Saitō Dōzō, in his admiration of Katsuno’s heroic deed, had it in his
mind to save the girl from the consequences of her rash action; but as
a samurai it did not accord with his honour to do so. This for two
reasons; one being that he had refused to deliver up Shichiroyemon when
asked to do so by Nobuyuki; and the other because it was a disgrace to
him personally that a warrior under his protection should have been
killed by a woman. Therefore, he gave orders for the close confinement
of the culprit, directing that she should be strictly watched and
guarded night and day.
Now that she had accomplished her long-cherished desire, and had sent
word to that effect to Lord Nobuyuki, Katsuno no longer had anything to
trouble her, and awaited her sentence with a tranquil mind.
One evening she was arranging some wisteria flowers which had been
brought to her by one of the samurai, appointed to keep guard over her,
when without any announcement Lady Saitō came into her room.
“How tastefully you have arranged those flowers, Katsuno!” she said.
“Have you recovered yourself?”
The girl smiled.
“Yes, thank you, my lady; having attained my object, I have nothing
left to wish for, and am ready to meet my fate.”
“You are a pattern of womanhood! How I admire you! It is unbearable
that one so virtuous should be subjected to the ignominy of
imprisonment for so long. I have repeatedly implored my lord for
your release, but as yet without avail.”
“You are too good; but I have no hope of release, and I am ready to
die.”
“Your death would serve no end, and I do not intend to let your life be
sacrificed. Listen,” she came nearer and whispered in Katsuno’s ear, “I
have managed to get your guard sent away on some pretext, and to-night,
Katsuno, you shall escape.”
“Indeed, no, my lady; that cannot be! I am quite prepared for death.
Without Hachiya my life is nothing to me, and should his lordship
discover what you had done his wrath would be terrible,—What might he
not do to you!”
“Have no fears on that point. It is not likely my lord will suspect
that I had any hand in your escape, but at the worst he will not kill
me. Do not think of me, but fly!”
“But, my lady,...”
“Oh, how obstinate you are! Why will you throw your life away? Katsuno,
as your mistress, I command you to escape this night!”
Seeing her mistress would take no refusal the girl gave in, and they
proceeded to discuss plans.
“And when you are safe, Katsuno, how will you spend your life?”
“I shall become a nun and spend my life praying to Buddha for the peace
of my dead husband’s soul.”
“An admirable resolve, but foolish! Have you no love for your
parents?—for your family and home? Ah, forgive me, your parents and
brothers are dead? I did not mean to cause you pain. But do you not see
that in that case it is impossible for you to give yourself up to a
life of devotion? Who then could carry on the family name?”
“But, your ladyship, I became the wife of Hachiya....”
“Yes, yes, but you were only betrothed! If you had married him really,
the case would be different,—an engagement is nothing. No other
woman would have considered it necessary to avenge his death. Your
faithfulness has been demonstrated by your heroic deed. Your devotion
will be handed down to posterity as a model for all wives to admire and
emulate, but now that is over; other duties remain.”
“What would you have me do, my lady?”
“You must marry.”
“A second marriage!”
“No, a first; as you told me yourself you were never married to
Hachiya, so who can blame you or call you a faithless wife if you
contract a marriage with another man? Even Hachiya in the spirit world
would approve of it.”
Katsuno thought over these words. It was true according to the ideas
in which she had been brought up that it was her duty not to let her
family name die out.
“You are right,” she said at length. “If I escape I will not refuse to
marry.” But she sighed, for her heart was with Hachiya.
“I was sure you would be sensible. And now hear what I have to say; a
near relative of mine, Ōsuga Katsutaka, a retainer of Lord Tokugawa of
Mikawa province is looking for a wife. He is only twenty-seven, yet
he is distinguished for his scholarship, bravery and above all his
military achievements. He has a great future before him, and, what
counts with a woman before all things, he has very good looks! Will you
marry him? I have already sounded him on the subject and he is anxious
you should be his wife. Do not reject such a good offer.”
Katsuno was silent, partly because of maiden modesty, and partly
because it was too momentous a question to be decided without due
consideration.
“Why do not you answer? What is your objection? I assure you that Ōsuga
is every thing that can be desired; you would never regret marrying
him—he is so brave and learned! But what is most important in your
case, if you have two or three children by him you can adopt one of
them to succeed to your father’s house and carry on the family name.”
“I am deeply grateful to you for all your kindness, my lady. I will do
as you advise; you are wiser than I, and you know what is best.”
“Then you agree? That is right, you are a good girl, Katsuno, and
deserve to be happy, as I know you will be with Ōsuga. But it is
getting very late and it is time you went. A palanquin is ready with
ten strong footmen to convey you to the home of Ōsuga. I am sorry to
part from you but it has to be, Farewell.”
As she spoke, Lady Saitō handed Katsuno a letter addressed to Ōsuga
Katsutaka, and a packet of money for her travelling expenses. The
girl accepted them with many thanks, and bidding farewell to her
mistress made her way to the postern gate from whence she safely
effected her escape from the castle arriving at her destination without
adventure.