The draught was a bitter one for Midzuano Echizen-no kami. He thrust
the death warrant into his bosom, bowed punctiliously to Gengo and
Satsuma, and rose to depart, with the excuse that he must call a
meeting of the Council of Elders to consider the threatened invasion of
the barbarians. Gengo the chamberlain withdrew immediately afterwards,
too puffed with importance to acknowledge the nod of Satsuma.
With the disappearance of the Shogun’s messenger, the alarm and
confusion outside the audience chamber seized upon the _hatamotos_
about us. Giving way to the terror which drove in upon them with the
din of the bells and wild cries from all parts of the _yashiki_, the
guardsmen flung open the screens and rushed out in a panic of fear.
The Daimio rose with stately composure, and signed us to follow him. We
went out, escorted only by our Satsuma swordbearers and the _hatamoto_
official who, as bearer of the Daimio’s sword, had been restrained by
his duty from joining the flight of his fellow-retainers.
The harsh clang of the firebells had now ceased, and the boom of the
temple bells reverberated at less frequent intervals, but the funereal
solemnity of the tolling served only to intensify to highest pitch the
panic effect of the first wild tocsin. To the terrified Japanese it was
the knell of doom for Yedo. Excited _hatamotos_ ran about at random
through the rooms and corridors of the _yashiki_, their faces distorted
with fury and despair, while from the women’s quarters shrill voices
pierced the frail walls of the palace with shrieks of terror. With fear
run riot in the _yashiki_ of the High Court, what must be the panic
beyond the moats of the official quarter, among the million denizens of
the lower city!
In the midst of the wild flurry a scowling _hatamoto_ rushed at me,
with furious imprecations. But as his blade flashed out Yoritomo flung
me headlong away from the stroke, and my Satsuma swordbearer rushed to
my defence. My assailant barely saved his head by a dexterous parry.
Before he could strike in turn, the Daimio’s swordbearer called out
a sharp command. At the voice of his superior officer, the assassin
leaped back and sheathed his sword. My defender looked to his lord.
Satsuma frowned at the _hatamoto_, and said sternly: “So great an
insult cannot be endured even in the _yashiki_ of the High Court.”
“No!” I cried, springing up between the man and the blade that circled
to cut him down. The Satsuma man checked his stroke in mid-air.
“Sheathe your sword!” I commanded. “The _hatamoto_ attacked me because
of mistaken loyalty. Let the _samurais_ of Nippon learn that my
countrymen come in peace and friendship, not to kill or conquer.”
The _hatamoto_ dropped on his knees and kowtowed to me. But Satsuma
shook his head doubtfully and signed to the swordbearers. “We will
prepare against other efforts of mistaken loyalty.”
The bearers handed over our swords, and we passed on out to the
portico. The courtyard was crowded with shouting _hatamotos_. But the
Satsuma men of our cortege stood as we had left them, too sternly
intent upon their duty to give way to the general fear and flurry. At
a word from the Daimio, the nets that had been used on the _norimons_
of Yoritomo and myself were flung aside. We seated ourselves, and the
procession left the _yashiki_ with all its usual stateliness of parade,
though at a quickened pace.
A few yards beyond the gateway Yuki was kneeling at the edge of the
street-moat to watch us pass. I saw him lean forward and stare at our
_norimons_, then relax and sit back on his heels. He had perceived from
the strain upon our bearers that our _norimons_ were occupied. Turning
a corner some distance beyond, I looked back and saw the _ronin_
walking after the rear of the procession, with a woman close behind him.
The streets of the official quarter swarmed with _hatamotos_ and the
_samurais_ of various _daimios_, rushing about, afoot or mounted, some
without aim or purpose, others racing with all possible speed and
directness to fulfil the commands of their lords. In the midst of the
turmoil a captain of the palace guard galloped up to the procession
with an order for Satsuma to wait upon the Shogun. The Daimio
immediately detached a number of his retainers to escort us to Owari
Yashiki, and ordered the cortege back to the Sakaruda Gate, which had
just been passed.
The sun was setting as we advanced again along the great causeway,
skirting the well-remembered scarp of the citadel moat. This time,
however, my attention was directed, not towards the moat and the mighty
rampart on the far side, but to my left, whence sounded the wild din
and turmoil of a city in panic.
