During the short, uncomfortable meal Tora stood like a painted stake
behind his mistress's chair. The "boy," attempting to supply the
watchful efficiency his senior for once appeared to lack, kept his small
eyes darting from her white face to the "dirty wax" at the edge of her
plate, until Yuki thought she must deliver herself over to an attack of
laughing hysterics. Tora poured and brought her wine unbidden. Again she
resented his presumption, again felt a cowed sense of thanks for his
solicitude.
Abandoning the table at the first possible moment, she went swiftly
upstairs to her own chamber and rang for the maid. The simple morning
robe of smooth silk must be changed for a more elaborate afternoon
toilette. She selected a curdled gray cræpe with tiny silver pine-leaves
sprinkled through it. The under-robe was turquoise blue; her wide sash
of blue-black satin brocaded in conventionalized silver pine-branches.
The transfer went on with breathless celerity, yet the hands of the
mantel clock moved faster still. Ten minutes only lacked to the hour of
the Rat. The sound of carriage-wheels crunching gravel rose from the
drive below her. Yuki gave a restless motion of her entire body, and
turned her face around to the maid, who now tied the great loop of the
sash.
"Patience an instant longer, your Ladyship," smiled the maid. "Let me
but girdle your illustrious person with the obi-domé and I shall be
done."
"Here is the obi-domé," cried Yuki, her voice betraying her impatience.
"I shall retain one clasp while you wind it around the sash." She took
up from among the American toilet articles on her dresser the article
desired, a flat, soft braid of silk with golden clasps. Yuki, as she had
said, held one end against the front of her sash, while the maid
dexterously threaded the high sash loop at the back, and brought the
answering clasp to its mate. It clicked like an old-fashioned bracelet.
A servant knocked on the door. Yuki herself answered. With mingled
relief and perturbation she read on the cards the names of Mrs. Todd and
Miss Todd. It was an unfortunate time for their visit, yet now as always
the thought of Gwendolen's presence brought a little stir of excitement,
a sweet glow of true happiness. During her flight downstairs Yuki formed
the clearest resolution that had come to her in the distracting day. She
would tell Gwendolen of Pierre's presence. If help were possible,
Gwendolen would find a way. The new hope brought a little glow to the
face which greeted her American friends. A little talk on unimportant,
pleasant matters would refresh and steady her. For a moment only did the
bright illusion abide. Gwendolen and her mother bore, in common, an air
of hesitating excitement.
"Oh, what is wrong now?" cried Yuki to them both.
"Well, you _are_ quick!" said Gwendolen; "have we become mere
transparencies, or do your wits acquire a preternatural alertness in
these big rooms? Yes, there is something wrong--not fatally so, only a
menace."
"We felt it our duty, Yuki--" began Mrs. Todd, on her lowest register.
"Now, mother," Gwendolen interrupted, "you promised faithfully to let me
tell Yuki in my own way. You sound as if you hooted from a cave. It
isn't anything horrid, darling!" This last speech was directly to the
princess. "Don't begin to fade away. It is simply that Pierre, who has
been ill at the German hospital in Yokohama, escaped this morning, in
delirium, and the authorities are after him."
"In delirium--raving in _delirium_--the poor tortured boy!" echoed Mrs.
Todd's sepulchral tones.
"Oh, is that all?" breathed Yuki. Her face showed unmistakable relief.
Gwendolen stared at her, incredulous.
Mrs. Todd put up her lorgnette. "All! Did I understand you to say all?
Is it not enough? Have you known before to-day of his terrible illness?"
"No, indeed, I have not, dear Mrs. Todd. And by 'all' I did not mean the
heartlessness, as you think. I only meant--I meant--"
"Humph!" said the matron, suspicion deepening with the sight of the
young wife's confusion. "Perhaps Pierre has been here already. Has he
been here, Yuki?"
Yuki looked more embarrassed than ever. She hesitated the fraction of an
instant. Gwendolen's eyes sent out one hazel gleam. "No, dear Mrs.
Todd," answered Yuki; "Monsieur has not set foot in this house since my
first reception, many weeks ago."
"Humph!" said Mrs. Todd again, and closed her lorgnette with a
disappointed snap. "Well, there's time for him yet! You had better look
out, for if he is found here--" She shut her lips with a snap like the
lorgnette-case. Because of avowed sympathy with Pierre, the good lady
had assumed an air of displeasure with Yuki which all the new rank and
wealth could not overcome. Yuki, strange to say, liked her the better
for it. She hugged the memory of Mrs. Todd's cool looks as a fanatic
might have hugged his haircloth shirt.
Gwendolen had turned away. She did not wish either Yuki or her mother to
gain a hint of her personal thoughts. At Yuki's last statement, her
quick mind had supplemented, "He has not set foot in this house. No--but
the garden is wide, the steps and galleries inviting." Yuki hid some
gnawing secret, of this she was sure. More carriage-wheels crunched the
gravel and Yuki's heart at once.
