CHAPTER II.

NAGATO'S WOUND.

The Prince of Nagato had returned to his palace. He slept stretched out

on a pile of fine mats; around him was almost total darkness, for the

blinds had been lowered, and large screens spread before the windows.

Here and there a black lacquer panel shone in the shadow and reflected

dimly, like a dull mirror, the pale face of the Prince as he lay on his

cushions.

Nagato had not succeeded in seeing Hieyas: he was told that the Regent

was engaged with very important business. Pleased at the chance, the

young Prince hurried home to rest for a few hours before the council.

In the chambers adjoining the one in which he slept servants came

and went silently, preparing their master's toilette. They walked

cautiously, that the floor might not creak, and talked together in low

tones.

"Our poor master knows no moderation," said an old woman, scattering

drops of perfume over a court cloak. "Continual feasting and nightly

revels,--never any rest; he will kill himself."

"Oh, no! pleasure does not kill," said an impudent-looking boy, dressed

in gay colors.

"What do you know about it, imp?" replied the woman. "Wouldn't you

think the brat spent his life in enjoyment like a lord? Don't talk so

boldly about things you know nothing of!"

"Perhaps I know more about them than you do," said the child, making a

wry face; "you haven't got married yet, for all your great age and your

great beauty."

The woman threw the contents of her flask in the boy's face; but he

hid behind the silver disk of a mirror which he was polishing, and the

perfume fell to the ground. When the danger was over, out popped his

head.

"Will you have me for a husband?" he cried; "you can spare me a few of

your years, and between us we'll make but a young couple."

The woman, in her rage, gave a sharp scream.

"Will you be quiet?" said another servant, threatening her with his

fist.

"But who could listen to that young scamp without blushing and losing

her temper?"

"Blush as much as you like," said the child; "that won't make any

noise."

"Come, Loo, be quiet!" said the servant.

Loo shrugged his shoulders and made a face, then went on listlessly

rubbing his mirror.

At this instant a man entered the room.

"I must speak to Iwakura, Prince of Nagato," he cried aloud.

All the servants made violent signs to impose silence on the new-comer.

Loo rushed towards him and stopped his mouth with the rag with which he

was polishing the mirror; but the man pushed him roughly away.

"What does all this mean?" he said. "Are you crazy? I want to speak to

the lord whom you serve, the very illustrious daimio who rules over the

province of Nagato. Go and tell him, and stop your monkey tricks."

"He is asleep," whispered a servant.

"We cannot wake him," said another.

"He is frightfully tired," said Loo, with his finger on his lip.

"Tired or not, he will rejoice at my coming," said the stranger.

"We were ordered not to wake him until a few moments before the hour

for the council," said the old woman.

"I sha'n't take the risk of rousing him," said Loo, drawing his mouth

to one side.--

"Nor I," said the old woman.

"I will go myself, if you like," said the messenger; "moreover, the

hour of the council is close at hand. I just saw the Prince of Arima on

his way to the Hall of a Thousand Mats."

"The Prince of Arima!" cried Loo; "and he is always late!"

"Alas!" said the old woman; "shall we have time to dress our master?"

Loo pushed aside a sliding partition and opened a narrow passage;

he then softly entered Nagato's bedroom. It was cool within, and a

delicate odor of camphor filled the air.

"Master! master!" said Loo in a loud voice, "the hour has come; and

besides there is a messenger here."

"A messenger!" cried Nagato, raising himself on one elbow; "what does

he look like?"

"He is dressed like a samurai:[1] he has two-swords in his sash."

"Let him come in at once," said the Prince, in a tone of agitation.

Loo beckoned to the messenger, who prostrated himself on the threshold

of the room.

"Approach!" said Nagato.

But the messenger being unable to see in the dark hall, Loo folded

back one leaf of a screen which intercepted the light. A broad band of

sunshine entered; it lighted up the delicate texture of the matting

which covered the wall and glistened on a silver stork with sinuous

neck and spread wings, hanging against it.

