The Breath of the Gods Part 42

"What!" cried the other, in mock astonishment, "you have an upstairs, and beds for me to fling my wraps upon, and a brush and comb, perhaps, for me to rearrange my locks!"

"Come see!" challenged Yuki. They ran off together, Yuki darting up the steps, Gwendolen catching at her flying heels, both laughing, giggling, uttering short shrieks. "Well," panted the American, sitting p.r.o.ne upon the top step, "it seems that life is going to be worth living after all!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Except in rare cases the ceremony of marriage among j.a.panese is still unmodified by foreign innovation. These people prefer to regard it as the most intimate of social functions, a family sacrament, a transition to be made in grave silence, not in the buzz of comment. Congratulations may follow, they never precede, a wedding.

In the case of Prince Hagane, his official necessity for a wife appeared significantly enough in the engraved cards of invitation, sent out by hundreds, to announce weekly receptions (beginning with a certain Friday) held by the Prince and Princess Sanetomo Hagane in the residence of the Minister of War. That word "War," printed so smoothly among high-sounding t.i.tles, bore little relation to the dark clouds of conflict pouring in about Port Arthur and spreading a sombre pall above Manchuria. Dark, too, was the shadow cast upon the hearts of loyal Nipponese. For a lull had come, a mysterious silence. Explanations were not offered to the people. Dead bodies or fragments of bodies, were still brought home for burial; new troops, by midnight, threaded city streets and crowded the railway stations, bound for the front, yet no sounds of battle came. It was as if a wheel had stopped, throwing out the entire mechanism of a well-ordered campaign. At the Imperial Palace in Tokio conferences were held daily, Hagane, of course, being present.

Sometimes Sir Charles Grubb and his American colleague were called.

Yuki noted the deepening gloom on her husband's brow. In his scant hours of home-staying he seemed, now, only half-conscious of her existence or its relation to himself. Once or twice he had roused himself to answer kindly enough some question of hers regarding the coming reception.

Meanwhile Gwendolen and the young wife were together daily. The "old times" at Washington, to which they so often tenderly referred, as to an epoch centuries removed, gave promise of recrudescence. They laughed, giggled, ate olives, made fudge, and otherwise enjoyed themselves. If the absence of Pierre and the buoyant Dodge saddened at times these innocuous revelries, each girl hid her own regret.

Mrs. Todd, as Gwendolen prophesied, had melted instantly. The friendly visit of the Princess Hagane, the gentle pleading of the schoolgirl Yuki, unchanged in spite of her new glittering husk of rank, surprised that small camp of prejudices in its sleep, and soon waved a bright laugh of victory. At the next visit of Mrs. Stunt, however, before the Medusa-like disapprobation of that n.o.ble countenance, Mrs. Todd froze timidly again, to be again sun-thawed by Yuki, and recongealed by Mrs.

Stunt, until the will-power of the good lady took on, through too frequent tempering, not, indeed, the elasticity of a Damascene blade, but rather the pithiness of an honest vegetable left in a winter nook.

During a softened interval Mrs. Todd had promised to stand in Yuki's receiving line. Even at the moment she had given a few sentimental sighs for Pierre, and made a mental reservation that she would "explain" to his satisfaction. When Mrs. Stunt turned a hard, reproving eye, she fain would have rescinded altogether, but this time both Mr. Todd and Gwendolen upheld her. Thus bravely seconded, she dared for once defy her mentor. Mrs. Stunt made gestures of acrid resignation, and turned her face away. During the afternoon she concocted several choice paragraphs for "The Hawk's Eye."

A clear, blue day in early March dawned for Yuki's first reception.

Sunshine coaxed new flowers from the springing lawn, and rolled apples of joyous discord among the crows and sparrows. The two chief decorators, Gwendolen and Yuki, had not dared to rely on the day for external brightness. Draperies added to the long shapeless windows hung ready to exclude sunshine and storm alike. At Gwendolen's suggestion, candles and quaint candelabra were to give the key-note to decoration.