We swung up a slope. From the crest, far away to the west-southwest, I
caught sight of Fuji-yama’s grand cone rising in purple majesty through
the twilight, while to the southward the dark sky was streaked with
upshooting red and blue meteors,--the signal rockets sent up from every
headland along the bay shores. Not Yedo alone was panic-stricken.
In vain I strained my eyes to discern the glimmer of ship lights on
the vast stretch of the gulf. But it was easy to imagine the majestic
sight of the great steam frigates _Susquehanna_ and _Mississippi_ lying
at anchor with their consorts, in the lower bay. I pictured the tiers
of gunports triced open for action, and the grim guns lurking within,
charged and shotted against treacherous attack. For a moment I felt a
pang of longing, of home-sickness--but only for a moment. I had cast in
my lot with Yoritomo.
A horseman dashed up the slope after us, and drew rein beside our
party, with a loud command to halt. The Satsuma men came to a sudden
stand. I peered out and saw that the rider was Gengo the court
chamberlain. He caught sight of me between the parted curtains, and
bowed low across the barbed mane of his horse.
“The presence of Woroto Sama is required at the palace,” he called.
At a word from me, my bearers ranged up alongside the other _norimon_,
until I was within arm’s-length of my friend’s out-peering face.
“You heard, Tomo,” I said in English. “What does it mean?”
He fixed a keen gaze upon Gengo, and demanded: “Does the command
include both Woroto Sama and myself?”
Gengo bowed low as he replied: “The honored heir of Owari is still in
mourning. The presence of Woroto Sama is alone required.”
“At once?”
“Woroto Sama should mount his led-horse.”
“You bear a written order?”
“The matter is urgent. Time was lacking to write an order.”
Yoritomo met my expectant look with an anxious frown. “It is hard to
tell, brother,” he answered me in English. “Had he brought a written
command--Yet in all this wild alarm, even the castle must be in a
turmoil. They may want your assurance that the Commodore comes in
peace.”
“Any risk to tell them that!” I cried, and I called to my escort:
“Open! Fetch sandals and my led-horse!”
In the confusion of my quick scramble out of the _norimon_ and into the
high-peaked saddle, some one pressed a little square of paper into my
hand. As I set my feet deep in the huge stirrups, I looked about and
saw Yuki slipping out from among the Satsuma men. Gengo was wheeling
around the other way. My fiery little stallion plunged free from his
grooms, and to gain a better grip of the bridle I thrust Yuki’s note
into my bosom. A moment later and I was racing madly back along the
causeway, with Gengo a length in the lead, yelling for all to clear the
road. After me ran the Satsuma grooms who had charge of my horse.
Down the slope we tore at breakneck speed, through the midst of the
swarming _samurais_. Nimbly as they leaped aside at Gengo’s commands,
we must inevitably have run over more than one, had the roadway been
less broad or the distance greater. A scant minute brought us to the
bridge of the Sakaruda Gate. A _daimio’s_ procession was coming down to
the bridge from the east. Regardless of its standards, we cut in ahead
and galloped across the bridge.
At the gateway Gengo leaped off and ran forward to speak with the gate
warden. The latter entered into a dispute which, though soon settled
by Gengo, gave my grooms time to come panting across the bridge after
us. Gengo hastened back to me, and cried out with imperative urgency:
“Woroto Sama cannot pass unless on foot, yet haste is required!”
I thought it no time for insistence upon dignity. Carried away by the
possibility of persuading the Shogun to receive my countrymen with
cordiality, I sprang off as the Satsuma men grasped my stallion’s
bridle.
“Lead on!” I cried.
He signed to the Satsuma men to return with the stallion. “To your
_yashiki_. A _norimon_ will be provided for the _tojin_ lord,” he
explained, and as the grooms hastened away, he led his own horse
forward to place him in the charge of a palace groom.
