THE rapping on the temple doors was not loud or menacing, but it was
insistent, questioning. The Tojin-san drew the fox-woman to the winding
staircase which led up the seven stories to the tower above.
Once before Tama had been sent up yonder. Then she had gone willingly,
even frantically. Now she made no movement up the stairs. Instead, she
turned her back upon them, and faced the Tojin fairly. Upon her face a
smile shone luminously as a star. Simply, steadily, she laid her hands
in those of the man.
For a moment he held them in his own, his eyes fixed yearningly upon her
face, and even while the knocks resounded louder upon the door the
clouds cleared from his mind.
Looking into those uplifted, adoring eyes he forgot all else. A sound
that was half a sob, half a passionate cry escaped him. He reached out
irresistibly and took her into his arms. For the first time his lips
hungrily, passionately found her own, and clung in a kiss that over all
the years of a lifetime neither he nor she might ever forget. They saw
nothing, heard nothing, felt only that close, encompassing embrace that
made them one indeed.
Then upon their dream at last broke the lowly calling, almost whispering
voice of the one without. They drew apart, though their eyes and hands
still clung unconsciously together.
“Sensei. Sensei! Sensei!”
It was the voice of the student, Junzo!
With a low cry, the Tojin was at the doors, wrenching and tearing the
great images away with the strength of a veritable giant. At last the
doors were reached, and these in turn thrust aside.
There, with their anxious, faithful young faces pale with apprehension
in regard to his fate, were his three loyal boys, Junzo, Higo, and
Nunuki. They fell literally upon him with tears and shouts of joy. They
devoured him with their youthful embraces. Higo clung to one hand, Junzo
to the other; and at the back of him Nunuki hovered, seeking to examine
the wound upon his neck where the sword of the Daimio’s high officer had
pierced. It was healed, so well had the fox-woman cared for it.
Now, step by step, slowly, uncertainly, she crept toward them,
white-faced, wild-eyed, every nerve in her thrilling, and reaching out
blindly for the arms that had held her, the lips that had clung to her
own. But she stopped with her tragic little face clasped on either side
with her hands as the joyous voices of the students reached her. They
were telling the Tojin of the coming of his friends to Fukui; of the
return of the Echizen Prince; of the punishments to be meted out to
those who had attacked him; the rewards for those who had defended.
“Even we,” said Higo, with boyish pride, “are to have our due reward,
for we have honorably been chosen as the body-guard of the Be-koku-jin
(American), who has come to Fukui to minister to the unfortunate one,
and to take her, if your excellency is willing, to the capital.”
“The unfortunate one?” repeated the Tojin dully. “To whom do you refer?”
The boys stared at him in round-eyed amazement.
The fox-woman of course! Who else? That unfortunate one to whom the
whole heart of Fukui had melted like the snows of her native mountains
in the Spring. It was the work of the Tojin himself that had
accomplished the miracle; for he had pointed out to them all the
absurdity, the wrong of the ancient superstition, which had been kept
alive chiefly throughout the years by the hatred of those who were
ignorant or fanatic.
Now the Prince himself was convinced a wrong had been committed, and
Fukui was taking its cue from him. The friend of the Tojin coming at
such a time had also had its effect upon the people; and now the
remorseful ones were prepared to atone for the past if that were
possible. It was the suggestion of the Be-koku-jin, however, that the
girl should be taken out of Fukui.
Her history had created a sensation among her father’s race in Tokio,
and there they were eager, anxious to receive her among them. But it was
for the Tojin alone to say. The change of heart in Fukui was complete.
There was nothing further to fear.
“Even I,” said Nunuki with Spartan-like courage, “am prepared to look
upon her. We have learned from the tongue of our own Prince and from the
Be-koku-jin that many females of your race have her skin and hair and
eye-color. Is it not so, honored teacher?”
But the Tojin-san was silent. His face had turned strangely gray; his
arms hung limply by his side. He was staring out before him fixedly as
though he saw a vision.
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[Illustration]
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