young woman?" said he, rolling one eyeball, while the other one disappeared round the corner of his nose.
"To get rid of my child!" screamed the old man. "I only consent to part from her to protect her from misery and want."
"Unfortunately I have more women now than I need; and they are every one of them quite as pretty as she is. My house is entirely full."
"I will look elsewhere," said the old man, making a pretence of going.
"Don't be in such a hurry," said the landlord; "if your demands are not too extravagant, perhaps we can come to terms."
He made the man a sign to follow him into the entrance hall from which he had just come; this hall looked out on a garden, and was quite empty.
"What can your girl do, I say?" asked the frightful squint-eyed fellow.
"She can embroider, she can sing, and play on several instruments; she can even compose a quatrain at a pinch."
"Ah-ha! is that so? And how much do you want for her?"
"Four kobangs."
The innkeeper was about to exclaim, "No more!" but he restrained himself.
"That's exactly what I was going to offer you," said he.
"Well, it's a bargain," said the old man; "I hire her to you to do whatever you bid her, for a term of twenty years."
The buyer hurriedly brought brushes and a roll of paper, and drew up a bill of sale, which the old man readily signed.
The young girl meantime stood like a statue; she did not waste a look on the old man, who pretended to wipe away a tear as he pocketed the kobangs.
Before leaving, he bent towards the innkeeper's ear and whispered: "Keep your eye on her; watch her well; she will try to escape."
Then he quitted the Day-Break Tea-house; and whoever saw him, as he turned the corner of the street, change his pace, rubbing his hands and outstepping the nimblest, might well have suspected the reality of his old age and his white beard.
The Prince of Nagato lay stretched upon a black satin mattress, one elbow buried in a cushion and the other arm held out to a doctor crouching beside him. The doctor was feeling his pulse.
At the Prince's bedside, Fide-Yori, seated on a pile of mats, fixed an anxious look upon the wrinkled but impenetrable face of the physician. An enormous pair of spectacles, with round black-rimmed glasses, lent a comical expression to the grave face of the worthy man of science.
Near the entrance of the room knelt Loo, his forehead touching the floor, in honor of the King's presence. He amused himself by counting the silver threads in the fringe of the carpet.
"The danger is over," said the doctor at last; "the wounds have closed; and still the fever continues, for some reason which I cannot understand."
"I will explain it to you," said the Prince, eagerly drawing back his arm; "it is my impatience at being nailed to this bed, and forbidden to enjoy the open air."
"What, friend!" said the Shogun, "when I myself come hither to share your captivity, are you so impatient to be free?"
"You know very well, dear lord, that it is for your affairs that I am so anxious to be up and doing; the departure of the embassy which you are sending to Kioto cannot be indefinitely delayed."
"Why did you ask me as a special favor to make you chief of that embassy?"
"Is it not my delight to serve you?"
"That is not your only motive," said Fide-Yori with a smile.
"You allude to my supposed love for Fatkoura," thought Nagato, smiling in his turn.
"If the Prince is reasonable, if he gives up this over-excitement which exhausts him, he may start in three days," said the doctor.
"Thanks!" cried Nagato; "that news is better than all your drugs."
"My drugs are not to be despised," said the doctor; "and you must take the one which I will send you presently."
Then he bowed low to the King and his noble patient, and retired.
"Ah!" exclaimed Fide-Yori when he was alone with his friend, "your impatience to be off proves to me that I am not mistaken. You are in love, Iwakura; you are beloved; you are happy!" And he heaved a deep sigh.
The Prince looked at him, surprised at this sigh, and expecting a confidence; but the young man blushed slightly, and changed the conversation.
"You see," said he, opening a volume which he held on his knee, "I am studying the book of the laws; I am looking to see if it does not need softening and altering."
"It contains one article which I would advise you to suppress," said Nagato.
"Which?"
"That which treats of mutual suicide for love."
"How does it run?" said Fide-Yori, turning over the leaves. "Ah! here it is:—
"'If two lovers swear to die together, and commit hara-kiri, their bodies shall be handed over to the officers of justice. If one of them be not mortally wounded, he or she is to be treated as the murderer of the other. If both survive the attempt, they shall be ranked as reprobates.'"
"'If two lovers swear to die together, and commit hara-kiri, their bodies shall be handed over to the officers of justice. If one of them be not mortally wounded, he or she is to be treated as the murderer of the other. If both survive the attempt, they shall be ranked as reprobates.'"