Old junk-shops and second-hand dealers in temple bra.s.ses had been rummaged with rich results. Branching cl.u.s.ters of tapers sprang everywhere from plain s.p.a.ces on the walls. Standing candelabra and quaint single candlesticks occupied tables, mantels, and the tops of cabinets and book-shelves, alternating with bowls and vases of cut flowers. The wall-lights, placed tactfully but a few feet above the head of an average man, threw into softened shadow the vast and disproportionate ceiling. Yuki's delight was pleasant to witness. She never could have dreamed--as she often told her friend--that the old lecture-hall could look so well. The garish hangings and unspeakable oil-paintings became inconspicuous, and were further softened by wreaths of smilax and other imported hot-house vines. As the opening hour approached, Yuki became more and more excited, though her efforts after matronly calm were apparent. Even the knowledge that Pierre would certainly come that afternoon should not daunt her. Nothing had been heard from him since that one interview at Kamakura. Of this Yuki had not spoken, not even to Gwendolen. Well, let him come, and give her pain! She deserved it! Still would friends be left, Gwendolen, and Mr.

Todd, and the dear mother, Iriya, and--and her husband, Hagane. Her troubled heart faced round to him, but it was as if she stood before a stone precipice. He was too great; she too close.

All through the forenoon of that busy day presents had been arriving.

The flood-gates of official recognition had been thrown wide. Gifts of flowers, of fruit in wonderful baskets, of growing plants in exquisitely glazed hana-bachi, came in embarra.s.sing confusion. Baron Tsukeru, who united a pa.s.sion for j.a.panese peonies to a more exotic devotion to orchids, sent a great lacquered tray heaped with broken rainbows, h.o.a.r-frost, and strange, flying insects turned to flowers. Old Prince Shirota, who had been present at their marriage, sent to the prince and his new princess a box of eggs, together with a humorous poem, saying, "May each smooth egg betoken a life of wedded happiness, and may each year bring an heir. So shall joy and the house of Hagane be immortal!" A cabinet minister sent a case of champagne, also with a poem; but his was paraphrased from Tennyson. Sweetmeats, oranges, and loose flowers came literally by cartloads.

The great central offering, however, was a heap of exquisitely wrought confection representing blue waves, with a pair of Miyako-dori, birds symbolic of conjugal felicity, floating upon the sugared sea. This gift, placed reverently upon a little table to itself, needed no card. Upon the unpainted side of the satin-wood box in which it was fashioned, shone the Imperial insignia, a gold chrysanthemum with sixteen petals.

The master, twice during the forenoon, had rolled up to the door in his carriage, gone into his private office, closed the doors tightly, and busied himself with desk-drawers and papers. In a few moments he emerged and drove away without having spoken. On a third visit, he came into the drawing-room, in search of Yuki. She and Gwendolen were at the far end, both looking upward and talking (one in English, one in j.a.panese) to a bewildered servant on a stepladder, who paused to listen, his face copper-yellow among the loops of smilax. Neither heard Hagane until he was fairly upon them. Yuki gave a start; but Gwendolen brought down level eyes and smiled at him. He spoke first to the guest, holding her hand closely for an instant, and uttering some conventional, though, in this case, sincere expressions of grat.i.tude for her kindness to Yuki. He then asked of Yuki the exact hour at which the reception was to commence. He spoke in English. "Four, your Highness," answered Yuki, in the same tongue. "I shall be in this apartment at four," he said, and then took his departure.

The two friends watched through the window as he stepped under the porte cochere and entered the carriage.

"Your husband is a king among men, my Yuki."

"It does not become a j.a.panese wife to admit so."

"The hair he leaves on his barber's floor tingles with more manliness than the whole body of Pierre Le Beau."

"It does not become the one who has made Pierre suffer to say so."

"Pshaw! Nonsense! He enjoys his suffering. But of course I might have known you would make some such retort. Do you want me to try to keep him away from you this afternoon, or is it part of your penitence to a.s.sist him in insulting you?"

"Oh, help keep away, if you can!" gasped Yuki. "Prince Hagane will be standing by me then. I wish most of all for him not to be annoyed."