The messenger approached the Prince and offered him a slender roll of

paper wrapped in silk; then he left the room backwards.

Nagato hastily unrolled the paper, and read as follows:

"You have been here, illustrious one, I know it! But why

this madness, and why this mystery? I cannot understand

your actions. I have received severe reprimands from my

sovereign on your account. As you know, I was passing

through the gardens, escorting her to her palace, when

all at once I saw you leaning against a tree. I could

not repress an exclamation, and at my cry she turned

towards me and followed the direction of my eyes. 'Ah!'

she said, 'it is the sight of Nagato that draws such

cries from you. Could you not stifle them, and at least

spare me the sight of your immodest conduct?' Then she

turned and looked at you several times. The anger in her

eyes alarmed me. I dare not appear before her to-morrow,

and I send you this message to beg you not to repeat

these strange visits, which have such fatal consequences

to me. Alas! do you not know that I love you, and need

I repeat it? I will be your wife whenever you wish....

But it pleases you to adore me as if I were an idol in

the pagoda of the Thirty-three thousand three hundred

and thirty-three.[2] If you had not risked your life

repeatedly to see me, I should think you were mocking

me. I entreat you, expose me to no more such reproofs,

and do not forget that I am ready to recognize you as

my lord and master, and that to live by your side is my

dearest desire."

Nagato smiled and slowly closed the roll; he fixed his eyes upon the

streak of light cast on the floor from the window, and seemed lost in

deep revery.

Little Loo was greatly disappointed. He had tried to read over his

master's shoulder; but the roll was written in Chinese characters,

and his knowledge fell short of that. He was quite familiar with the

Kata-Kana, and even knew something of Hira-Kana; but unfortunately was

entirely ignorant of Chinese writing. To hide his vexation, he went to

the window and lifting one corner of the blind, looked out.

"Ah!" he said, "the Prince of Satsuma and the Prince of Aki arrive

together, and their followers look askance atone another. Ah! Satsuma

takes precedence. Oh! oh! there goes the Regent down the avenue. He

glances this way, and laughs when he sees the Prince of Nagato's suite

still standing at the door. He would laugh far louder if he knew how

little progress my master had made in his toilet."

"Let him laugh, Loo! and come here," said the Prince, who had taken

a pencil and roll of paper from his girdle and hastily written a few

words. "Run to the palace and give this to the King."

Loo set off as fast as his legs could carry him, pushing and jostling

those who came in his way to his utmost.

"And now," said Iwakura, "dress me quickly."

His servants clustered about him, and the Prince was soon arrayed in

the broad trailing trousers which make the wearer look as if he were

walking on his knees, and the stiff ceremonial mantle, made still more

heavy by the crest embroidered on its sleeves. The arms of Nagato

consisted of a black bolt surmounting three balls in the form of a

pyramid.

The young man, usually so careful of his dress, paid no attention to

the work of his servants; he did not even glance at the mirror so well

polished by Loo, when the high pointed cap, tied by golden ribbons, was

placed on his head.

As soon as his toilette was complete he left the palace; but so great

was his abstraction that, instead of getting into the norimono awaiting

him in the midst of his escort, he set off on foot, dragging his huge

pantaloons in the sand, and exposing himself to the rays of the sun.

His suite, terrified at this breach of etiquette, followed in utter

disorder, while the spies ordered to watch the actions of the Prince

hastened to report this extraordinary occurrence to their various

masters.

The ramparts of the royal residence at Osaka, thick, lofty walls

flanked at intervals by a semicircular bastion, form a huge square,

which encloses several palaces and vast gardens. To the south and west

the fortress is sheltered by the city; on the north the river which

flows through Osaka widens, and forms an immense moat at the foot of

the rampart; on the east, a narrower stream bounds it. On the platform

of the walls grows a row of centenarian cedars of a sombre verdure,

their level branches projecting horizontally across the battlements.

