THE HIDDEN CAVE
Time began, after a while, to drag heavily and Shibusawa thirsted for a
change. The day Chayo, moon festival (in the latter part of September),
had already come, and while sitting in the evening with his favourite
sister, Nehachibana, he half spoke, half meditated:
"Do you think I could go out to see the moon rise to-night? You know it
is Chayo, and I want to wander off by myself and see the 'grand three.'
It will enable me to start under a good omen. Pray come, don't say 'No,'
for I fear I shall have to go anyway."
Nehachibana had been his almost constant companion since the night of
his misfortune, and she felt nervous about his taking any undue risk now
that he was recovering so nicely. She was tall and seriously earnest,
and her counsel was invariably welcomed by her energetic brother, though
not always acted upon. Therefore she spoke with uncertain confidence
when she answered:
"It certainly is a shame to stay indoors at such a time and upon such a
night as the day promises. You are now somewhat accustomed to the open
air, and if you do not remain too long I can see no danger. I myself am
going out upon the green there, below the house, and I should be glad to
have you for company. Come join me, will you not?"
"No, thank you; I want to be alone, for once. I shall go inside the gate
to find a good lookout there, on the hillside. It is a splendid
chance--and there will not be so many sight-seers there. Few of those on
the inside engage in so light a diversion, and from the outside--well,
only those who can enter can stroll."
"Oh, Shibusawa, how can you think of venturing in there! You know it is
absolutely forbidden, and the guards may beat you down, should you try,"
said she, her voice trembling with fright.
"Have no fear, Nehachibana; I am already on more than friendly terms
with those fellows, and I assure you when once inside there is no danger
of discovery. I want to go there, where I can see and think without
molestation, and you know nothing less can rid me of my good fellow
Okyo. And then, the adventure. That will be stimulating, and I shall
tell you all about it to-morrow. There, now, let us not discuss it
further. Good-night."
Later in the evening Shibusawa, as planned, passed through the gate and
entered the august enclosure, where lived the only earthly being whom he
had been taught to revere above his own ancestry. True, the mikado[9]
had received no less a consideration, but his was of a divine character.
The one, the mikado, spiritual; the other, the shogun, material: both,
rulers supreme and eternal.
Upon entering the sacred place a mist of uncertainty seemed to envelop
him and, though there was no particular wrong in his doing so even in
such a manner, he felt as if he were unprepared, and that his presence
might profane the place. Contrary to any precedent, while entering he
chatted freely with the guards on duty and did not hesitate to disclose
his identity; nor did he in any manner attempt to deceive. His motives
were pure and his means convincing; the guards had occasion to trust
him, hence they passed him. No mention had been made of his noticeably
injured condition, for the very good reason that no questions had been
asked; and, beside his father, to whom Shibusawa had made a full
explanation, the cause and manner of his wounding remained unknown to
all, excepting himself, and possibly the man who did the striking.
Before starting he had changed his customary dress for that of an
ordinary attendant, so that had he been discovered in the grounds
anywhere not forbidden he might have been taken for a regular attaché;
especially inasmuch as he was again well tanned and somewhat rugged.
Keeping to the left as was the custom, Shibusawa strolled along the main
roadway until he came to a path which chanced to be the one leading
toward the gardener's cottage. As he walked along in that silent
mysterious dusk he had passed unnoticed several who were each on his way
to the city outside either to keep an engagement or seek diversion from
the monotony of court life. Now and then the rattling of a sword-hilt or
the clanking of steel warned him of the rank and occupation of the
passerby. A slight faintness came over him as the first sound of one had
grated upon his ears, and then his understanding changed and he felt
something of pity for the man whose only means of a livelihood seemed to
be the striking of his fellow-men.
Taking the cottage roadway he gladly, and with more leisure, plodded
along the hillside until he came to a bypath which led off to his right
and seemingly rose over a cliff farther on. The desire for adventure as
well as a better chance of being let alone prompted him to follow this
path, and as he trod upon the soft, beaten mould his sandals made no
sound save now and then an accidental rasping or the occasional rattling
of a fallen leaf. Nothing but quickened thoughts disturbed him here,
until presently he came to a rustic bridge which crossed a dancing
brooklet that faintly moaned and cried on its way. Half doubtful he
stepped upon the beaten plank, and the sound aroused from her reverie a
young maiden who stood midway on the bridge, and whom he had not until
then observed. She turned as he proceeded, and then he recognised her
and cried out:
"My honourable maiden."
Kinsan, too, had stolen away and gone there that she, also, might have
the good luck to see the moon rise in her majestic form of three. She
had been standing she knew not how long in the centre of the bridge,
with her elbows resting on the side rail and her dimpled cheeks buried
in her hands, watching and dreaming as only one of her age can, and
already there was beginning to shadow from above that mysterious, awe
inspiring grey blue which hovers between the last of twilight and the
coming of moonrise. Perhaps she also was thinking of one who had risen
in her life, yet of whom she could not hope to know. Thus startled she
did not recognise Shibusawa, nor did she attempt to move, but stood
there undecided, while he, blushing perceptibly, said in a reassuring
tone:
"I pray your forgiveness, madam, for so disturbing you. My name is
Shibusawa, and I beg of you the pleasure of knowing who you are and what
brings you here to this lovely spot at this delightful hour?"
