FACE TO FACE.
When the panic-stricken servants rushed into the castle with their
appalling tale, there was general consternation. They had been
attacked, they swore, by a band of at least fifty ronins. By the last
act of the doomed chatelaine she had won back the respect of the
warriors, for they perceived, too late, that her gentleness had naught
akin with cowardice. Resuming her fit position by force of princely
dignity, she had become a liege lady of whom they could be proud. They
felt pangs of remorse, too, in having allowed her to sally forth by
night unprotected by soldiers. Yet, if they had not cared for her, it
was well known that the peasants did, who vowed she was a saint. And
sure none could ever have supposed that there were any, even in this
bad world, who could be so wicked as to do her to death thus cruelly.
The country far and near was scoured, but no trace of a gang was
found. The thickly-falling snow had obliterated footmarks. On the
fatal spot, seek as they would, nothing was to be found but the
overturned litter and mutilated remains of their mistress--hats and
garments scattered here and there--and the bodies of the drowned
bearers. At dawn, the sad _cortege_ returned home with its freight,
having learned nothing; and then a feeling of uneasiness came over the
samurai as to what my lord would say. He neglected and disliked his
wife, but would surely retaliate swiftly and fearfully upon those
whose carelessness had led to so gruesome a catastrophe.
As for O'Kiku, whom all avoided now as if she were plague-stricken,
she remained secluded in her chamber, transfixed with growing wonder.
The blows of the assassins were aimed at herself--of that she had no
doubt--and she had been saved by a miracle. Yet who could there be who
wished to kill her, unless it were O'Tei or Masago? Of course, it was
not O'Tei, or she would never have marched thus deliberately to her
own undoing; and as she was on her way to the temple, summoned
thither, it could not be a plot of Masago's, for Masago loved her
dearly. The more she thought it out, the more incomprehensible grew
the whole affair, and at last she was fain to put it from her as a
mystery which time might some day decipher. One thing, however, was
plain. By a wondrous stroke of luck, the position of herself, O'Kiku,
had vastly improved. A stumbling-block that threatened to become
troublesome was swept out of her path. So soon as my lord should learn
her secret, he would, if skilfully wheedled, take to his arms, as his
first wife, the mother of his child. She would be consort of the Hojo,
chatelaine of Tsu, and as she thought of it, her bosom glowed with
gratified ambition, and she there and then determined that in the
smiling future the castle should contain no concubine.
At early dawn the good-natured bonze hied him down from the mountain
to visit his revered patient, and greatly was he shocked by the
spectacle that met his view. On the threshold of the Abbess's chamber
stood Mine, with finger on lip, and a far-off vacant look of dread
that betokened incipient madness. Her father's curse was falling with
leaden weight upon the members of the devoted family, and as she
beheld the swoop of stroke after stroke her soul was withered within
her. She too--she whom he had repulsed unpardoning--she too was doomed
with them. What would her end be? Entering the room of Masago with
accustomed listless step to attend to duties, she had stood riveted as
she read the full horror of the scene. On the floor was Masago,
delirious; close by crouched her shuddering son, clasping
something--something terrible--in his arms.
From that moment till the arrival of the friendly bonze, Mine had
stood a faithful sentinel, lest peradventure prying nuns might learn
and spread the truth. Should it become known that Sampei--the once
dear Sampei--had been guilty of this awful crime, the town would arise
as one man to tear him limb from limb. The young priestess was not
capable of deciding what was to be done, but the friendly bonze would
think for her, and propound the words of wisdom. Little by little the
first distracting throes of misery passed. The Abbess grew calm, and
with the death-sweat came resignation.
The gods, ungenerous and mocking, had fooled their handmaid. Instead
of being turned from their purpose by her puny supplications, as she
had arrogantly dared to hope, they had singled her out, with a
consummate refinement of cruelty as their chief implement of
vengeance. By her hand--the hand of the mother and the friend--were
stricken down the apple of her eye--her son, and the sweet lady who
had loved and trusted her. And in them was she not herself
smitten--ay, so crushed and beaten that naught could hurt her more?
Alas! alas! that she should have been so blinded as not to take
warning by the fateful year--the last of yaka doshi, and have kept
herself from dangerous meddling. What should chance henceforth she
cared not. Since all were condemned, the sooner fell the last and
fatal stroke the better,--on the dear head of the son she loved so
fondly--on all. As for Sampei, he appeared as if changed to stone.
