DAIMYO'S PROCESSION
The final preparations for the gorgeous procession progressed without
interruption all of the next day, notwithstanding a light rain fell
almost incessantly, and Shibusawa, at least, regretted though encouraged
a speedy going. He must on the very eve of Kinsan's discovery part with
what seemed to be the last hope of ever realising his life's ambition.
And she the property of his bitterest enemy! Sometimes it seemed more
than he could bear; but a recurring sense of the inevitable always
stayed the doing of some rash thing, and long before the evening had
passed friends were calling to bid the family good-bye.
As night came on, however, the rain ceased, and the weather began to
clear under a stiff breeze blowing from the eastward. It was a chill
October night, the leaves were falling, and the white clouds sped low in
the sky. The sun had fringed the western horizon with a snowy-fleeced
red, and Shibusawa stepped to the outer edge of his veranda to take a
parting glimpse of the golden scene spread over the hills above. He
could not see the site of the hidden cave, but his eyes moistened; he
turned away and looked toward the lake below.
There he saw emerging from a cluster of bushes Okyo, tugging along a coy
maiden, whose dress and appearance signified that she did not belong to
the castle; yet he observed her neat and modest appearance; also that
Okyo endeavoured with difficulty to induce her to approach. Shibusawa
drew back and waited their coming with amusement, if not interest.
Presently they came near, and after much consultation and persuasion on
Okyo's part they entered the house and groped their way hand in hand--he
pulling and she shying--into Shibusawa's presence. Okyo saluted his
master, she courtesied; between them they stammered an explanation, and
the host begged forgiveness for the unseemly confusion of identities.
"And this is Shiyoganai, the pretty young girl whom we rescued while
guests at the Look-See tea house. Let us see, that is several years ago,
and I am afraid our claim is now more than forfeited. However, I suppose
the double is fancied and the bargain might be renewed," said the young
prince, in a manner intended to place them at ease, and save the direct
embarrassment of a possible recognition.
The unexpected rather upset Okyo, and a feeling somewhat akin to fright
suddenly came over him. He said nothing; his voice failed him, and
hanging his head he partly turned and whispered:
"You tell it, Shiyoganai; I can't."
She blushed deeply, and told the story of how Okyo had again met her
after his venture upon the sea and with his meagre assistance saved her
from being sold a second time, possibly into something worse than
slavery. She added with much hesitation that they had dearly loved each
other for a long time, and asked him to be so kind as to let Okyo come
back sometime to see her.
"Tell him that I want to marry you," interposed her would-be suitor,
boldly.
"And are you both quite sure you wish to take so serious a step?"
"Oh, yes, we are," said they in chorus, scarcely the words left his
lips.
"Then you shall marry and welcome, for I shall want you to remain here
with the keeper until I return."
Shibusawa tendered Okyo the funds necessary to make settlement with her
parents and bade them expedite the marriage, as he must move early on
the morrow and should certainly expect them to be punctually on hand.
Nor did they waste time, but hurriedly saluted and were not seen again
until late the next morning, when Shiyoganai came trudging in, was
forgiven and seemed happy.
The daimyo's procession had started to move betimes, and was well on the
way before the streets had quieted down for the midday. The parade had
been so well noised about that the roads were everywhere lined with the
interested and the curious. Flags and bunting were displayed and many
shops had been closed in honour of the event. By common consent the
occasion had been turned into a general holiday in honour of the man
whose sympathy had endeared him to both prince and pauper alike; and as
the pageant moved along there was presented to view a strikingly
imposing scene.
Over forty thousand men were in line, and among them many dignitaries,
who had been invited and who chanced to join as a mark of respect and an
act of loyalty. The swordsmen, under the command of Beppu, a trusted
officer of the daimyo's forces, marched in the lead; after these came
the spearsmen; then the fieldsmen; and then the courtiers, retainers,
members of the household, servants, criers, and hangers-on. Groups of
knightly heralds, in costumes of white and gold, carried high, massive
plumes of green and brown; there were couriers with flaming banners,
gorgeous floats, flags, streamers, and bunting; huge grotesque figures
and other monstrosities wabbled along on human backs, while gilded poles
and clever symbols lined the imposing column. Gaudy uniforms and costly
dress told of the wealth and pomp that followed in the splendid train,
and the great chairs of state bespoke Maido's power and the splendour of
his suite. On the door at either side of these rich palanquins shone the
family crest, worked into the beautiful lacquer with finely threaded
gold and silver, in the design of five circles around ten short rays
representing sword punctures. The daimyo's chair came first in line,
then Shibusawa's. After all the rest there followed long trains laden
with baggage and paraphernalia belonging to the household and retainers
of the family.