"Ah," said Gwendolen, coolly, now beside a window, "here's the Emperor
come to see you, Yuki!"
Yuki ran forward gasping. Anything might have happened on this reeling
day.
"No," laughed the other. "I just teased you. But it is some magnate, I
assure you. My heavens, what a swagger!"
Mrs. Todd, hastening to her daughter's side, drew the window-curtain
farther. Her face glowed with satisfaction. "Prince Korin," she
announced, "he is a dear man! I shall be pleased to meet him again."
"Come along, mother," said Gwendolen, a little brusquely; "he hasn't
called on us."
"I sha'n't do anything of the kind," said the matron, indignantly.
"Prince Korin took me in to dinner last week at the German Legation.
Doubtless he will be as much pleased as I to renew the acquaintance."
"Please do not urge your mother to depart," Yuki flung back over her
shoulder as she went toward the door; "I want to speak with you,
Gwendolen, on some important matter." Without a qualm she delivered the
wondering peer into the outstretched hands of the American lady. Drawing
Gwendolen to a corner of the big room she said, in a low and agitated
voice, "He--that one we spoke--he is even now asleep in this garden. It
is terrible, but I could not send him off. I gave medicine; he was
nearly to die of great illness. Make no sound or look of surprise; no
one suspects, unless it is the butler, Tora. Perhaps you can help me.
What makes all more dangerous, more terrible, is a secret meeting of
state to be held here this very hour. Prince Korin is the first. You and
Mrs. Todd must go before Hagané come, or he will feel great anger to me.
Your father is to arrive. Oh, Gwendolen, do you see any way to save?"
"It is the most frightful complication I ever knew in my life," said
Gwendolen, awed for once into calm. "Why, of all days, should the
meeting fall on this?"
"Some terrible crisis in war. All may depend on this hour,--our very
national existence."
"I knew something was up. Dad is cross as a bear, and Dodge struts like
a turkey. Yuki, there is but one thing. Your husband must be told the
moment he enters this house!"
"Oh, if I could do that!" cried Yuki. "No such tearing thoughts could I
have felt. But he has given orders to me not to disturb his mind on
anything until this meeting has passed."
"Nonsense, you must disobey of course," said the other; "unless I myself
could get Pierre out of the garden." Her practical American wits worked
rapidly. "I can do it I think. You must have smaller gates to these high
walls."
"Yes, yes, on all other days," said Yuki. "But not just for this one
day. Everything--everything--for these few hours are bolted. I think it
to be karma, Gwendolen. No use to fight for me!"
"Now look here, don't go into despair so soon. You say you gave
medicine. Is it a sleeping draught?"
"Yes, first the strong fever-cure; then, half-hour later, a sleeping
potion. It is strong. It would keep the Japanese asleep for many hours."
"Go to your husband, Yuki. You must do it; never mind disobedience!"
"But if some strange thing that you, not being Japanese, cannot foresee
should hold me back, do you think there is other chance?"
"Of course," said Gwendolen, "everything is in your favor. He will sleep
until after the meeting, and then you can tell your husband. Only the
risk--even a tiny risk--is so dreadful I shrink from having you take
it."
"Yesterday Hagané said to me, 'A wise man never leaves something to
chance,'--only in such way does chance surely serve him."
"You'll come through. Don't you fret, darling. The police would not dare
search for him here. Ah, more statesmen!--this time in humble
jinrikishas. The prime minister in a street kuruma! It is time for me to
get mother away!"
Ignoring the scandalized side-looks of Prince Korin, Gwendolen stooped
to her friend, folded her very closely, and whispered a low torrent of
words of love, of encouragement, and of confidence that she did not
altogether feel. Fate hung dark banners on the false battlements of
Yuki's official home. The great square shadow, creeping now toward the
east, gathered dampness. Gwendolen shivered violently as she passed
under the porte-cochére.
"You needn't have been in such a nervous hurry, Gwendolen," said Mrs.
Todd, with tart asperity. "Prince Korin and I were having a delightful
chat."
A beggar, unusual sight for Tokio, crept in through the wide gates
toward the fine waiting carriage. The driver leaned over, menacing the
intruder with a long whip. Gwendolen stopped him. A sudden impulse made
her open and invert her pretty purse. A few silver coins fell into one
gloved hand. She leaned down, pressed them on the wondering supplicant,
and whispered in English, "You are a Japanese. You have a soul in that
foul body. Pray for my Yuki!"
Yuki welcomed the new arrivals, repeated her password, and ushered them
personally into the office. She stationed herself by a window, now
watching and praying that her husband might come soon, and alone. Three
more kuruma rattled in,--common street kuruma. In the first two were Sir
Charles and a Japanese cabinet minister; in the last, Hagané. The three
fell into deep speech before the drawing-room could claim them. Hagané
led them, as if by instinct, to the office-door. None seemed to perceive
the little hostess, clutching at a window-curtain.