Seeing that she hesitated as if debating what to do he continued:
"I pray you to believe me worthy, and to trust my motive, my honourable
madam."
Though Kinsan did not yet recognise her strange visitor she was not
alarmed; there was something about him that invited her confidence, and
before she realised it she had raised her eyes to his and there in the
glimmer of the starlight had experienced the same feeling which had held
her bounden since the time of their first meeting. The suddenness of the
recognition and the fulness of her soul caused her to blush, and to
stand meekly with drooping eyes and head bowed. Then she said modestly:
"I am Kinsan, the gardener's daughter. I came here to see the beautiful
moon rise, should it be so kind and I so fortunate. I do not know who
you are, but I trust and I believe you will permit me to pass without
harm. I have parents who love me, and I know you are of our faith. I
trust you, honourable sir, to speak further if you so desire."
"I thank you," said he, "for your frank expressions, and I swear by the
sword, Amanosakohoko, that I shall endeavour to merit your confidence.
May I not spread this robe so that we can sit, and further speak to each
other while waiting the moon's pleasure?"
"You may do so if you like, but I should tell you that it is unsafe
unless you have permission from a better authority. There is one who
sometimes passes here, and should he discover you I fear his cruelty
might be no less severe than my interest is great. If you do not mind a
short, steep climb I will lead the way to a secluded spot near by where
we can get a still better view and also guard against being seen. I was
just going there, and no one will miss me at home until the hour has
gone. Shall I proceed?"
"I certainly shall be glad to trust myself to your guidance, and if it
is not too hard for you to go there it ought not to be for me."
"You see," said Kinsan, as she led the way back across the bridge and
began climbing the hill above, "there is no pathway to follow. That is
because no one but myself ever goes there, and I take pains not to
establish a road and thus provide the means to a discovery of my hidden
place."
After leaving the by-path they scrambled up with some difficulty over
the embankment and through a brier patch into the woodland beyond.
Hereafter their passage through the scattering trees was quite easy,
except the long grass and sloping hill made it necessary for them to
choose well their steps, and as they went they chatted with no concern
or accident to mar their pleasures or stay the confidence that was so
rapidly growing between them. The balmy air, the inviting scenery, the
romantic occasion, all inspired those feelings of trust which come of
more than understanding and which are never abused.
Once Kinsan slipped a little and threw out her arms to recover her
balance. As if by instinct Shibusawa was at her side and caught her hand
in his just in time to save a fall; the soft skin told him of her good
breeding, and the warm blood of her perfect health. He held it gently, a
little longer, perhaps, than necessary to stay her fall, and then he did
not drop it nor did she take it away, but as if moved by an unseen power
and with feelings sweeter than life itself started on, and Kinsan did
not fall or lose her balance again that night.
"Oh, what a grand place it is!" said he, as she led him to a seat on one
side looking out over a panorama of woodland and battlement and castle
ground and city far away toward the rising moon.
The place to which Kinsan led captive was an old abandoned nook, which
had centuries before been used as a sight-seeing retreat by no less a
personage than the shogun himself. It lay far up on the hillside in a
small level space that rounded out at the head of a miniature gulch,
through which ran the rivulet spanned by the bridge where the lovers
met. The site, now dry and hard, was once the source of a natural
spring, which had long ago disappeared through a tunnel made farther
down the declivity. It was an ideal place for a hidden cave, such as it
really appeared to be and as Kinsan called it; and the shogun under
whose direction it was improved had spared no expense to make it a place
of beauty as well as seclusion.
A retaining wall at the back,--in which were constructed wide and
comfortable stone seats,--rounded up at both corners and arched over in
front, while trees and vines had been so planted here and there as to
shade the sun or break the storm, without in any manner obstructing the
view. Some of these giant trees still stood, marking the grandeur of a
different age. Others had fallen and long ago disappeared, while vines
and shrubs had grown and regrown into tangled gnarls of brush and brier.
All trace of its once gravelled approach and smooth floor had vanished
with age, and no other person now found his way there except by merest
chance or a curious reverence.
Kinsan was the cave's only regular visitor and, jealously, she took
every precaution to avoid attracting any attention to it. Unlike her
sisters and her girl friends she wanted some place to which she could go
and be by herself, and there indulge in that freedom which made her so
different from others as well as the envy of all who knew her. She had
with her own hands cleared the place of briers and fallen debris, and
had carried straw and mats there to cover and make more comfortable a
seat. Why, she did not know, but she loved different things from those
which pleased the people whom she knew, and at times she longed to
breathe a different atmosphere and to think new thoughts and experience
other feelings. And now that this queer little house of hers contained
another--one in whom all her sentiments seemed to enliven and to
crystallise--her heart filled and there rose within her a new being,
whose love and innocence and purity and sweetness shone forth like a
flood-light of truth.