The procession moved in double file along the old Tokaido, the deep-worn
and hard-packed highway with its tall cedars and interlocking branches
on either side. Here they travelled in solemn grandeur as their
ancestors of a thousand years had done, and Maido marvelled at the
beauty of the ceremony and thought with pride of the splendour of his
retinue. His army was counted legion and his income over a million
koku,[18] while the doors of nobility were open to him and royalty
pleased with his friendship. He had in effect just closed a brilliant
career, and his own son about to succeed him he believed capable of
winning new laurels--why should he not swell with satisfaction as he
rode along beneath the shade of these giants of the forest?
Shibusawa, on the other hand, had begun to take a deeper hold on life.
He had seen the world, and felt keenly the narrow pride which the lords
and rulers of his land boasted.
He knew their tiny empire to be a beauteous land, and he also knew that
it had been discovered; that there were other people from whom the good
things of the earth could not be kept. He also realised that they
themselves had much to profit by the larger intercourse certainly to
come, and that they, too, with all their excellence were far from being
perfect in the scale of social organisation. He had seen sufficient of
life and imbibed enough of truth to understand that so long as
inequality exists between men just so long will the state remain
flexible; and he realised that such a government must necessarily adapt
itself to natural conditions. He had looked out into the world and there
beheld the glory of man, not men; and he now believed in man's
regeneration as born of progression.
They tramped on day after day in their only fashion, and when they
finally did arrive at their own gate Shibusawa sprang from his chair and
amid the shouts of the men ran on at double the speed. For this he was
held in high esteem and accounted one of their kind, though some of the
dignitaries may have been a little surprised at the young prince's
democracy. While Maido, out of deference to his station, said nothing,
at least he really rejoiced, for he loved a good sprinter and had
actually winked at more than one wrestling match in his day.
"I would get out and go you a bout myself, were it not for shocking the
household keeper's sensibilities," said he to his son, quietly, as the
latter was about to leave his chair for the coveted run through the
woods and over the hills.
Shibusawa's fleetness brought him, before many hours had passed, to the
selfsame gate behind which most of his boyhood days had been spent. He
drew a deep breath as he entered, and while walking along the old
winding road to the main front he said to himself:
"What is sweeter and better than the environment of early home?"
He immediately, upon entering, set himself to work directing a few added
touches that would please and encourage his father's home-coming. Such
trifling attentions he accounted a great pleasure, and as he grew older
in appreciation of a parent's tenderness he lost no opportunity to show
his affectionate esteem. Nor did he misplace even one, for Maido in his
way repaid the trouble many fold.
When they had arrived at Kanazawa, the season had so far advanced that
they at once settled down for the winter. Though disappointed in not
being able to visit other parts of the prefecture, they took much
satisfaction in the quiet of their country house, and Magokoro (the real
or red heart, or maple leaves) smiled sweetly and soon the snow fell
beautifully. They did not lack for plenty to do and see, and when once
settled there was much company, for Maido had been gone for a long time
and his neighbours were not only glad at having seen him return, but
some of the mikado's court, not far distant, were interested in knowing
the reason.
Nor was Takara disinterested, though she did not call. And a certain
prince who had once upon a time been deeply in love with her and who was
still quite attentive, manifested more than an interest; he was anxious,
and upon Shibusawa's return he at first took it upon himself to visit
Kanazawa rather often. Aside from these personal attractions, the south
brewed a storm that was destined to spread until it had claimed the
attention of some persons even much farther north than Kanazawa. Thus
plenty both of interest and variety engaged Maido, nor would Shibusawa
flinch from his part.