"I wonder whether you realize, small Princess--" Gwendolen began, then suddenly stopped. Her look, as she scrutinized the upturned face, was singular; her tone, more curious still. She closed her lips tightly now, as if to forbid the thought to come, shook her blonde head, and facing back to the window tapped a hollow rhythm on the pane.

Yuki's cheeks grew hot. "Some one--some one need me, I think," she murmured, and literally ran from the room.

Prince Hagane, punctual to the instant, fresh from the hands of his man-servant, impressive, unforgettable, in dark native robes of silk, took his place at the head of the receiving line. Yuki wore a robe and obi of splendid brocade, too heavy for an unmarried woman, but now befitting the dignity of a peeress. The colors were her favorite gray and pink, shot through with threads of silver. In her dark hair were pink orchids, the living flowers. She wore no jewelry but a broad gold band on her wedding finger,--a concession to her Christian principles,--and a clasp to her obi-dome, or flat silken cord which holds the great folds in place. This clasp represented intertwisted dragons. Like the ivory pin which she and Pierre had broken, it was an heirloom in her father's family.

The new kinswoman, little Princess Sada-ko, was to be near her, above Gwendolen in the line, but lower than the matron, Mrs. Todd. Mr. Todd had "begged off." So also had Yuki's parents. Onda, in fact, spurred by his dread of meeting foreigners, found good pretext for visiting a village nearly a day's ride away.

Guests had not begun to arrive. Even the Todds (Gwendolen had gone home two hours before to change her dress) had not yet made appearance.

Hagane stood quietly in his place, and let his gaze move slowly through the changed and decorated rooms. The candles gleamed with intense yet softened brilliancy. In an adjoining parlor he could see the corner of a long table spread with rich food. Servants in livery moved about, noiseless as shadows. A distant door was opened. The flames of the candles leaned all one way, fretted a little, then stood upright. A few drops of wax trickled over to the floor. Instantly a servant came with knife and saucer to sc.r.a.pe up the hardening substance.

The old Prince Shirota sat in a low chair near the fire, with a late American magazine on his silken knees. Iriya hovered near, devouring with proud eyes this vision of her daughter consorting on equal terms with princes. Servants stole everywhere, soft, sleek, gentle, like well-fed animals.

A curious expression grew in the eyes of Hagane. His mouth writhed into a harsh and ugly smile which did not pa.s.s. Yuki felt the change in him, glanced up, and shrank a few inches further from his side. He did not notice her. He had been reading, but a few hours before, the written report of a j.a.panese spy, one of the few who had escaped alive from the very citadel of Port Arthur. The conditions of that fortress were plainly stated: food in abundance, ammunition, men, stone walls practically impregnable, a brave man in command,--all things in Russian favor; and yet by j.a.panese life that stronghold must be taken, by death the national honor be restored. As their Emperor read, and laid the paper down, he had bent his head, as if praying, and one hand had covered his down-bent eyes. Hagane shivered at that memory. Hunger, privation, cold, the agony of wounds untended, the deeper agony of remembered little ones soon to be fatherless, praying now in distant mountain villages,--this must the j.a.panese know to full measure. Food and shelter in Manchuria could alleviate, and for such alleviation, money was the only aid. Food, clothing, shelter, ammunition! Why, the very candles fanning out a brief existence on these walls would feed a brave battalion for a week! The table yonder, spread with delicacies for foreigners already gorged,--that long table would bring peace nearer by a hundred cannon detonations. The outer world, civilization so-called, demanded that tawdry ostentation still show her front.

"My Lord--your Highness," whispered Yuki, barely touching his sleeve, "has aught offended you?"

He looked down into her anxious face. His n.o.ble scorn melted into sadness. "Nay, Yuki, I was but counting the lives of soldiers by these candles on the wall."

"Lord, so have I thought, even to the point of weeping; yet you had told me to make some display, to have things fair to look on."

"I blame you not, my good child. There is no fault at all in you; yet the smell of that rich food sickens me. I long to be in the field with men; to share their handful of cold rice, their shred of salted fish. I hate the silk upon me, the soft rug at my feet, the smiling servants,--how can they smile? When the foreign manikins arrive, it will be hard fighting for me not to laugh at them,--to throw, like some stung cuttle-fish, the inky substance of my scorn--why should they laugh and feast? But, little one, I rave. You have never heard the old volcano growl before? Well, I shall be calm now; let us draw pink clouds about me, and set spring flowers among the fissures of my soul."