"My Lord," she faltered, coming forward swiftly to within a few feet of
her husband, "may I speak--"
He turned half-recognizing eyes. "Who already have seats in the inner
office?"
She named the two men. "Two more of our countrymen and Mr. Todd to
come," he murmured. "That makes the number."
"Cannot I see your Highness a brief instant?" she pleaded.
Two more Japanese gentlemen entered on foot. Hagané conducted them to
the door of the office. Yuki kept close to him.
"Lord, Lord--my husband!" she cried in desperation.
The note of appeal at last carried. "Any personal matter must wait, my
child," he said, not unkindly, but with a decision that blighted hope.
"I thought I instructed you as to this also."
Minister Todd arrived. He appeared both anxious and excited. In his hand
he carried a leathern portfolio filled with papers. His nod toward her
had absent-minded indirectness. "Oh, Yuki, it's you, is it? I suppose
you have been coached. Have the rest come?"
"Yes,--in the office there, where I am to conduct you. May--may I speak
a moment, Mr. Todd?"
"Is that the office?" he asked, pointing. "I tell you, little Princess
Yuki-ko, big things are doing this day of our Lord. You wish to speak
with me?"
Hagané's face appeared between the portiéres. "Ah, it is his Excellency
of America. Now are all come. This way, if you please, Mr. Todd.
Remember, Yuki-ko, leave not this room until I speak with you again,
and, if possible, let no guest enter."
"My husband," cried the girl, "this matter on my heart is no light
thing. I must speak!" Both men turned, frowning slightly. "We cannot
attend to hearts just now, my child," said Hagané. "You must defer your
communication."
"That wasn't like Yuki at all to stop us at such a time," mused Todd, as
he followed his host. "Your Excellency," he said to the broad silk-clad
back before him, "are you sure that we did well to rebuff that little
girl?"
"I am only sure, this hour, that our land is menaced." Salutations from
the other statesmen interrupted this personal trend of talk.
They had passed into the office together. Yuki, standing alone in the
centre of the big room, wan with the new rejection, watched them with a
curious external interest, and dwelt in her mind upon the difference of
character exhibited in the two vanishing backs. The hollow brass rings
of the portiéres hissed and clashed together. A steady arm drew the
wooden panels of the door. She heard a key turn. She was alone on guard.
With a gesture so common to Japanese women she put both hands up lightly
to her hair, patting abstractedly the shining loops. A dizziness crept
under her eyelids. The ugly walls of the room began slowly to turn on
axes of silence. She felt her head droop with the strange drowsiness she
had known an hour before; a low moan came from whitening lips.
Staggering to a window she threw up a sash, flung the blinds apart, and,
clasping her clenched hands upon the sill, knelt, and let her head rest
upon them.
The inrush of the sweet spring winds, and this interval of quiet,
following so closely upon a series of bewildering events, brought soon a
balm of healing. Yuki had a nature essentially calm and self-contained.
Emotion stirred and sometimes swept her from her feet, but it was an
emotion that had no surface-play. Each quiver of her face answered but
weakly some fundamental throb of being. She had not the usual girlish
terror to bestow on scampering mice and dark corridors. Excitement
generally steadied her. The one unruly, unclassifiable influence in her
life had been Pierre,--his strange love-making, his exotic fascination.
In a little while she rose from her knees, drew a chair toward the
opened window, and seated herself. Her eyes, instead of seeking the
natural loveliness without, fell, in a new abandonment to thought, upon
the great bouquets of Hanoverian roses woven in the foreign carpet at
her feet. In the garden-bed just beneath her, bushes of daphne, of
azalea and the golden yama-buki were in bloom. A bird, swinging on a
spray of the weeping pink cherry just across the path, sang to
inattentive ears. Bees droned incessantly. From the closed doors of the
little office came a reflected murmur. Now from the blur of tone shot a
sudden slap as of a hand struck upon a bare table. A voice cried in
English, "Gentlemen! gentlemen!" and a chorus of voices, "Sh-h-h--."
Yuki caught herself back to the terrific import of the moment. What were
those great men thinking and saying behind the closed doors? And what
was her small single danger to the issues they represented? She walked
down the west wall of the room in the direction of the office. Two low
French windows, opening, indeed, to the very floor, gave upon an
uncovered balcony. She parted the glass door-frames of a window and
stood still, gazing outward, this way and that, down and along curved
paths where sunshine lay like yellow silk, and flying shattered waifs of
blossoms made wonderful wind-blown patterns. Her eyes clung longest to a
little path just skirting a great stone lantern, for this led to certain
tea-rooms at the far end of the garden. Now she walked slowly all around
the room, pausing at the main door which led in from the front hallway.
Footsteps were advancing. Yuki opened to them.
"The noble Sir Onda has arrived,--father to your Highness," said Tora.