SAMPEI DONO
He was poor; coarsely and scantily clad as he came on his return through
the darkness and snowflakes now coming down wet and moist, whirling and
twisting under the increasing gale and gradually turning into a
penetrating chilling sleet against which the straw raincoat was poor
protection. In this guise Wataru Sampei was the gardener, making a
precarious living at which his skill was accidental and vicarious. In
his shabby home he was the _samurai_, his two swords treasured,
carefully wrapped and put away in the closet; struggling to live in
order to bring up this boy Jumatsu in his own cult, to better times and
retribution on the upstarts from the South. This night too had been part
of his _samurai's_ duty, in its _sankei_ or pilgrimage to the Asakusa
Kwannon. O'Kiku believed in efficacy of prayer to the goddess of mercy.
A hasty word, implied rather than spoken, as to a passer by during the
first sight of her, and the gesture of acquiescence on his part who had
little faith. But the gesture was as strong in its obligation as an oath
written and signed in blood.
On approaching his home with surprise he noted a woman by the door. She
seemed to be in the act of coming or going. Surely he could not mistake
that figure; nay, throwing the light of his lantern ahead a glimpse of
the white wan face startled him. His heart leaped within him--"Is it
Kiku? How comes the wife here at this hour? How has exit from the
_yashiki_ been permitted?" But the woman answered not. Instead she moved
away from him, into the darkness. More and more astonished Sampei called
after her and followed. Always she eluded him. Thus he was led away two
hundred, three hundred yards. There she was, halted beneath the willow
tree on the river bank. His pace broke into a run. Now she did not move
or attempt to elude him, but as he came up the figure was but a stela to
point the way to a near-by shrine. Sampei passed his hand over his brow.
Kiku was too much on his mind; this forced widowerhood with charge of a
toddling boy. Ah! If pity and affection would but allow him to transfer
the child to others! Better would it be for both. But how face the
mother without the child--and then, the lot of one's favoured child in
the house of strangers and under their cold glances? Sampei himself
could not part with Jumatsu. Easy was it for him to cut belly--and leave
mother and child in this desolate condition. Meanwhile his uneasiness of
mind at their present outlook was driving him to delusions.
Taking off his wet outer garments he stole into the bedroom. Now it was
very late in the night; he would not disturb the child. To his surprise
he found him sitting up on the quilts, shivering and weeping.
"Bo[u]chan! What's gone wrong?" He took the child's hands, anxious to
note any sign of distress or fever. But Jumatsu made answer in his
turn--"Mother has just been here. She was crying. She said--'Bo[u], the
parting is for long. Never again will the mother be seen. Grow up,
Bo[u]; grow up to be a fine man.' Then she cried more than ever." A hand
seemed to grasp the heart of Sampei--"Mother here, Bo[u]chan!" Surely
the child could not lie, even make up the story at this age, so fitting
into his own uneasy vision. Continued the little fellow mid his
tears--"It was not her fault. Someone broke the holly hock plate and
charged mother with the crime. Then the Tono Sama killed her. He wanted
her for his concubine; and so came to hate her and easily took the tale.
It was not her fault. She said this--then went away."--"Whither?"
Sampei's tone was so abrupt and harsh to startle the child into
quiescence. He pointed to the house altar on its stand--"Mother just
went away; into the Butsudan.... And she hasn't come back--to
Bo[u]chan." He ended in a wail and childish weeping. Ah! The hands now
grasping at Sampei were of ice. Slowly he approached the Butsudan.
Startled he saw the snow within it. This wild tale was taking the hold
of certainty on his mind. He lit first one light, then the other in the
altar stand. Then sharply of itself rang the little bell. A cold sweat
stood out on Sampei's body--"Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!"
Earnest the prayer for some departed soul. Unconvinced, yet feeling the
truth of the impression he passed the night with eyes wide open. With
dawn he would go forth to make inquiries at the Bancho[u] _yashiki_.
This would be the fifteenth day. Anyhow Kiku would be expecting him.