Within, a second wall, preceded by a moat, encloses the parks and

palaces reserved for the princes and their families. Between this wall

and the ramparts lie the houses of soldiers and officials. A third wall

surrounds the private palace of the Shogun, built upon a hill. This

building is of simple but noble design. Square towers with roof upon

roof rise here and there from the general mass. Marble stair-ways,

bordered by slender lacquer railings, and decorated at the foot by

bronze monsters or huge pottery vases, lead to the outer galleries. The

terrace before the palace is covered with gravel and white sand which

reflects back the splendor of the sun.

In the centre of the edifice stands a large, lofty, and magnificently

ornate square tower. It supports seven roofs, whose angles are bent

upward; on the topmost roof two enormous goldfish[3] writhe and twist,

glittering so that they may be seen from every point of the city.

In that part of the palace nearest to this tower is the Hall of a

Thousand Mats, the meeting-place for the Council.

The lords arrived from all directions, climbed the hill, and moved

towards the central portico of the palace, which opens upon a long

gallery loading directly into the Hall of a Thousand Mats.

This lofty, spacious hall is entirely bare of furniture. Movable

partitions sliding in grooves intersect it and, when closed, form

compartments of various sizes. But the partitions are always opened

wide in such a way as to produce agreeable effects of perspective. The

panels in one compartment are covered with black lacquer decorated

in gold, in another of red lacquer or of Jeseri wood, the veins of

which form natural and pleasing designs. Here, the screen, painted

by a famous artist, is lined with white satin heavily embroidered

with flowers; there, on a dead gold ground, a peach-tree loaded with

its pink blossoms spreads its gnarled branches; or perhaps merely

an irregular sprinkling of black, red, and white dots oil dark wood

dazzles the eye. The mats which cover the floor are snow white, and

fringed with silver.

The nobles, with their loose pantaloons falling below their feet, seem

to move forward on their knees, and their robes brush the mats with

a continuous sound, like the murmur of a waterfall. The spectators,

moreover, preserve a religious silence. The _Hattamotos_, members of

an order of nobility, recently instituted by the Regent, crouch in the

farthest corners, while the _Samurais_, of ancient lineage, owners

of fiefs and vassals of princes, pass these newly made nobles by,

with scornful glances, and come perceptibly closer to the great drawn

curtain veiling the platform reserved for the Shogun. The _Lords of

the Earth_, princes supreme in their own provinces, form a wide circle

before the throne, leaving a free space for the thirteen members of the

Council.

The councillors soon arrive. They salute each other, and exchange a few

words in low voices; then take their places.

On the left, presenting their profile to the drawn curtain, are

the superior councillors. They are five in number, but only four

are present. The nearest to the throne is the Prince of Satsuma, a

venerable old man with a long face full of kindness. Next to him is

spread the mat of the absentee. Then comes the Prince of Satake, who

bites his lip as he carefully arranges the folds of his robe. He is

young, dark-skinned, and his jet black eyes twinkle strangely. Next to

him is established the Prince of Ouesougi, a fat and listless-looking

man. The last is the Prince of Isida, a short, ugly-faced fellow.

The eight inferior councillors crouching opposite the throne are the

princes of Arima, Figo, Wakasa, Aki, Tosa, Ise, and Coroda.

A stir is heard in the direction of the entrance, and every head

is bent to the ground. The Regent advances into the hall. He moves

rapidly, not being embarrassed, like the princes, by the folds of his

trailing trousers, and seat's himself, cross-legged, on a pile of mats

to the right of the throne.

Hieyas was at this time an old man. His back was slightly bent, but

he was broad-shouldered and muscular. His head, entirely shaven,

revealed a high forehead, with prominent eyebrows. His thin lips,

cruel and obstinate in expression, were deeply marked at the corners

with downward wrinkles. His cheek-bones were extremely marked, and his

prominent eyes flashed forth abrupt and insincere glances.

As he entered, he cast an evil look, accompanied by a half-smile,

towards the vacant place of the Prince of Nagato. But when the curtain

rose, the Shogun appeared, leaning with one hand on the shoulder of his

youthful councillor.

