When the Prince returned with this last news, I found that at heart
I was still very much a _tojin_. All thought of state affairs, the
interests of my new country and of my old country, were alike forgotten
in the selfish joy of my love. I was to wed my little Princess!
Blissful elation gave way to doubt and anxiety. The death of Iyeyoshi
had not yet been announced. Abe was waiting for the Mikado’s envoys.
When Iyesada had been duly confirmed in his rule, Iyeyoshi would be
officially declared dead and would be buried with all due pomp amongst
his forefathers either at Shiba or Uyeno. My fear was that, once the
period of mourning had begun, Azai might not be permitted to marry me
until the termination of the prescribed months of sorrow.
Though puzzled by my feverish impatience at the bare possibility of
delay, the Prince urged the matter upon Satsuma. The Daimio, no less
willing to please me than to disappoint Keiki, enlisted the assistance
of his adopted daughter, Iyesada’s wife. The lady was, I suspect,
delighted with the opportunity to remove from the palace one whose
influence was far greater than her own.
Abe found Iyesada not only willing but urgent to bind the House of
Owari to his interests by means of the marriage. Satsuma offered
himself as intermediator between the two families. Arrangements were
made under a mutual agreement that, in view of the circumstances,
the wedding should be conducted without display. An act accomplished
escapes opposition and a large share of the criticism otherwise uttered
in the hope of prevention.
The wishes of Azai were not consulted. She was told that she would be
wedded to me the following night. Presents were exchanged, and the
trousseau of my bride was brought at once to Owari Yashiki, in the
charge of Azai’s ladies-in-waiting. Even Tokiwa Sama was impressed by
the display of silk costumes and ornaments and artistic articles of
personal and household use arranged in the bridal apartments by the
ladies of the Princess. My own wardrobe was arranged by my mother and
her maids.
Propriety required that I should not view the trousseau of my bride
before the ceremony. But chance gave me one glimpse that stirred my
heart to deepest tenderness. While passing one of the inner garden
courts, I chanced to gaze across, and caught sight of a girl within
the opposite veranda. It was O Setsu San bearing in the favorite dolls
of her mistress.
I sought the seclusion of a grape arbor in the largest of the _yashiki_
gardens, and mused for hours upon the sweet innocence of my little
Princess bride. The thought of her childlike purity filled me with
adoration. I had won the love and trust of this young maiden who yet
played with her dolls. I must be very gentle with her.
Death had deprived her of a father’s fond care, marriage was to cut her
off from home and mother. By entering the family of Owari she was to
become as one dead to her own family. She had been the petted daughter
of an indulgent father; she was to become the wife and servant of a
husband and the humble subordinate of a mother-in-law, whose commands
must be obeyed.
Yet hers was a fate far better than the fate of most Japanese brides.
She loved me and knew that she was loved: others went to husbands
unknown to them, many without so much as the preliminary meeting common
among the lower classes. Tokiwa Sama I knew would be a mild tyrant to
the gentle daughter-in-law. As a concession to my _tojin_ prejudices,
if not because of the winsomeness of my bride, she would not deal
harshly with my wife.
This I knew because she had already made the amazing concession of
supporting me in a contest against custom. It was my earnest desire
that my bride should come to the wedding without the customary shaving
of eyebrows and blackening of teeth. I had laid great stress upon
this strange proposal. The matter had been carried up to Iyesada, and
precedent found for a postponement of the senseless blemishings until
after the marriage.
Though much astonishment was expressed over the betrayal of such absurd
prejudices by the Prince of Owari, Satsuma won over his daughter,
and Iyesada bent to the wish of his Shoguness. The Princess Azai was
ordered to comply with the whim of her future husband. For the time, at
least, I had saved the beauty of my darling.
The good news of this concession was brought to me by Satsuma on the
morning of my wedding day, and it added no little to my rapturous
anticipations. Overcome with joy, I went out into the gardens and
wandered about, neglectful of my duties, lost in a maze of blissful
visions. But presently the old Prince sought me out and sobered me with
his paternal reproof.
“Is it so that Woroto prepares himself for matrimony?” he asked. “On
the day of all days when a man should think reverently of the family,
my son has neglected to stand before the shrines of his forefathers.”
I kowtowed to the ground. “The rebuke of my august parent is just. I
will go at once.”
He restrained me with a gesture as I rose to hasten in. “Stay, my son.
It is well for you to realize that what you have set your heart upon
with such strange ardor is not certain of attainment even now.”
“Not certain!” I cried. “You bring ill news from the palace?”
“I have not been to the palace. From all I know, your day’s fortunes
are as bright as is this sky after the rain.”
“Yet you say--?”
“Have you then failed to grasp the characteristics of your new people,
Woroto? Do you forget that the times when we should most expect our
enemy to strike are the hours of our greatest joys and triumphs? Your
audience as Prince of Owari brought you the flask of poisoned _sake_.”
“_Namida!_” I murmured, seized with vague dread. “You have heard of
another plot! Keiki plans to rob me of my bride! Yuki has brought word
again from Kohana!”