"I fear you not, my Lord, I but adore your spirit. I, too, in my weak woman's way, have had a thought. Shall we not purchase less rich food another time, and fewer candles? Instead, I shall buy thread and cloth and cotton. I will this very day invite the women here to weekly meeting for sewing. Princess Sada has been telling me that many are already started. We can make bandages, clothing, cover for your brave men. Into the texture we shall weave our very hearts. Tears of pity may, indeed, soothe n.o.ble wounds no less than the ointment of our surgeons. Shall it not be so, my husband? May I speak to my friends to-day?"

Hagane had lifted one hand to his mouth while she made eager speech. It was steady enough when he answered. "You have pleased me, little one, greatly have you pleased me. I shall speak of this even to our Sacred Sovereigns."

Gwendolen came bounding in like a child. "Do you recognize me, Yuki?"

she cried, pitching her long cloak backward. "Of course Prince Hagane would not."

She stood before the two, a shimmering vision of white, touched at intervals by gleams of primrose hue. Hagane smiled. "If I mistake not greatly, it is the entire costume worn by Miss Todd when first I was honored to make her acquaintance. You called the ball a debutante's I think."

"Heavens, Yuki, think of his remembering! I see now, Prince Hagane, that you are truly a great man. What on earth have you been doing to your prince?" she added in a lower tone, as Hagane stepped forward to greet Mr. and Mrs. Todd. "He doesn't look a day over thirty-five, and handsome--He is the n.o.blest-looking man that ever I saw!"

Mrs. Todd, resplendent in her favorite mauve satin, violently adorned in b.u.t.ter-colored lace, took her place next to Yuki. She liked well the importance of the position, yet kept furtive glances scurrying toward the door in outlook for Pierre and Mrs. Stunt. It was the apparition of the latter that she dreaded most. She trembled in recalling Mrs. Stunt's threat of forbidding and condemnatory conduct. "Not in Yuki's own house, my dear Mrs. Stunt," she had pleaded. "Don't go to the reception at all if you disapprove so of their behavior. Wait until you meet them outside." To this Mrs. Stunt had replied only by tight lips, and a glance of incorruptible virtue, as one who should say, "Get thee behind me, Satan!" Mrs. Todd envied her friend the rigidity of her moral nature.

Mrs. Stunt came among the very first. Although small in stature, she never failed to make herself conspicuous. She had acquired an air of patronage, of condescension. If a person or a group of persons continued to converse within the first few moments of her appearance, she had a way of looking at the offenders, of singling them out, that was never thereafter forgotten. On this occasion she was resplendent in a new gown of silvery gray silk, very tight as to bust and hip, and a trifle scanty as to skirt. A reason for this insufficiency showed in the yokes and sleeves of the Misses Stunt, lank, timid damsels of fifteen and thirteen respectively, who followed with unquestioning eyes their energetic mother. Each had a pinkish frock hung from a "guimpe" of silvery gray.

Kind-hearted Mrs. Todd literally held her breath as this important person bore, like a small nickel-plated naphtha launch, straight to the dark sea-rock of her host. The tight gray waist had the sheen of armor.

Mrs. Todd watched for the steely reflection in her friend's bright eyes.

They were now lifted to the face of Hagane. But no!--barbed lightnings did not flash admonition from their depths. Never were blue china beads more free from righteous indignation than those upraised orbs. She literally grovelled, first at the feet of Lord Hagane, then before his bride. Yuki received her gushing compliments with unsmiling lips. This made no difference. The Misses Stunt were then signalled to grovel.

Mrs. Todd's mouth, opened in incredulity during this brief scene, had forgotten to close. Something like indignation tingled through her full veins. Was Mrs. Stunt after all the hypocrite Gwendolen said she was?

"Mrs. Stunt!" she called eagerly. Surely some explanation could be made.

The valiant one swept by her with a nod. She gave but one short sentence, back-flung, "Dear Mrs. Todd, how very warm you're looking!"