"That is shameful," said Nagato; "hasn't one a right to escape by death from a grief too heavy to be endured?"
"There is a religion which says not," murmured Fide-Yori.
"That of the European bonzes! That whose doctrines public rumor says you have accepted," said Nagato, striving to read his friend's face.
"I have studied that creed, Iwakura," said the Shogun. "It is pure and impressive, and the priests who teach it seem full of abnegation. While our bonzes think of nothing but making money, they scorn wealth. And then, you see, I cannot forget the terrible scene which I once witnessed, nor the sublime courage of the Christians as they submitted to the horrible tortures which my father ordered to be inflicted on them. I was a child then. I was taken to see them executed, to teach me, so my guardians said, how such creatures should be treated. It was near Nangasáki, on the hill. That nightmare will never cease to trouble my dreams. Crosses were planted on the slope so thickly that the hill seemed covered with a forest of dead trees. Among the victims, whose noses and ears had all been cut off, walked three little children,—I seem to see them still,—disfigured and bleeding, but revealing a strange courage in the face of death. All the poor wretches were fastened to the crosses, and their bodies were pierced with lances; the blood ran in streams. The victims made no outcry; as they died, they prayed that Heaven would pardon their executioners. The spectators uttered frightful shrieks, and I, overcome by terror, screamed with them, and hid my face on the breast of the Prince of Mayada, who held me in his arms. Soon, in spite of the soldiers, who beat them back and struck at them with their lances, those who witnessed that dreadful scene rushed up the hill to wrangle for some relic of those martyrs, whom they left naked on their crosses." As he spoke, the Shogun continued to turn over the pages of his book.
"Exactly," he said, with a movement of horror; "here is the very edict pronounced by my father when he commanded the massacre:—
"'I, Taiko-Sama, devote these men to death, because they come to Japan, calling themselves ambassadors, although they are not so; because they remain in my domains without my leave, and preach the law of the Christians, contrary to my commands. I decree that they shall be crucified at Nangasáki.'"
Fide-Yori tore out this and several ensuing pages, containing laws against the Christians.
"I have found what I wanted to expunge," he said.
"You do well, master, to spread your protecting arm over those mild and inoffensive men," said Nagato; "but beware lest the report which spreads from mouth to mouth, and accuses you of being a Christian, take shape, and your enemies use it against you."
"You are right, friend; I will wait till my power is firmly established, to declare my sentiments, and atone, as far as may be, for the blood spilled before my very eyes. But I must leave you, dear invalid; you are growing tired, and the doctor ordered you to rest. Be patient; you are nearly cured."
The Shogun left the room with an affectionate glance at his friend. No sooner had he gone, than Loo sprang up; he yawned, stretched himself, and made a thousand grimaces.
"Come, Loo!" said the Prince, "run out into the gardens for a little while; but don't throw stones at the gazelles, or frighten my Muscovy ducks."
Loo hastened away.
When he was alone, the Prince drew quickly from under his mattress a letter wrapped in green satin; he placed it on his pillow, leaned his cheek against it, and closed his eyes to sleep.
This letter was the one given him by the Kisaki; he preserved it as a precious treasure, and his only joy was to inhale its faint perfume. But, to his great distress, it had seemed to him, for some days past, as if the perfume were evaporating; perhaps, accustomed to inhale it, he did not notice it so strongly.
Suddenly the Prince rose up; he remembered that inside the envelope this subtle and delicious perfume would doubtless be better preserved. He broke the seal, which he had not hitherto touched, thinking that the envelope was empty; but to his great surprise he drew out a paper covered with written characters.
He uttered a cry and tried to read, but in vain. A red veil shimmered before his eyes; there was a buzzing in his ears; he feared lest he should faint, and rested his head on the pillow. He, however, succeeded in calming himself, and again looked at the writing. It was an elegantly worded quatrain. The Prince read it with indescribable emotion:—
"Two flowers bloomed on the banks of a stream. But, alas! the stream divided them."In each corolla lay a drop of dew, the shining spirit of the flower."Upon one of them the sun fell; he made it sparkle. But she thought: Why am I not on the other bank?"One day these flowers hung their heads to die. They let fall their luminous soul like a diamond. Then the two drops of dew met at last, and were mingled in the stream."