“Nothing has been heard of any plot. Yuki brings no word from the
_geisha_. He committed the grave error of leaving in the street the
hollow arrow in which she shot out to him the message of the poison
plot. If it was picked up by the Mito men, we have the explanation why
no more arrows have dropped beside the _ronin_. The girl will render
no further service to Owari.”
“But the Shogun’s daughter--my bride?” I exclaimed, selfishly heedless
of whatever fate the _geisha_ may have suffered. “You think it possible
that Keiki will again attack her cortege?”
“Look for all evil from your foe when fortune seems fairest. Go now.
The gods await your prayers.”
I bowed, and with unfeigned gravity went in to set the daily offerings
before the Buddhist family shrine and murmur the daily invocation
before the Shinto tablets: “Ye forefathers of the generations, and of
our families, and of our kindred,--unto you, the founders of our homes,
we utter the gladness of our thanks.”
My duty as acting head of the household was fulfilled, but my disquiet
continued. I returned to the garden and roved about for hours, unable
to overcome the dread of impending disaster. As evening approached, my
alarm increased, though I knew that Fujimaro and Yuki had been sent
with a powerful escort to accompany the bride. When I was required to
go in to prepare for the ceremony, Tokiwa Sama sought to smile away my
dread. But I was in a fever of apprehension until announcement was made
that the bridal cortege was entering the great gate of the _yashiki_.
At this my dread gave way to joy no less unreasoning. I hastened in
my ceremonial costume to the position within the entrance where I was
to receive my bride. Outside, to right and left, two fires had been
lighted, and beside each an aged couple stood waiting with a rice
mortar. Near me was stationed one of the ladies-in-waiting with a
lantern, and other ladies stood behind her.
The armed escort had halted in the courtyard, and the bridal party
was already entering the inner enclosure. In the light of the gay
lanterns I saw the _norimon_ of the Princess, which had been turned
about end for end to symbolize her death to her family. It was borne
forward in the midst of the high officials of the palace household.
My chief retainers gathered before the entrance to meet and exchange
congratulations with the _hatamotos_. The old couples beside the fires
began to pound rice in their mortars and to call out felicitations: “A
thousand years!--Ten thousand years!”
The _norimon_, which had been placed upon the mats, was again raised
and borne in before me. The lady-in-waiting held her lantern for me. I
parted the curtain and looked in upon the lovely face of my bride. Her
pure young eyes met mine, aglow with the soft radiance of perfect love
and trust. For either to have spoken would have been most improper. But
we gazed deep into one another’s eyes.
The lady-in-waiting uttered a faint murmur. Azai blushed scarlet and
raised one of her sleeves before her face. With her free hand she
held out to me the bag of brocaded silk that contained her amulet or
talisman. As I took it from her, the _norimon_ was carried in past me,
led by the lady with the lantern. I handed the amulet bag to another
lady-in-waiting, and withdrew to my private rooms.
Even to my impatience the interval did not seem unduly prolonged before
I was requested to enter the ceremonial chamber. My attendants stopped
in the anteroom. I entered alone.
Azai sat in the place of honor, before the _tokonoma_, dressed in robes
of pure white silk, which had been sent to her in my name. Over her
head was draped a veil of white crepe. To all others the costume was
symbolic of death and mourning, to myself it was the emblem of bridal
purity.
According to immemorial custom, no relatives were present. Satsuma,
as our mediator, took the place of priest and magistrate, although he
now had nothing to say and nothing else to do than to sit with his
wife. Aside from this friendly couple, O Setsu San and others of the
ladies-in-waiting attended upon their mistress.
Food and _sake_ had been laid out in the _tokonoma_, which was
decorated with branches of pine and bamboo and cherry. When I had taken
my seat below and to one side of Azai, two of the ladies served us
with chestnuts, edible seaweed, and dried fish, bowing and murmuring
gracious words of compliment.
The _sake_ was in two wine flasks to which had been attached a pair
of butterflies, symbolic of our souls. These flasks and two heating
kettles were taken from the _tokonoma_ to the lower part of the room,
and the amber wine poured ceremoniously into one and then the other
kettle.
Three cups, placed one within the other on a tray, were brought to me
with the _sake_. I drank twice from the upper cup, poured a little
_sake_ from the full kettle into the empty one, and drank again from
the same cup. The service was now carried before Azai, who drank and
poured as I had done. The wine was returned to the _tokonoma_ and food
served to us.
Again the _sake_ was brought out, and we drank as before, except that
Azai was served first and used the second cup. For the second time the
_sake_ was returned to the _tokonoma_ and food served. Last of all, the
_sake_ was brought to us once more and I led, as at first, by drinking
from the third cup.
Throughout this mute yet solemn ceremony I was compelled to sit with
face half averted from my sweet bride. To look at her would have been
rude and unmannerly. I had to content myself with stolen side-glances
at her dainty head under its soft white veil. She held her eyes
modestly downcast.
I now rose and withdrew to one room, and Azai retired to another, while
our attendants were served with refreshments. I returned to take the
seat of honor. Immediately my little bride entered, no longer attired
in white, but in a kimono of soft dark silk. The veil had been removed,
and I saw that her hair was dressed after the fashion of married women.