The Regent frowned.

All the spectators prostrated themselves, pressing their foreheads on

the ground. When they rose, the Prince of Nagato had taken his place

with the rest.

Fide-Yori seated himself, and motioned to Hieyas that he might speak.

Then the Regent read various unimportant reports,--nominations of

magistrates, movements of the troops on the frontier, the change of

residence of a governor whose term had expired. Hieyas explained

briefly and volubly the reasons which had actuated him. The councillors

ran their eyes over the manuscripts, and having no objection to make,

acquiesced by a gesture. But soon the Regent folded all these papers

and handed them to a secretary stationed near him; then resumed his

speech, after first coughing:--

"I called this special meeting to-day," he said, "that its members

might share the fears which I have conceived for the tranquillity of

the kingdom, on learning that the severe supervision ordered over

the European bonzes and such Japanese as have embraced their strange

doctrine, are strangely relaxed, and that they have resumed their

dangerous intrigues against the public peace. I therefore demand the

enforcement of the law decreeing the extermination of all Christians."

A singular uproar arose in the assembly,--a mixture of approval,

surprise, cries of horror and of anger.

"Would you witness a renewal of the hideous and bloody scenes whose

terror still lingers in our minds?" cried the Prince of Satake with his

wonted animation.

"It is odd to affirm that poor people who preach nothing but virtue and

concord can disturb the peace of an empire," said Nagato.

"The Daimio speaks well," said the Prince of Satsuma; "it is impossible

for the bonzes of Europe to have any effect upon the tranquillity of

the kingdom. It is therefore useless to disturb them."

But Hieyas addressed himself directly to Fide-Yori.

"Master," said he, "since no one will share my anxiety, I must inform

you that a dreadful rumor is beginning to circulate among the nobles

and among the people."

He paused a moment, to add solemnity to his words.

"It is said that he who is still under my guardianship, the future

ruler of Japan, our gracious lord, Fide-Yori, has embraced the

Christian faith."

An impressive silence followed these words. The spectators exchanged

glances which said clearly that they had heard the report, which might

have a solid basis.

Fide-Yori took up the word.

"And should a calumny spread by ill-intentioned persons be avenged upon

the innocent I I command that the Christians shall not be molested in

any way. My father, I regret it, thought it his duty to pursue with his

wrath and to exterminate those unhappy men; but I swear, while I live,

not one drop of their blood shall be shed."

Hieyas was stupefied by the resolute accent of the young Shogun; for

the first time he spoke as a master, and commanded. He bowed in sign of

submission, and made no objection. Fide-Yori had attained his majority,

and if he was not yet proclaimed Shogun it was because Hieyas was in

no haste to lay down his power. He did not, therefore, wish to enter

into open strife with his ward. He set the question aside for the time

being, and passed to something else.

"I am told," he said, "that a nobleman was attacked and wounded last

night on the Kioto road. I do not yet know the name of this noble;

but perhaps the Prince of Nagato, who was at Kioto last night, heard

something of this adventure?"

"Ah! you know that I was at Kioto," muttered the Prince; "then I

understand why there were assassins on my path."

"How could Nagato be at Osaka and at Kioto at one and the same time?"

asked the Prince of Satake. "There is nothing talked of this morning

but the water-party which he gave last night, and which ended so

merrily with a fight between the lords and the sailors from the shore."

"I even got a scratch in the squabble," said Nagato, smiling.

"The Prince traverses in a few hours distances that others would take a

day to go over," said Hieyas; "that's all. Only, he does not spare his

horses; every time he comes back to the palace, his animal falls down

dead."

The Prince of Nagato turned pale, and felt for the sword missing from

his girdle.

"I did not suppose that your anxious care extended even to the beasts

of the kingdom," said he, with an insolent irony. "I thank you in the

name of my dead horses."