He set out early, carrying the boy on his back. Humbly and with
experience of such places he approached the gateman. "An inquiry to
make."--"What is it?"--"At this _yashiki_ is there not a woman
labouring, one O'Kiku?" The man eyed him with the contemptuous tolerance
of him who knows--"Woman labouring? In the _yashiki_ there are two score
and more. Of Kiku more than one; although those of the men's quarters
have nothing to do with such matters. Perhaps the slave girl Kiku is
intended.... See her! Good fellow, are you mad? One under condemnation
is not to be seen.... You have come far? Even if you had come from
O[u]shu[u] or Kyu[u]shu[u] you could not see her.... But all the way
from Honjo[u]; it's too bad." The man looked at him with more
benevolence. After all he had some heart, and many distressed people
came to this _yashiki_; entered into it. "Are you thirsty?... No? In
that case entrance there is none; although the water of the well in the
_yashiki_ is said to be superior to all other, sovereign to cure
thirst.... Ah! You have been dying with thirst all night. Your tongue
cleaves to the roof of the mouth. Then the case is altered. For the
silver thanks are felt. Just enter. Perhaps some maid will come to the
well to draw water. Perhaps this Kiku herself. One so ready--of
tongue--can easily excuse his presence and this Yo[u]zaémon, if there be
question."
With humble thanks and joy Sampei followed the instructions. The well
was at the corner of the larger paved space and from it he could see
into the inner garden and the greater privacy of the establishment. Here
he could note more life at this early hour, and even the stir of
excitement. People were running to and fro as under some unusual
stimulus. Slowly he drank, delayed as long as he could, unnoticed and
unquestioned. He could not thus act too long. Indeed as he moved off a
foot soldier (_ashigaru_) passing asked his business. He gave excuse as
on mission to a servant, whose name he picked up from one just gone by.
As the man had taken a message outside his answer was a safe one.
Sharply the _ashigaru_ repeated the fact of absence, and Sampei had no
excuse not to leave. The excitement now was spreading to the front
quarters of the _yashiki_. Fragments of talk showed him that his visit
was most inopportune. Her ladyship had just died, and the household was
in a buzz. When he would again speak to the gateman, the functionary's
manner did not encourage it, Sampei took the hint of his cold
unrecognizing eye and bowed in humble acknowledgment to all in going out
the gate. "Chu[u]dayu Dono--where is Aikawa Sama to be found?"--"The
honoured chamberlain? He left the _yashiki_ last night in the other
watch. There has been no return during this of Yozaémon." So much he
caught in passing.
Slowly Sampei passed down the Gomizaka and along the moat of the castle.
It was with greatest reluctance he left this place. The child began to
whimper. "_Otosan_ (father), this Jumatsu is hungry." The little
fellow's whimper turned to genuine tears. The father heartened him. Just
ahead, on the Kudanzaka, all that should be remedied. Of the number of
small shops Sampei noted the sign of the Kikkyo[u]ya--the House of the
Full Well Bucket. Bending under the curtain strips hanging at the front
he entered the cook shop. "Deign to come up here.... For food? Of the
best: clam soup, a stew of vegetables and fish, hot boiled _to[u]fu_ ...
and _saké_, none better." The place did not promise much despite the
advertisement. Avoiding the doubtful stew Sampei ordered wine for
himself and hot boiled bean paste (_to[u]fu_) for Jumatsu. As he fed the
child, and at opportunity sipped his wine, a blind shampooer entered; in
this tiny place to take a seat close by. Apparently he was well known
thereabouts. In bringing wine the host sat down beside him to
talk--almost into the ear of Sampei.--"Toku no Ichi San, you are early
abroad. Does illness or luxurious idleness summon the honoured _Amma
San_ to the couch?... But yourself, you do not look well. Work late
into the night goes not with early rising. This is going to excess." The
man coughed and drank, turned his sightless eyes on Sampei. What he said
made this latter all attention.
"It is no early call brings out this Ichibei. Ah! What a night this
last!"--"Truly so," replied the matter of fact host. "And no sign of the
storm's cessation." He looked out for a moment on the flakes of snow,
again coming down thick and heavy. "Drink your wine, Ichibei Dono. In
truth you are as white as yonder falling flakes which you do not see.