She was now my wife.
As she nestled down in the place which had been mine, my parents and
the wedding guests entered to congratulate us and to join in the
feast that was served. For the time being austerity was laid aside,
and joy reigned supreme. Owari was providing for the perpetuation of
the family. It was proper for all relatives and friends to feast and
rejoice. Course followed course, and wit and poetry flowed as freely as
the amber rice-wine.
At last, close upon midnight, the feast drew to a close, and the
guests prepared to leave. I sat with my bride, receiving the final
congratulations and farewells. The more wearied of the guests hurried
off; the others prepared to follow. Soon the last would withdraw, and
we should be left alone with Satsuma and his wife, who were to conduct
us to the bridal chamber.
Suddenly I heard Yuki’s voice in the anteroom, raised in loud protest.
The Prince hastened out through the midst of the departing guests,
enraged at the unseemly disturbance. All followed his going with
startled looks. In the hush that fell upon us I heard voices murmuring
punctilious salutations.
The Prince reappeared, his face no longer flushed, but hard and cold.
He waved his fan towards Azai, and commanded in a harsh voice: “Lead
her out.”
But my darling had sensed the danger with quick intuition. She threw
herself before me and grasped at the edge of my robe. Over her bowed
head I caught sight of a grotesque, glittering figure on the threshold.
It was Keiki, in full armor.
My first thought was that the occasion had enabled the Mito men to
enter the _yashiki_ by stealth and overwhelm our retainers in their
quarters. Yet an attack, however sudden and stealthy, must have meant
some uproar of yells and clashing blades. We could not have failed to
hear the struggle, even had there been no other sounds than the shrieks
of the women.
As I rose, I perceived that the sword of our unwelcome visitor was
sheathed and in the hands of a bearer. There was no danger of immediate
violence. Yuki stood close at the shoulder of my enemy. Nevertheless
there was a grim menace in the glinting armor and hideous face-mask of
the son of Mito.
I bowed in response to his mocking salute, and attempted an ironical
greeting: “Keiki Sama comes late to my wedding feast. Yet food remains.
Let him be seated.”
“I come late and go soon,” he replied, in a tone that seemed to bring
a sneer to the brazen lips of his mask’s gaping maw. “I come late, but
still in time. Does the hairy barbarian grieve that I did not come
sooner?”
I turned inquiringly to the Prince. Before the enemy he could betray no
weakness. His voice sounded harsh and constrained: “Keiki Sama bears
the edict of the Mikado, which holds that Woroto is legally neither my
son nor Prince of Owari. He whom I have regarded as my son is declared
to be a criminal and a man of alien race. Keiki Sama bears the warrant
of Minamoto Iyesada and the Council of Elders to arrest Adamisu Woroto
and hold him in close confinement.”
Satsuma stepped forward. “Keiki Sama is requested to delay the
execution of his orders until dawn. The pledge of Satsuma is offered.”
“The pledge of Satsuma may not be scorned by any _daimio_ or son of
a _daimio_. Nevertheless the occasion does not permit of delay. The
command of the Shogun is imperative,” replied Keiki, and he displayed
his warrant with the great vermilion seal of Minamoto Iyesada.
“My Lord Woroto,” called Yuki, “your enemy has duped the Shogun with
evil lies. Are there no _samurais_ in Owari Yashiki?”
“The barbarian is welcome to call upon Owari to rebel against the will
of the Shogun,” mocked Keiki. “The august Rekko, Prince of Mito, now
commands the forces of the Shogunate. Ten thousand warriors surround
Owari Yashiki.”
I stooped before them all, and pressed my lips upon the bloodless lips
of Azai. “Farewell, my wife! We will meet on that other side!”
“You go, my lord!” she gasped.
“Better that the _tojin_ outcast should suffer than all Owari,” I
replied, and I loosened her clutching little fingers. No one should
share my fate.
She tottered up to follow me down the room. But Nature was more
merciful than Keiki. She swooned into the arms of my weeping mother.
The Prince averted his head, unable to mask his emotion. I advanced
swiftly past the guests that had lingered, and held out my sheathed
dirk to Keiki.
“Lead out, badger! The _tojin_ is ready,” I said.
“Go before, demon!” he commanded, enraged at the shameful name I gave
him.
Yuki had disappeared, but the Prince stepped to my side.
“Owari dono will escort to the portico him who was his son,” he said.
We walked out side by side, followed by Keiki and his swordbearer.
We went in silence. The Prince could offer me no hope, and it was no
time to give way to grief. In the portico we exchanged formal bows of
farewell. I passed on out.
Yuki approached, with his hands in his sleeves, and sought to edge
up beside me. I divined that he schemed to slip me one or both of my
revolvers. But Keiki was keen-eyed and vigilant. He thrust himself
between us. With the swordbearer on the other side, I walked out
through the state gate of Owari Yashiki, into the midst of the
mail-clad _samurais_ of Mito and Hitotsubashi.