In the presence of so intense a depth of black despair, Mine
trembled--the kindly bonze was awed; for sure there is no sight so
pitiful in nature as the whirl and flood of human anguish whose
torrent we may not stem.
It was essential that some plan of action should be decided on
forthwith; and the bonze was of opinion that the secret of who it was
that had done the deed for the present must be kept. Gently raising
Sampei from his attitude of utter abandonment, and taking his treasure
from him, he led him into the temple, and placed it within a bronze
coffer of exceeding sanctity which stood beside the altar.
"He alone who can act," he said, "in such a crisis, is my lord of
Nara. To him will I go forthwith."
On foot, with staff and scrip, he made the pilgrimage to Ki[^y]oto,
wrapped as he journeyed in holy ecstasy, thanking the gods for their
goodness. Were not the wicked who are set in high places sometimes to
receive their meed, the faith of man in truth and God and justice
would wane and crumble. As the dragon that browses on the white flesh
of innocent young maids is slain at last, so was it to be with the
Hojos. Their cup was full. For some good and occult purpose beyond
purblind human ken, the scourge for generations had afflicted the
earth, but now was the limit placed. Awakening Buddha had said, "So
far shalt thou go and no farther, for the punishing of the
transgressions of the people." The limit was reached, and now Buddha,
merciful, would hold his hand. But how subtle was the means of
retribution--so subtle, that as he contemplated it, the bonze was
overcome with wonder. Not only was each member of the family to perish
miserably, but the nearest and dearest the agent! A woman was to be
butchered by him who to save a hair of her dear head would gladly have
sacrificed his life. A man was to be brought to a condition worse far
than the most lingering of deaths, by the mother who, to save him from
a pang, would have bartered her hope of Nirvana.
The bonze, travel-stained and weary, sought my lord of Nara at the
Mikado's palace, and found him without difficulty; for it was the
policy of that crafty daimio to be of easy access to the people. He
was buried to the lips in papers and despatches, for the die was cast
now; it was to be a hand-to-hand tussle for existence. Either the Hojo
must fall, or they would all be sacrificed. Answers had been received
from country magnates. Despite peremptory orders from the Hojo, they
were advancing by forced marches. They had gone too far for retreat.
To obey the tyrant without a struggle for freedom was to condemn
themselves to life-long bondage. What of the Corean army once
commanded by Sampei? the magnates inquired. What of the thousands of
disbanded ronins? Would they side with the despot, or unite for the
saving of their Emperor? "Tush!" Nara muttered, as he wrote replies.
"Have not I, the shrewd and the astute, considered these matters? The
mountains about Tsu are teeming with faithful men in ambush. When
these marching daimios reach their appointed posts, the Holy City will
be surrounded by a protecting girdle; and then--and then--we may act!"
But Destiny amused herself as usual by thwarting the intricate plans
so carefully conceived by mortal ingenuity. Is it not always so? If we
arrange a sequence of events for ourselves, does not something always
intervene to mar and derange the scheme? Perhaps in the next life, or
the next after, we may be permitted to settle things for ourselves.
Clearly in this one it is forbidden. First it had been arranged that
the Hojo was to be caught in a trap in his own castle. Since then the
aspect of affairs was altered; for after a few days passed in the
Golden House among his vassals, their master had again mysteriously
gone into retirement. Spies informed Nara that he was heard to groan
at night,--that he saw visions, and dreamed dreams of strange and
mystic import. He had relapsed into the previous state, as before he
came up from Tsu. Had not wise Nara said that his energy was the
expiring of the lamp. This being so, difficulties were delightfully
smoothed, and Nara was able to improve the occasion for his master's
benefit, by pointing out how admirably sage he had been in the keeping
of his temper. Is not time the healer of all wounds? A scandal in the
palace had been averted. The claws of the bear were rotting piecemeal.
So soon as the circle of iron was complete it should close in and
crush the tyrant, while a simultaneous movement would be made on Tsu
for the capture of his brother and retainers.
And a few hurried sentences from the lips of a simple bonze upset all
these elaborate calculations. He hearkened to the dolorous tale, with
a choler that might not be suppressed. This was too much! Old Nara had
allowed himself to be bearded. Under great provocation, he had curbed
his wrath,--had swallowed his pride, and waited. But now he might wait
no more. What, his heiress, his only child, the only bearer of his
august and honoured name, was to be openly and cruelly slain, because
her lord was weary of her, and wished to please a wanton! As with
hands behind his back, and distended nostrils, the stately veteran
strode hither and thither in the chamber, his old eyes flashed fire as
of yore. In truth, under the snows, the volcano had slept, and,
stirred to its centre, now blazed forth. Come what might, with his own
shrivelled arm, since he had no son, would he wipe out this stain, or
be dishonoured for aye in the noble annals of Japan. Narrowly he
questioned the priest. Then the bonze had no idea, he said, who had
been the butcher? It mattered not. There was no one but the Hojo and
his wanton who desired the poor lady's death. It was at their bidding
that the crime had been committed. First the Hojo and then his harlot.
