THE air was balmy, the sky of a cerulean blue, the Dewdrop gardens were
sweet with a strange charm and mystery all their own. Pebbles, sand, and
stone, were cunningly displayed and mingled to create the illusion of an
approach to a giant sea. In themselves the wondrous rocks were so
fashioned as to form a landscape wherein neither foliage, trees, nor
flowers were necessary. Small, grotesque bridges, made of rare rocks in
their natural form, undefaced by hammer or chisel, spanned the miniature
rivers, which, snakelike, crept and threaded their way in and out of the
rock island. Suddenly appearing caverns yawned wide agape, only to show
on closer approach that they were naught but gigantic rocks, hollow
within.
Though the gardens were bare of foliage, yet the spot shone out like a
jewel set in a magic river. Here was the perfection of art, that art so
complete that without the very things of nature which seem necessary to
a landscape, the cunning hand of man had fashioned the like out of the
hard and jagged substance of stone and rock. And in this the hand of the
Creator had aided, since the very rocks which formed this precious and
priceless island, the pride and wealth of the Lord of Catzu, had been
untouched by the tool of the artisan, for, having been gathered together
from all parts of the country, they were planted in their natural form
upon this island jewel.
Across the narrow river the shores were green, while beyond the silent
surface of the moats the granite walls of the Catzu palace rose to a
height, white and stately, tipped with golden towers and peaks that were
taller than the cedars and the pines centuries old.
A stir of expectation thrilled the Dewdrop tea-house, and then a clear,
shrill voice cried aloud:
“The Lady Wistaria passes into the honorable hall.”
The twenty geishas prostrated themselves at my lady’s feet. Gracefully
she returned their courtesy, begging that they would serve her and her
august guest, the Lord Tominaga Keiki, with refreshment.
The geishas, at this period in history occupying a high and dignified
position in society, expressed their wish to serve their lady for the
rest of their lives.
They brought the lovers fresh fruit, shining and luscious, and drink
from a well of sweetest and purest water. Humbly apologizing for the
honorable meanness of the refreshment, the chief geisha prayed that they
would condescend to pardon her, for not even in her dreams had she
imagined that the gods would favor her so soon in the season with such
august guests.
But the lovers only smiled benevolently upon her, and insisted that
never, no, never in all the honorable days of their lives, had they been
blessed with more gracious refreshment. Whereat the geisha, with many
low, grateful obeisances, retired.
The lovers sighed as in one breath.
“Once more alone,” said Keiki, blissfully reaching over the little table
and laying his own hands softly upon those of the girl. “How gracious
the gods!”
“Of a truth,” said Wistaria, smiling up at him; “we must repay the
gods.”
“We must, indeed. What shall we do? Build a thousand temples to—well,
which one?”
“I consider!” quoth Wistaria, thinking very seriously. Then, suddenly,
with a little, silvery laugh: “I have it. Let us deify my own august
uncle. Is he not the god who befriends us?”
“Not consciously,” said Keiki, “for I doubt not my Lord of Catzu would
fume and curse me roundly did he know I took advantage of his honorable
disposition to sleep.”
Wistaria laughed softly.
“Now I am quite ready to swear,” she said, “that of late my honorable
uncle is perfectly conscious when he sleeps.”
“Pray tell me,” cried Keiki, starting.
The girl nodded merrily.
“Will you tell me, then, how it is possible for one to fall asleep in a
small, rocking boat? Could you or I do so, my Lord Keiki?”
“Oh, not you or I; but your honorable uncle is divinely lethargic.”
“Then, my lord, he is but lately afflicted.”
“But I do not understand, then—you cannot mean—Oh no, it could hardly be
so!”
“And why not, my lord? To me it seems that even the gods must needs
favor you, much more an honorable mortal.”
“Your uncle favor me! It cannot be possible.”
“It is possible. It is so.”
“But he has been acquainted with me only for the past six days.”
“And does it take a year for favor to grow, when love—”
“Awakens in a day—an hour,” finished Keiki, rapturously. “No, I can see
how it is possible, but I could not at once realize my good-fortune.
Moreover—”
Suddenly he broke off as a melancholy shadow crept across his brow,
troubling his eyes. In a sudden depression he bent forward.
“My lord is troubled? Speak to me quickly.”
“Troubled? Yes, that is so,” Keiki sighed.
“Then do, I pray you, speak your trouble to me,” said Wistaria.
Immediately she threw herself at his feet, resting her hands upon his
knees and raising her face upward to his. Keiki took her face in his
hands. He looked deep into her love-lit eyes.
“Yes, I will tell you, little Wistaria,” he said, “though I fear you are
already acquainted with my secret.”
“I am not, indeed,” she denied.
“You do not know,” he asked, sadly, “that I am of the Mori clan?”
“Of the Mori clan! And is that all that troubles you, my lord?”
“And is not that sufficiently serious?”
“No.”
“But surely you must be aware of the feud existing between the Mori and
Catzu clans?”
“My lord, you and I do not constitute the Mori and Catzu clans.”
“You and I,” he repeated, slowly, “do not constitute the Mori and Catzu
clans.” Then, after a silent moment: “Alas, my lady, I fear we do!”