"Two flowers bloomed on the banks of a stream. But, alas! the stream divided them.
"In each corolla lay a drop of dew, the shining spirit of the flower.
"Upon one of them the sun fell; he made it sparkle. But she thought: Why am I not on the other bank?
"One day these flowers hung their heads to die. They let fall their luminous soul like a diamond. Then the two drops of dew met at last, and were mingled in the stream."
"She gives me a tryst," cried the Prince, "farther away, later on, in another life. Then she has guessed my love! She loves me, then! O Death! can you not hasten? Can you not bring nearer the celestial hour of our reunion?"
The Prince may have thought his wishes granted; for, falling back on his cushions, he lost consciousness.
In a delightful landscape in the midst of a thick wood stands the summer residence of the Kisaki, with its pretty roofs of gilded bark. The thick foliage of the lofty trees seemed loath to make way for those glittering house-tops, which projected on every side of the palace, shading a broad veranda, whose floor was covered with carpets, and strewn with silk and satin cushions worked in gold.
The prospect is not extensive, and the dwelling seems shut in by cool green vegetation. Emerald reeds flaunt their slender leaves like banners on the breeze, uprearing silvery, flaky plumes. Orange-bushes bloom beside tall bamboos, and mingle their sweet-scented flowers with the red blossoms of the wild cherry. Farther away, large camelias climb the trees; at their feet big red leaves, covered with light down, unfold beside tall heaths, so delicate, so airy, that they look like tufts of green feathers. Above this first plane of verdure, palms, bananas, oaks, and cedars interlace their branches and form an inextricable network, through which the light filters, tinged with a thousand varying hues.
A brook glides slowly over a bed of thick moss, and its crystal stream is slightly troubled by a water-hen of lovely plumage, who just ruffles it with her wings as she chases a dragon-fly, whose slim body flashes forth metallic reflections.
But more brilliant and more splendid than the flowers, the velvety moss, or the silvery shadows on the stream, are the dresses of the women who sit on the veranda.
The Kisaki, surrounded by her favorite ladies and a few young lords, the noblest of the Court, is witnessing a quail-fight.
On account of the heat, the sovereign wears a light robe of pigeon-colored silk gauze,—a shade of green which she alone has the right to use. In place of the three plates of gold which form her crown, she has arranged in her hair three daisies with silver leaves. Over her left ear, from the head of a long pin buried in her hair, hangs, at the end of a slender gold chain, a huge pearl of rare beauty and perfect shape.
Two young boys, in costumes differing only in color, crouch upon their heels, face to face, watching the contest between the pretty birds, ready to pick up the dead and bring forward fresh combatants.
"How little chance of winning I have," said a lord with an intellectual cast of countenance, "I, who dared to bet against my Queen!"
"You are the only one who was so bold, Simabara," said the Kisaki; "but if you win, I am sure that every one will bet against me in the next fight."
"He is likely to triumph," said the Prince of Tsusima, husband of the beautiful Iza-Farou-No-Kami.
"What!" cried the Kisaki, "have I so nearly lost?"
"See, your champion weakens!"
"Courage! one more effort! courage, little warrior!" said the Queen.
The quails, with bristling feathers and neck outstretched, paused for a moment, gazing motionless, each at the other, then sprang to the attack again; one of them fell.
"Ah! all is over," cried the Queen, rising to her feet; "the bird is dead! Simabara has won."
Young girls now handed about sweetmeats and delicacies of various kinds, with tea gathered on the neighboring mountains; and the sports ceased for a time.
Then a page approached the Kisaki, and told her that a messenger had been waiting for some moments with news from the palace.
"Let him enter," said the sovereign.
The messenger advanced, and prostrated himself.
"Speak," said the Kisaki.
"Light of the World!" said the man, "the embassy from the Shogun has arrived."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Kisaki. "And who are the princes that compose it?"
"The Princes of Nagato, Satsuma, Ouesougi, and Satake."
"It is well!" said the Kisaki, dismissing the messenger by a sign. "These gentlemen will weary of waiting for an audience," she continued, addressing the princes grouped about her. "The Mikado, my divine master, is at the summer-palace with all his wives and his Court; the Dairi is almost deserted. Tsusima, go, seek out these princes, and conduct them hither; they shall share our sports. Let pavilions be prepared for them within the limits of the residence," she added, turning to her women.