And 'tis said your kind cannot see ghosts."--"See them; no. To those
whose eyes are darkened by the night of blindness the gods have granted
grace against such visions. But alas! Other faculties have been
sharpened. He who cannot see, can hear. Listen Jiro[u]bei San. Last
night this Ichibei was called to the _yashiki_ of O[u]kubo Sama. The
_okugata_ was in pain and needed his treatment for the limbs. It is a
kindly house, one good to go to. The storm kept Ichibei in the
_yashiki_: Food and the mat was granted, for his lordship would not send
a cur, once granted shelter, out into storm and darkness. But next door
it is very different. Here is the _yashiki_ of Aoyama Shu[u]zen
Sama--the Yakujin of Edo. Jiro[u]bei San knows of him. His lordship took
the _yashiki_ for the old well of the Yoshida Goten. 'Tis said at nights
he takes wine and pipe, sits by the well, and in his hardiness and
defiance of weather and season challenges the ghosts to appear. Last
night.... Ah! The scene rung into the ears appears before the eyes even
of the blind. It was the sound of blows--as of a wet cloth striking bare
flesh. A woman plead for mercy. 'Vile wench.... Kiku.' These words were
heard. Then such a scream--'Kiya!' as of rending silk--that yet it rings
into the ears of this Ichibei; to banish sleep and peace of mind for the
rest of the night. What could it be? Had the ghosts appeared? Or had
some maid displeased the Tono Sama, and hence suffered death at his hand
(_te-uchi_)? He is not one to spare suffering.... Ah! How she suffered!
All night Ichibei has lain awake and suffered with her. It seems as if
her cry never would depart from these ears. With dawn I fled--without
food, and doubtless to the astonishment of all. Feeling faint, your
shop offered refreshment."--"Another bottle?... O'Kabé! At once: for
Toku no Ichi San.... Honoured guest, thanks. Deign again the honoured
patronage. Sixty _mon_ the price, _sayonara_."
Sampei paid the scot, and with Jumatsu carefully wrapped up against the
storm passed out into the open air. Now he was himself again; the
_samurai_ of Kai, with the old traditions of his province and his
liegeship to the great Takéda House. Against this Aoyama double was the
vendetta--for Jinnai, for his wife Kiku. His ears had drunk in the
convincing tale of the blind shampooer. His decision was as ready. His
steps now were bent to the Miuraya in the Yoshiwara. At his name the
_banto[u]_ expressed surprise. "The _oiran_ was about to send a message;
most opportune the honoured coming. Deign for the moment to wait."
Related to their great attraction Sampei had every attention. Shortly
the sound of _zo[u]ri_ was heard, and O'Yui entered the room. Jumatsu
viewed her beauty and splendour with grave approval, astonishment, and
fear. "Obasan (auntie)? But she is young; beautiful, just like mother.
Oh! Just like the pictures of the great Tayu." The two elders listened,
preoccupied and with pained smile. "What book; and where seen?... Oya!
Oya! In the priest's room at the Fukuganji? That should not be. Priest
and _oiran_ are not of kin." O'Yui's laugh was so silvery that Jumatsu
in admiration pressed close to her knee. Clasping him she spoke to
Sampei. Ah! How great was her anxiety. As she told her tale the heart of
Sampei was filled with wrath and certainty--"This Chu[u]dayu is such a
strange fellow. The weather still holds him to the place. Hence by good
luck it was possible to ask for a consultation. Has not some injury
befallen the person of Ne[e]san? The ravings of this man in his drunken
sleep, the vision of the sister, the face and garments all dyed with
blood, cannot these find confirmation or disproof? In the embrace of
this man Yui shudders." She wept.
With growing weight and terror at heart she noted the increasing gloom
of Sampei's face. "Kiku is no longer of this world. It is true. Herself
she told the tale to Jumatsu. At the _yashiki_ all is confusion with the
death of the lady of the House. By accident Jumatsu's vision is
corroborated by the blind shampooer, led into the cook shop of Kudanzaka
by the same hand which led Chu[u]dayu to the arms of the _oiran_ O'Yodo.