The thought flashed upon me that in the heat and excitement of the
panic the sight of my _tojin_ eyes might cause the blades of other
assassins to leap from their scabbards, or at best cause serious delays
in our advance. I squinted my eyes, and followed Gengo with my chin on
my breast. Though the gate watch had been doubled, neither my height
nor the whiteness of my forehead was noticed by the crowd of chattering
_hatamotos_ through which we forced our way under the great gateway,
across the court, and below the inner gateway on the right.
As we issued into a broad plaza within, Gengo turned on his heel. For a
moment I fancied I saw chagrin and bitter disappointment in his narrow
eyes. But then his face shone with the blandest of smiles, and I told
myself I had been deceived by the gathering twilight.
“Woroto Sama is wise to walk humbly,” he whispered. “Let him continue
so, and he will be conducted safely past all these.”
I followed the gesture that took in the hundreds of palace retainers
before us, and replied: “Lead on.”
He turned again and walked swiftly along the edge of an inner moat
of the citadel. I followed through the midst of the guards and other
palace attendants, still unchallenged and unheeded. Presently Gengo led
me across a bridge to a gateway whose guards seemed to have deserted
their post. After pausing to peer about in an odd manner, my guide
hurried me through the gateway with feverish haste. I found myself
in one of the palace gardens. We advanced quickly along a narrow
clean-swept path, between coppices tenanted only by birds, and our
course was so full of irregular twists and turns that I soon lost our
bearings.
After a few minutes we came to a small pagoda-roofed kiosk, or
summer-house, in the midst of a grove of gnarled old cherry trees. It
was the first building I had seen in the garden, though more than once
I had heard voices, which led me to believe that we had passed other
houses. Gengo stopped at the edge of the kiosk veranda, and kowtowed.
“Woroto Sama will be pleased to wait here,” he said.
Before I could reply, he hurried on along the path. Within the toss
of a biscuit, he turned a bend and disappeared. I seated myself on
the edge of the veranda, and waited. About me was the peaceful hush
of the woods with its twittering birds. The turmoil of the terrified
city barely reached me over the treetops. But my mood jarred with this
sylvan quietude. I was burning with impatience to reach the Shogun and
protest the absurdity of the wild panic that had seized upon his people.
I sprang up and paced half way to the next turn and back again,
observing with surprise that objects were still distinctly visible even
in the shadow of the coppice. We had come so quickly from where I had
parted with Yoritomo that a full quarter-hour of twilight yet remained.
Gengo could not miss his way for lack of light. Again I paced towards
the turn and back. As I rounded the kiosk I glanced down the path by
which we had come. At the last bend stood an armored _hatamoto_ with
drawn sword.
My first thought was that the man must be a foreguard of the Shogun. I
waved my hand to him. In the same instant he whirled up his sword, and
called fiercely: “The _tojin_! the _tojin_!--At the kiosk! Upon him!”
“Kill the barbarian! kill! kill!” yelled voices behind him, and as the
leader rushed towards me, other swordsmen charged around the bend after
him, half a score or more in the first bunch.
Between revolver and sword I might possibly have checked and stood
off that number, but still others yelled in the path behind them,--and
there was utmost need to avoid a clash with the Shogun’s retainers. I
turned and ran up the path, hoping to overtake Gengo. The _hatamotos_
redoubled their yells, and dashed after me. I twisted around the turn,
and saw before me, less than a hundred yards away, a number of lancemen
charging to cut off my retreat.
The silent stealth of this rear attack was more appalling than the open
charge of the other party. Had these lancemen come a few seconds sooner
I would have been taken by surprise and pierced by their long shafts
without warning. Even as it was, I had no time for second thought. At
the view-cry of the lancemen, I leaped the hedge of clipped privet on
my right, and plunged straight into the coppice beyond.
Fortunately my sandals were bound on firmly, and the coppice, while
dense enough to screen me after a dozen yards, was of willowy shrubs
that did not catch my loose garments or bar my advance. A louder
outburst of yells told me that the two parties of pursuers had met, and
from the crashing that followed, I knew that they were beating through
the coppice after me in quickly scattering formation. Had I doubled,
they would have run me down in the first minute.
I kept straight on, trusting to the gathering gloom to hide the traces
of my flight, and to the noise of the pursuit to drown the thud of my
iron-shod sandals on the turf. Had the coppice continued I might have
gained enough to slip around one of their flanks and make my way back
by the path, out of the enclosure.