Her orders were transmitted to the interior of the house, and the Prince of Tsusima, bowing profoundly, withdrew.
The Dairi was not more than half-an-hour's journey away from the summer-palace, so that an hour was all-sufficient time to go and come.
"Prepare a fresh combat," said Kisaki. The fowlers cried aloud the names of the combatants:
"Gold Spur!"
"Rival of Lightning!"
"Gold Spur is a stranger," said the sovereign. "I will bet on Rival of Lightning; I consider him matchless: he killed Coral Beak, who had slaughtered untold adversaries."
All the spectators followed the Queen's example.
"If that is so," she cried, laughing, "I will bet alone against you all; I will join myself to the fortunes of Gold Spur."
The struggle began. Rival of Lightning rushed forward with the speed which had won him his name. Usually, he disabled his foe at the first onslaught; but now he fell back, leaving a few feathers in his antagonist's beak, the latter being untouched.
"Well done! well done!" was the shout on every side. "Gold Spur begins wonderfully well!"
Some of the noblemen squatted on their heels, to follow the fight more closely.
The birds closed for the second time. But nothing was to be seen except a confused heap of quivering plumes; then Rival of Lightning fell with bleeding head, and Gold Spur proudly placed one foot upon the body of his conquered enemy.
"Victory!" cried the Kisaki, clapping her small milk-white hands. "Gold Spur is the monarch of the day; to him belongs the prize collar."
One of the princesses fetched a black lacquer box containing a gold ring set with rubies and coral, from which hung a tiny crystal bell.
The victor was brought to the Queen, who, taking the ring in two fingers, put it round the bird's neck.
Other fights followed; but the Kisaki, strangely absent-minded, paid little heed to them. She listened to the myriad noises of the forest, and seemed annoyed by the babbling of the brook, which prevented her hearing distinctly a very faint and far-off sound. It might have been the slight clash of swords thrust into a noble's girdle, the crunching of the sand on one of the paths beneath the tread of approaching guests, or the sudden snap of a fan rapidly opened and shut.
An insect, a passing bird, drowned this almost imperceptible sound. However it soon grew louder; everybody heard it. Cheerful voices were mingled with it.
"Here come the ambassadors!" said Simabara.
Soon after, they heard the clang of arms, as the Princes laid off their weapons before appearing in the sovereign's presence.
Tsusima came forward from the interior of the house and announced the noble envoys, who appeared in their turn, and prostrated themselves before the Kisaki.
"Rise!" said the young woman hastily, "and learn the laws which govern our little Court of Flowers. Ceremonious etiquette is banished from it; I am regarded as an elder sister. Every one is free and at ease, and has no duty, but to devise fresh diversions. The watchword here is mirth."
The lords rose; they were soon surrounded, and questioned in regard to recent events at Osaka. The Kisaki cast a rapid glance at the Prince of Nagato. She was struck by the look of weakness imprinted upon the young man's whole frame; but she surprised in his eyes a strange gleam of pride and joy.
"He has read the verses that I gave him," she thought. "How foolish I was to write what I did!"
Still, she signed to him to approach.
"Rash man!" she cried, "why did you undertake a journey when you are still so weak and ill?"
"You deigned to protect my life, divine Queen," said the Prince; "could I longer delay coming to testify my humble gratitude?"
"It is true that my foresight saved you from death, but it did not succeed in preserving you from frightful wounds," said the Queen. "It seems as if all your blood had flowed from your veins; you are as pale as these jasmine-flowers."
She showed him a blossoming spray which she held in her hand.
"You must have suffered greatly," she added.
"Ah! dare I confess to you," cried Nagato, "that to me physical suffering is a comfort? There is another and far more painful wound,—that which is killing me, which leaves me no rest or peace."
"What!" said the Kisaki, disguising her profound emotion with a smile, "is this the way that you obey my wishes? Did you not hear me say that gayety reigns here? Speak no more of death or sorrow; let your soul unbend beneath the balmy breath of this beautiful and invigorating scene. You shall pass some days here; you shall see what a rural and delightful life we lead in this retreat. We rival in simplicity our ancestors, the shepherds, who first pitched their tents on this soil. Iza-Farou," she continued, addressing the Princess, who passed before the house just then, "I should like to hear a story; call our companions, and put an end to their political debates."