The fortress should be demolished stone by stone, the geisha executed
on its ruins.
As he hearkened to the wrathful diatribes of the now furious lord, the
bonze mused in ever-increasing admiration. Verily the working of the
divine decrees is worthy of humble worship. The priest had promised
Mine that Sampei should not be betrayed, 'Twas probable that when he
rallied, as human nature will rally, to some small extent, however
severe the shock, the rest of his days would be spent in the holy
garb, and that comfort would come to him at last. For public
edification and example, the soldier's remaining years were to be
passed in prayer. The Hojo himself was to fall by the hand of Nara;
that much was evident now, and it was fitting as well as just.
He who was wont to be over-prudent, even under stress of extreme and
unendurable provocation, now threw prudence to the winds. Without
delay he girded on his swords and dirk, mounted his horse, and
galloped to the Golden House. Consequences were as rice straw in the
wind. To fight and kill another daimio within the sacred city--within
a given distance of the palace, meant death by harakiri. Himself to be
slain meant confiscation of all his goods. His goods! a fig for them!
He was childless now, and honour is worth more than goods.
Peradventure when the stain had been wiped out, the Holy Mikado would
forgive, in consideration for past service. No doubt he would be
grateful for the removal of the incubus. If not, what mattered it? The
childless old man would die, having saved at least his honour, and to
the paltry dross of this world his sovereign lord was welcome.
Hearing the clatter of a single horseman's hoofs, the watchful samurai
at the gate of the Golden House came forth and shaded their eyes with
their palms to reconnoitre the visitor. Among themselves they were
somewhat disturbed, for rumours of approaching troops were rife; the
warriors of other magnates were unfriendly to the dominating one; and
their lord was curiously inactive. Indeed, for the last day or two, he
had not stepped abroad. That he was at home, and sick, was evident,
for they could hear his muffled ejaculations; and now and then his
distempered visage peered from an upper window with disordered mien,
gazing on the wood and lake. The Daimio of Nara, with care upon his
brow--in haste--unattended--alone? Strange! But events were moving
strangely. The father-in-law of my lord; his parent's chosen guide and
counsellor. With respectful salutes and genuflections the Daimio was
allowed to pass. For of a certainty my lord required helpful counsel,
and Nara, all agreed, was the very prince to give it.
The new-comer dashed past without deigning notice, nor drew rein till
he reached the entrance of the villa. The heavy foliage of the
surrounding pines was bowed down with a glittering burden; the
picturesque lake, with its rocks and tiny islets, was frozen over, and
on its surface wandered painfully and slow the myriad of black
tortoises that usually slept beneath. A haven of peace and rest, an
oasis of silence in a sea of turmoil. Even the sentries, who slowly
marched before the doors, seemed under the spell of winter, their
senses blunted by the nipping air.
The whirling mind of Nara was too much engrossed to heed such trivial
matters. Flinging his bridle to a sentinel, he inquired where was his
master. The man pointed upward with his lance, but added in troubled
accents, that my lord was sick,--had given special orders that he was
on no account to be disturbed.
"I have come to cure his sickness," the old man said, with a grim
smile of peculiar meaning. "I have brought him medicine. See that we
are left alone."
The Golden House, as we saw when we were here some time since, is a
dwelling of small proportions on the lake bank, built of wood, with a
huge towering roof bedizened with much gold. The upper chambers are
reached by a ladder-stair of extreme exiguity, so frail and narrow
that one person only can mount at a time, and only then by bowing his
head.
Nara's tall and bulky form had much ado to reach the landing; but,
arrived there, he loosed his katana in its sheath, and, with a
strength, for which none would have credited him, seized the ladder,
and, wrenching it from its iron fastening, hurled it clattering down.
The paper windows were closed; the light was dim; a voice, tuned low
by world-worn weariness, demanded who was there.
Nara strode into the inner room where, wrapped in quilts, the Hojo
lay, a hibachi close at hand, his swords in their rack beside him.