Shibusawa, too, felt the irresistible oncoming of that new life which
had taken hold of him the first time he saw Kinsan; nor did he try to
dissuade it, for in it he saw and felt the force of nature, the power of
Infinity.
They sat there and talked and thought of things that were sweet and dear
to them. Only once were they disturbed, and that was shortly after they
had gone there and while they were sitting and dreaming as only true
lovers can. It was just when the light and dark seemed most uncertain
and everything mysteriously told of a parting and welcomed an oncoming.
A cloud lazily floated overhead, turning its golden fringe into a border
of silver. Not a leaf rustled or a note sounded on the hollow air. Not
even they seemed conscious of another living thing, when out of the
stillness there came the unmistakable sound of a man walking rapidly in
a silk kimono.
"Swish, swish, swish," continued grating upon Shibusawa's ear, each time
more distinct, and he half rose to his feet as if ready to bound upon an
enemy. Kinsan caught hold of his kimono and whispered:
"Do not be disturbed. I have heard it before, and I can tell from the
sound just who it is and about where he is walking: he is now on the
by-path not far from the bridge where we last met. If he turns this way
I shall warn you in time so that we can hide in a secret place I have
found out just above this. It is easy of access, and he never could find
us there. It is grown over with an old wisteria and is out of reach of
that one, I am sure."
The man in the by-path continued to walk briskly along, keeping a close
watch on either side. He seemed to be quite nervous and anxious, though
he moved with determination and evinced a fixed purpose. His course led
him around the gulch so far below, and they were so hidden behind the
trees, that they were seldom exposed to his view, yet they themselves
could see and distinguish even the features of any person well impressed
upon the memory. The intruder did not pause until he had reached the
footbridge, where only a short time before Shibusawa and Kinsan had met,
and then he stopped and looked as if expecting to see someone. Once he
stared momentarily straight toward the cave, and had he been aware of
such a place he might have distinguished the two sitting there only
partially shielded by the bushes. Shibusawa as it was had the advantage,
and looked the stranger directly in the face. He trembled, then leaned
forward and stared intently.
"Pray do not be alarmed," said Kinsan, in a low voice, already divining
his keen interest. "Even though he see us and should come this way we
are yet safe. My hiding-place will not fail me."
"If I mistake not," answered Shibusawa, "we shall have no need for
hiding--I have at least a more satisfactory thought."
"Oh, no, honourable sir, we must not be seen by him!" said Kinsan,
nervously. "He is such a terrible man; and very powerful and brave, they
say. If he should discover me here, and at this hour, and in the company
of a man--oh, how late it is getting! I think I must be going."
"Then you know him, do you?" asked Shibusawa, quickly and interestedly,
though speaking in an undertone.
"Oh, yes; I know him well," said she, without any hesitancy.
"And he is seeking you here? and now? I shall meet him forthwith."
"Yes, he often does, and I am so glad--"
"Aha, and I am so nicely trapped!" said he, meditatively.
She did not answer him, for the reason that she did not understand him,
and without so doing there was no occasion for an answer. He said
nothing, but sat for the moment alternating between rage and jealousy.
He looked at the burly form on the bridge, then at Kinsan. He thought of
his love, then of his wounding. He at first determined to accuse her and
fly at his antagonist, but afterwards reasoned that there was nothing to
be gained by haste, and also that possibly he might be misinformed, if
not entirely wrong.
Their visitor soon turned around, his back toward them, and as if
disappointed at the prospect hung himself upon the bridge rail and
stared vacantly at the distant horizon. Presently he straightened up and
slowly walked away; and not until he had entirely gone did either
Shibusawa or Kinsan speak; nor would they yet have resumed talking had
Shibusawa been the first to begin. He still pondered a doubt about the
real circumstance, though his faith in Kinsan strengthened as he himself
recovered.
"I am so glad he has gone away. Oh, if he would only not come back! Did
he frighten you much?" said she, her voice betraying her anxiety.
"I cannot say that I was so much as frightened, though I feel better now
that he has gone," said he, evasively. "Why, Kinsan, you do look
pleased, and I really believe you, too, are glad to be rid of him. It is
unfortunate that he came just at this time--I wonder if my being here
influenced his coming? Still, I hardly believe it could have done so,
because I do not even know his name, much less does he know me."
"Oh, no. That was Tetsutaisho, an officer in the shogun's army," said
Kinsan, assuringly and without divining Shibusawa's purpose, "and I am
certain it was not because you were here that he came. And I am so glad
that you are here! I am lonely when I sit here by myself, and now--you
will come again, will you not?"
Shibusawa did not answer her at once, but turned and looked, and her
soft true eyes looked into his, and he saw how cruel he had been to let
suspicion enter his heart and how unworthy of her confidence he had
been. Then all his manhood rose and his thoughts became pure and his
feelings true, and his courage spoke as he said:
"Yes."
The moon had risen, and--how could they have seen it other than as it
was, a good omen? for they two and it made three.