But within fifty yards I burst out of the thicket into an open garden
that lay about a large lotus pond. Upon an island in the centre of the
pond stood a kiosk, approached from the left end of the pond over a
narrow high-arched bridge of bamboo. Beyond, towering high among the
treetops, rose the white roof-crest of a large edifice. Beneath that
crest there was a possibility that I might find a palace official able
and willing to check my pursuers and conduct me to the Shogun.
Without a pause, I dashed across the garden, veering to pass around
the left end of the pond. My pursuers were closer upon me than I
had thought. The leaders, who had been running silently through the
coppice, burst out almost on my heels. The exultant note of their
view-cry sent me clumping down towards the shore of the pond at
redoubled speed.
[Illustration: “IS THIS LOYAL SERVICE?” SHE ASKED]
For a while I gained rapidly on the _hatamotos_, the mass of whom broke
cover soon after their leaders. Their exultant cries changed to furious
imprecations as they perceived that I was outrunning them. But as
I plunged down to the pond bank, a little short of the bridge, I was
dismayed to find that one of the thongs of my right sandal had burst.
A few steps more would find the sandal loose. I could not stop to
refasten it, nor was there time to slash the thongs of both sandals and
run on in stockinged feet.
The high arch of the bridge caught my despairing glance. I swung around
the shore-post and clattered up the sharp ascent to the round of the
arch. The bridge was very narrow. They could approach me no more than
two abreast. I would pick them off at the foot so long as my cartridges
lasted and then do what I might with my sword to sell my life dearly.
As I gained the top of the bridge I saw a woman dart from the far end
into the kiosk. But the foremost of my pursuers were already at the
pond bank, and I whirled about, with drawn revolver, to face them. For
all their fierce eagerness, the sight of the threatening muzzle brought
them to a halt. They had heard of the defeat of the _ronins_. The
leaders checked those who followed, and all gathered at the foot of the
bridge, yelling imprecations at the _tojin_.
“Murderers,” I shouted, “set foot on this bridge, and you die! Your
master the Shogun sent for me. He waits for me now. Go, fetch Gengo the
chamberlain.”
“Liar!--Fetch bowmen instead!” cried one of the leaders of the mob.
“Bowmen and musketeers!” cried another.
“Down with the bridge!” yelled a third leader.
The response was instant. A dozen men caught up the cry and sprang into
the pond to hack at the frail supports of the bridge with their swords.
I sighted my revolver at the foremost. But before I could fire, several
pointed up and cried to their fellows: “Hold! hold!”
A moment later all were kneeling, even those in the shallow water of
the pond. Something brushed softly against my sleeve. I turned half
about. Beside me stood the Princess Azai. Her hands were folded within
the long sleeves of her scarlet _kimono_, and she was gazing down upon
the mob as tranquilly as if contemplating the irises in the pool.
When she spoke her voice was barely audible above the labored
breathing of the _hatamotos_. “Is this loyal service?” she asked. “Let
explanation be made why you seek to murder the honored friend of your
lord.”
“The august lady errs,” ventured one of the leaders. “We seek to rid
the august lady’s garden from a defiling beast,--that _tojin_ devil!”
“Is it error to speak highly of the august lord who saved your master’s
daughter from the shame of _ronin_ capture? The presence of Woroto Sama
honors the garden.”
“The black ships of the barbarians glide up the bay against wind and
tide, propelled by evil magic!” cried another _hatamoto_. “In the
morning they will destroy all Yedo with their cannon. This _tojin_ is
their spy, august lady. Give him to us!”
“That is a double lie,” I rejoined, “a lie born of cowardice. Every man
among you knows that the black ships cannot approach near enough to
Yedo to throw a cannon ball into the city.”
“Spy!” hissed the mob. “The court found you guilty!”
“And the Shogun annulled the sentence! Find Gengo, and learn the truth.”
“There is no need, my lord,” said Azai, and she bowed low to the
kneeling _hatamotos_. “Permission is given to withdraw.”
The men upon the bank kowtowed. Those in the water waded ashore. All
set off across the garden, without so much as a murmur.