Wistaria snatched her hands quickly from his and arose. Certainly he
could not love her, she thought, if he allowed so small a thing as that
to distress him.
“If that be so—if that is what you think, my lord, deign to inform me
why you have condescended to make suit to me?”
“I was forced to make my suit in secret,” he said, almost bitterly.
“But your love is honest, is it not?”
“Oh, my flower-girl, can you ask that?”
She was contrite in a moment. Once more she was at his feet, kneeling,
and pressing both his hands with her little, slender, nervous fingers.
“Nay, then, do not look so sad, my Keiki. It troubles me that you should
allow so silly a thing as the differences of our respective clans even
for a fraction of a moment to come between us.”
“They cannot truly come between us,” was his fervid reply, “for no power
on earth can actually separate us now. Are we not sworn to each other
for all time—for all eternity?”
“Then why be so sad? You, who are so brave, cannot fear the dangers that
may beset our union.”
“No, no, it is not that. But—I sigh for the tears of others—our
honorable ancestors and parents.”
“Then do cease to sigh at once, if you please. Why, it is not such a
terrible crime to marry a Mori, surely!”
“No, I hope not,” said Keiki, smiling now.
“No, indeed, for my own honorable uncle committed that same fault.”
“Fault?”
“And I believe that if we were to go to him, and tell him the honorable
truth, he would gladly assist us.”
“Not if he knew all,” said Keiki, sadly. “No, he must know nothing yet.”
“Indeed,” said Wistaria, “I did not know the feeling of the Mori was so
bitter against us, and I do assure you that in Catzu the prejudice
exists not so much against your clan, as against your lord and prince.”
“Alas, that is too true!” answered Keiki, half under his breath.
“Well, a courtier’s loyalty to his Prince need not at all be shaken if
he marry the insignificant niece of a rival clan. My own honorable
father was of that very clan himself. Know you not that, my lord?”
Keiki groaned suddenly. Whereat the girl placed her hands on his
shoulders and forced him to look into her eyes.
“My lord,” she said, “do you know aught of my father’s history?”
Slowly Keiki drew himself up from her clinging hands. Placing one arm
close about her, he drew her to his breast.
“Let us no longer talk of these distressful matters.”
“Nay, I have asked you a question. Do, I beseech you, answer me.”
“What can I say?” His voice was very low.
“Tell me of my father—pray tell me,” she implored, almost piteously.
“Of your father? But surely I can tell you nothing that you do not
already know?”
“I know naught of my father, save that he was a Choshui samurai, and for
some honorable offence was banished by that wicked and cruel Prince of
Mori.”
Keiki was silent.
“I have questioned every one about me—my uncle, his samurai, the very
servants about the castle—but none will make answer to me, whether from
ignorance or by command of those in authority over them, I know not. Do
you, then, my lover, answer me.”
“My little flower-girl, I do not know the offence of your honorable
father, nor do I know why or wherefore he was sent into exile. I was but
a child of five when this penalty came upon him.”
“Then wherefore did you tremble and turn away your eyes when I spoke of
my honorable parent?”
“Because I know that injury of some sort was wrought against your
honorable parent by my—by the Mori, and since then so implacable an
enmity exists between our families that nothing but blood alone can ever
wipe away the stain. Think, then, of the wrong I do your father in
loving his own daughter!”
“No, no—dear Keiki—it is no wrong, I do assure you. If there be a feud
existing between my father and the Mori Prince, truly you and I, who are
innocent, cannot be implicated in any way, and, indeed, it is not as if
I were about to wed one of the Mori family itself, but—”
“In that case,” he interrupted, quickly, “if I were indeed of this Mori
family, what then?”
For a moment the girl recoiled, shrinking backward, and regarded him
with frightened, shocked eyes.
“That—would—be—impossible,” she said, and she shivered with
apprehension.
“If it were possible?” said the lover, hoarsely.
“It could not be,” she insisted, “for the Mori princes are proud and
ill-favored, while you—”
“While I?”
“—You are more beautiful than the sun-god.”
“But you have not answered me. Suppose it were—Prince Keiki, the heir of
Mori, who wooed you?”
“I cannot, my lord. Oh, the Prince is otherwise occupied than in
wandering with love,” replied Wistaria, smiling at the thought. “Why, he
is the head of a wicked party of Imperialists, I have ofttimes heard my
uncle declare, and is the most cunning and base fermenter of intrigue
against our august Shogun in the whole empire. Indeed, he has no time or
inclination for dallying with love.”
“But—if I were indeed he, what then?”
“Why, then—then,” said the girl, slowly rising, and regarding him with
shining eyes, “then still I would say, ‘Take me.’ What have we to do
with the quarrels of our ancestors, the wrongs or the rights of our
honorable parents? You and I are under the sheltering wings of the god
of love. We recognize no law of country, lord, or kindred. Let us go
into the mountains together and find refuge in a cottage where we can
live and love in peace.”
“Oh, thou dear one!” he cried.
“But why suggest such a horrible possibility?” she continued,
tremulously. “Thou art not that base and traitorous Prince? Thou art—”
“Thy love! That is all,” he said.
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[Illustration: Decoration]