“Forgive my rudeness, my lady! In my admiration of the heroic sport I
forgot myself.”
“You are indeed fond of archery!”
“Yes, my lady, there is nothing I like so well.”
“A strange taste for a girl!” said her mistress looking curiously at
her. “But the excitement is too much for you; you are pale and your
eyes are bloodshot. Have you a headache?”
“No, your ladyship, but I did not sleep last night.”
“Are you not well?”
“I am quite well; it was the thought of to-day’s pleasure that kept me
awake.”
“What a passionate lover of archery!” said the lady laughing, and
Katsuno flushed at her mocking tone.
The performance of the various numbers on the programme required many
of the archers to appear several times in the lists, Shichiroyemon
among them. Every time he rode forth Katsuno eagerly watched for her
chance, but to her intense mortification it nearly always happened that
his horse was on the opposite side of the lists; and the few occasions
on which he approached close enough to where she waited, he dashed
past so swiftly she was unable to do anything. She wondered if her
enemy had recognised her and was on his guard. She suffered an agony of
impatience and fear, and almost gave up in despair.
The programme had been duly gone through, and there now remained only
the final ceremony of _nanori_ or “declaring of names.” How would this
be performed? she wondered. She feared it would not bring Shichiroyemon
within her reach. Should she rush desperately into the lists and
kill him there in the midst of his compeers? No, that would be too
hazardous; should she fail her chance would be gone for ever. On the
other hand if she let slip this opportunity was it likely she would
ever get another? And she must decide quickly.
While Katsuno agonized thus, the ceremony had commenced. Each archer in
his turn rode up to the dais, bowed reverentially to his liege lord,
declared his name, and slowly withdrew. Quickly making up her mind she
braced herself for action.
The day had advanced and it was now the middle of the afternoon. The
cherry-blossoms hung still in the bright sunshine, for the air had not
movement enough to stir even their delicate petals. A langour seemed
to have fallen on all and even the spectators showed signs of fatigue.
Only Katsuno was keenly on the alert!
“No. 53!” At the call Shichiroyemon leapt on his horse, pausing a
moment to arrange the harness. A swift glance at him as he sat in the
full blaze of the sun showed Katsuno that he was splendidly arrayed
in a white _kosodé_, covered with a design of nightingales perched
on plum-trees. With bow and arrows in his hand, and mounted on a
snow-white steed he made a gallant show, his bronze complexion and
bushy whiskers adding to his grim and warlike appearance. Katsuno
gnashed her teeth.
After riding three times round the lists Shichiroyemon suddenly
tightened the reins and caused his horse to stop before the dais. Then
slowly riding up to the foot of the gallery he bowed low, as in a
clear voice he proclaimed his name. This moment, as he was about to
withdraw, was Katsuno’s opportunity. Slipping off her upper garment she
was on the step before any one could stop her.
“Well met, Sakuma Shichiroyemon. I am the wife of Tsuda Hachiya whom
you foully murdered! Taste the sharpness of my revenge!”
With these words she thrust the dagger into his side with all her
strength. So sudden was the attack, and such the force lent her by
desperation, that, strong man though he was, Shichiroyemon fell forward
from his saddle to the ground. With the cry “Hachiya is avenged!” she
gave him another thrust which proved mortal.
A white petal wafted by the breeze fluttered softly on to the
blood-stained dagger, and for a while all who witnessed the scene were
speechless with horror.