The Shogun, full of alarm, cast supplicating glances at Nagato. But

it seemed as if the Regent's patience were proof against all trials

to-day. He smiled and made no reply.

However, Fide-Yori saw that anger smouldered in his friend's soul;

and dreading some fresh outburst, he put an end to the council by

withdrawing.

Almost immediately one of the palace guards informed the Prince of

Nagato that the Shogun was asking for him. The Prince said a pleasant

word to several nobles, bowed to the rest, and left the hall without

turning his head in the direction of Hieyas.

When he reached the apartments of the Shogun, he heard a woman's voice,

petulant, and at the same time complaining. He caught his own name.

"I have heard all," said the voice,--"your refusal to accede to the

wishes of the Regent, whom you suffered to be insulted before your very

eyes by the Prince of Nagato, whose impudence is truly incomparable;

and the rare patience of Hieyas, who did not take up the insult from

respect for you, from pity for him whom you believe to be your friend,

in your ignorance of men."

Nagato recognized the speaker as the Shogun's mother, the beautiful and

haughty Yodogimi.

"Mother," said the Shogun, "turn your thoughts to embroidery and dress:

that is woman's sphere."

Nagato entered hurriedly, that he might not longer be an unsuspected

listener.

"My gracious master asked for me," he said. Yodogimi turned and blushed

slightly on seeing the Prince, who bowed low before her.

"I have something to say to you," said the Shogun.

"Then I will retire," said Yodogimi bitterly, "and go back to my

embroidery."

She crossed the room slowly, rustling her trailing silken robes, and

casting as she went out a singular look at Nagato, compounded of

coquetry and hate.

"You heard my mother," said Fide-Yori.

"Yes," said Nagato.

"Every one is anxious to detach me from you, my friend: what can be

their motive?"

"Your mother is blinded by some calumny," said the Prince; "the others

see in me a clear-sighted foe, who can outwit the plots which they

contrive against you."

"It was of a plot I wished to speak to you."

"Against your life?"

"Precisely. It was revealed to me in a strange fashion, and I

can scarcely credit it; yet I cannot resist a certain feeling of

uneasiness. To-morrow, at the feast of the God of the Sea, a bridge

will give way beneath me."

"Horrible!" cried Nagato. "Do not go to the feast."

"If I stay away," said Fide-Yori, "I shall never know the truth, for

the plot will not be carried out. But if I go to the feast," he added

with a smile, "if the conspiracy really exist, the truth would be

somewhat difficult of proof."

"To be sure," said Nagato. "Still, our doubts must be set at rest; some

means must be found. Is your route fixed?"

"Hieyas has arranged it."

Fide-Yori took a roll of paper from a low table and read:--

"Yedogava Quay, Fishmarket Square, Sycamore Street, seashore. Return by

Bamboo Hill and Swallow bridge.

"The wretches!" cried Iwakura; "that is the bridge swung across the

valley!"

"The place would be well chosen indeed," said the Shogun.

"It must be that bridge; those crossing the countless city canals would

not expose you to death by crumbling under your feet, but at the utmost

to a disagreeable bath."

"True," said Fide-Yori; "and from the Swallow bridge I should be hurled

upon the rocks."

"Have you full trust in my friendship for you?" asked the Prince of

Nagato, after a moment's thought.

"Can you doubt it, Iwakura?" said the Shogun.

"Very well, then. Fear nothing, feign complete ignorance, let them lead

the way, and march straight up to the bridge. I have thought of a way

to save you, and yet discover the truth."

"I trust myself to you, friend, in perfect confidence."

"Then let me go; I must have time to carry out my scheme."

"Go, Prince; I place my life in your hands untremblingly," said the

Shogun.

Nagato hastened away, first saluting the king, who replied by a

friendly gesture.

[1] Noble officer in the service of a daimio or prince.

[2] Temple at Kioto containing 33,333 idols.

[3] These fish actually exist, and are valued at an immense sum, many

placing it as high as a million dollars.

The Usurper: An Episode in Japanese History · 第 2 / 31 章