The evidence is complete for this Sampei. To-night--at the first
opportunity--Sampei kills this Aoyama Shu[u]zen; then cuts belly. As for
Chu[u]dayu, Kiku has brought him to O'Yui San. Deign to accept the
charge. Last night he has been the lover, and the chance of the weather
and the charms of O'Yui have kept him here. Let the coming night be his
last." He put a restraining hand on the sleeve of O'Yui. In vengeance at
once she would have rushed off to poniard this obscene fellow. Be once
more the object of his embraces? Alas! Hers indeed was "the bitter
toil," which led her to the arms of this scoundrel dripping with a
sister's blood. But she listened to the cold and cautious counsel of
Sampei, and nodded comprehension and assent. When she re-entered the
room where Chu[u]dayu was drinking and roistering there was not a sign
of any emotion. Once again she was the harlot, to charm and inveigle him
into remaining with her. Ha! Ha! The gods had granted his prayer. "Kiku?
She was a beauty--and the impression of childhood would be corroborated
by her later appearance. But even thus she is a faded old woman to the
honoured _oiran_. A bag of bones!" He roared with drunken laughter; and
O'Yui fingered the handle of the dagger in her bosom, in frenzy at the
vile jest. "Come now! Kiku has been the object of Chu[u]dayu's love. He
confesses it. But now--away with such an O'Baké. He seeks the greater
solace of O'Yodo's arms." The wine nearly choked him. His eyes stood
out. He gasped and choked. Anxiously the _oiran_ nursed him back to
breath.
Late that night he had gone to bed very drunk. The ninth hour struck (1
A.M.). O'Yodo, who had sought temporary excuse, entered. Chu[u]dayu again
was dreaming, horribly. Ah! This vision would never pass. O'Kiku was
standing by him. At first faint, then loud came the voice, and Chu[u]dayu
counted with her--"One"--"One"--"Two"--"Two"--"Three"--"Three".... On
went the count. Now she was astride of him, pressing him down, throttling
him. "O'Kiku Dono! It was not Chu[u]dayu. The treachery was his; but the
Tono Sama gave the blow." He writhed and struggled in his sleep. Then
O'Yui dealt the thrust, straight downward. "Yai! Yai! Ah!" The scream
rang out, startling all around. Alas! A little misdirected the dagger
glanced from the bone and pierced the shoulder. As the man rolled her off
the girl made one desperate effort. Deep she thrust the blade into his
right side, ripped it up and side ways. "Kiya!" Chu[u]dayu staggered and
rolled over, hands to his side to hold in the severed liver and guts.
When she would strike again her hands were held. The bawd (_yarité_),
aroused and passing, saw the shadow of the raised dagger. The _banto[u]_
had come to her aid. While some sought to aid the desperately wounded
man, others drew away O'Yodo, again the woman and overcome with tears of
regret at her failure.
Jinzaémon of the Miuraya questioned her. Was it _shinju[u]_--a mutual
suicide to insure happiness together in the next life? Had she really
known the man before, and not pretended new acquaintance? Then, without
mention of Sampei, she told the story of her vision, her certainty that
inquiry would establish the truth of its accusation. Jinzaémon had no
recourse. The Yoshiwara _bugyo[u]_, with _do[u]shin_, was soon at hand.
"To kill a man on such evidence...." But before applying torture he
would question the victim. Chu[u]dayu's case was hopeless. The liver was
almost severed. Death was but a matter of an hour or two. During that
time his ravings in delirium, his confession in lucid moments, added a
new and momentous phase to the case in corroborating the tale of the
_oiran_ as to the strange vision. The _bugyo[u]_ did not dare to go
further. He must consult those higher in authority. A _hatamoto_ of the
land was involved; one just favoured with appointment as _tsukaiban_
(staff officer) to the suzerain. The _machibugyo[u]_ himself had no
power in this case. Hence the affair--its nature and its proof--must be
submitted to the _waka-toshiyori_, the officer of State in immediate
charge of the _hatamoto_, their control and interests. Meanwhile the
affair must be smothered and strict search made for the recent visitor
Sampei, who had completely disappeared. Jumatsu readily was traced to
the care of the house master (_iyenushi_) at Koumé. His tenant, on plea
of business in Kai, had left the child with him. Thus they went astray,
and thus failed to act. Meanwhile Shinano no Kami at last determined to
send for and question Aoyama Shu[u]zen. The seventh day following the
retribution was reached--to the great enlightenment of these puzzled
magistrates.[33]