"_You!_" he said, rising to a sitting posture.
"I," was the rejoinder. "I, _murderer!_ The father of O'Tei, the wife
whom you have slaughtered."
No-Kami looked dreamily at the figure that stood over him, then felt
his garb with a vague, uncertain movement of twitching fingers.
"Murderer?" he muttered, with a cynic's laugh.
The wrath of the old man flared up. Grinding his teeth, he spurned the
prostrate figure.
"Yes, murderer!" he hissed, "and I, the father of your victim. No one
can interrupt us. O'Tei is dead--you know it--and by your decree. Only
one, if one, will leave this room alive. Have you any manhood left,
degenerate spawn of tyrants? Take up your sword, and quickly, or I'll
slay you like a dog, as you deserve."
Had not the old man been so distraught he would have seen by No-Kami's
face that the intelligence was bewildering news to him. He sat gazing
at his persecutor open-mouthed, till he, goaded beyond control, smote
him with flat blade across the face.
It left a livid mark, the rest of the visage purple, the veins swollen
and congested. With a hoarse growl like an animal at bay, No-Kami
sprang to his feet, seized his katana, and attacked the aggressor with
set teeth. Glaring one at the other, with starting eyeballs and
foaming lips, the two--the old man and the young--fought on in the
small space and the dim light. Both were too furious for caution, and
hacked each at each, smearing walls and floor, without a sound but
labouring breath and clashing steel. The old man, taller, with longer
arm, was getting the mastery. He had step by step driven No-Kami to
the corner, where stood an idol of bronze, against which he leaned.
Uncovering himself to deliver the final blow, he slipped in the blood
upon the floor, and received the point of the Hojo right through his
breast, below the nipple. Dropping his weapon, and flinging up his
arms, he fell with a sob upon his back.
No-Kami withdrew his sword and wiped it carefully, then sat him down
to think.
O'Tei murdered! By whom? what for? It must be true, or the crafty old
lord would never have been driven to such frenzy. It was quieted now,
that same frenzy, however. He lay still enough, his skin as grey as
was his hair. "Not my fault," No-Kami murmured, with compunction; for,
debauched though he was, the Hojo had respect for bravery. "He has
brought his end upon himself. Now, what of me? Who will believe me if
I say that one who was the soul of caution came and smote me like a
rat? Within the prohibited distance, the Mikado's favourite
counsellor, and I so ill, so spectre-ridden." Clasping his burning
forehead in his hands, No-Kami looked hungrily at the dirk which
seemed to invite him from its rack, and thought, as he had once done
before, that it would be well to make an end on't. Not yet. He was
taken by an uncontrollable desire to know more of the tragedy at home.
O'Tei murdered! The words seemed burnt into his brain; and as he
contemplated them, with her father dead at his feet, an ineffable
sadness--a cold sense of extreme loneliness--crept over his soul. The
past rose up before his vision. For a little while they had been
happy, he and the fair O'Tei. She had been cold and haughty and
repellent, despising him always, and that had maddened him. And was
she not right to do so--fully justified? She was better than he,--far
above his level, and it was this that had made him hate her. But did
he hate her? No! Now that she was gone, he became aware of a singular
sensation. Down in the deeps of his being there was a profound pity
for her fate. Why did he feel so lonely? Why did he shudder at the
shadows whose chills encompassed him about?
Who had planned her murder? Like a green ray of lightning it flashed
on him--O'Kiku! His curse and hers. Oh, wretched, infatuated
man--O'Kiku! Poor O'Tei, murdered by her rival! The punishment of the
concubine was the only reparation possible. She should be punished. If
he was to leave Ki[^y]oto unmolested, there was not a minute to be
lost. The ladder was gone, the distance to the ground but small.
No-Kami, his nerves strung again by a distinct purpose, moved to the
verandah, and swung himself down its column. With steady tread he
appeared before the sleepy sentinel, and with stern, sharp accents
issued his instructions.
"My horse Typhoon, quick. I need no followers. The Daimio of Nara has
gone the other way. Close up the house--nay, I will myself fasten it.
Double the sentries. Keep watch and ward. Let none, on whatever
pretext, set foot within the boundaries."
As he clattered away on his favourite charger at full speed, the
samurai looked after him.
"Ticklish times," muttered he who was in command, "each moment fraught
with peril. My lord of Nara, no doubt, has given the best advice. My
lord is gone to act on it. Well, well, the gods be praised, our chief
is himself again!"