The Curse of Koshiu Part 13

The betto was to return to Tsu at the top of his speed, with private instructions to the officers as to increased watchfulness. This scroll he would deliver to Sampei, and instruct him, at the peril of his life without delay to join his brother at the capital. The letter was so sternly worded that he would perceive he had been betrayed,--that the head of his clan was aware of his perfidy, and he would accordingly throw up the game, confess, and sue for mercy.

The Daimio himself and his following would, after a few hours of repose, push on to Ki[^y]oto. The rice of the men consumed, the horses fed, and a cup of sake all round, and then, away!

The landlord and his daughter; what of them?

The miserable peasant was quaking on the mat, groaning and wringing hands with incoherent supplications, deeply distressed in mind to think that through the blabbing of him and his the tyrant should have received timely warning.

To all posterity would their names go branded down, since but for their folly the bonds of their land would have been loosened. The girls, beside themselves with fear, crawled on hands and knees, imploring clemency.

Folding his arms, No-Kami looked down upon the supplicants, while his features were contracted by a spasm that might pa.s.s for a malignant grin.

"What of these?" he glowered. "Slash the father's throat; 'tis given to garrulity and chattering. The girls? Serve them as you will. What have I to do with vermin?"

CHAPTER XIV.

THE MIKADO DOES BUSINESS.

Since the return of Nara from his mysterious excursion, the interior of the sad prison-house of the Mikado was quite lively. The kneeling kuges chirruped like birds; their tall black headdresses waved and nodded like sable plumes in the wind. Excitement being contagious, the un-elect, who might not step within the sacred halls, laughed too and gabbled on the outer verandahs, showing their white teeth, and gossiping hopefully. They wist not why they were so light of heart; but if the privileged denizens of the lugubrious dwelling, usually so glum, were gay, it meant that the Holy Mikado was well pleased; and if the Fountain of Honour was content, it was clearly the duty of them, his lowly faithful ones, to vie one with another in sympathy.

After that terrible interview when he was publicly insulted before his court, the miserable Mikado retired into darkness, declining to emerge or to be comforted. He vowed that the three deposed Emperors who were mumbling prayers in remote monasteries were far better off than he, for they at any rate were left in peace, so long as they submitted quietly, and were pitied as well as loved by the Empire. The actual Emperor, so long as he seemed to reign, was held responsible for what was done, and he, unfortunately for himself, was of a conscientious turn of mind. The peasant man who, alas, too trusting, had confided himself to the safe keeping of the Holy One, had been torn from sanctuary, ignominiously executed, together with his innocent family, and the Fountain of Honour was aware that in the eyes of the people he must be a willing accomplice, or else the meanest of puppets. His conscience was torn by pincers. He ought somehow to have saved that family. Humiliation and shame gnawed into his vitals, as rusty gyves into the wrists. No slavery, he declared, while he crouched in his dark chamber, with drops of sweat upon his brow, could possibly be worse than his. A change of masters, if master he must have, would be for the better, since his plight could not be altered for the worse.

Not the lowest coolie,--the meanest Eta in his dominions, was of less account than he. If all these chattering kuges, who prostrated themselves so humbly, drawing in breath like humming insects, professing profound devotion, would only do something practical, then would he, the Fountain, sparkle with grat.i.tude, and profusely distribute benedictions.

Nara was a provoking person. Wise as an owl in aspect, his wisdom was much an imposture as that of the sapient bird. As usual he exhorted to patience, droned plat.i.tudes through his nose. The friends of that much-tried individual on a dunghill, whom Christians had been heard to prate about, were no more exasperating. When the octopus holds you with his tentacles in fell embrace, you must summon all your strength in a supreme effort to tear him piecemeal. A series of small struggles are mere waste of tissue. The Hojo, as all within the holy prison house were painfully aware, was a portentous octopus, more awful than any of the forbidding monsters, with arms of five feet and more, that are to be seen any day in the fish-market.

Those who would measure lances with him must be cautious--very cautious. Perhaps, looking back on history, the Fountain might remember Yoriiye, son of Yoritomo the Great, who, banished to the temple of Idzu, was compelled to shave off his hair. Objecting, he rebelled, and, to the general dismay, was found strangled one morning in his bath. The present Fountain was young and impetuous, a boy, and ignorant, and must learn to smile and wait--to smile and smile--and _strike!_ That he should have resolved on a change at any cost, was well. His trusty lords would beat about and see what was to be done.

Doth not the ratcatcher's cat hide her claws?--to serve her end perform miracles? With the stirring of the wind the heron rises from the stream. A little faith, and patience.

It was fortunate for the conspirators, headed by Nara, that after his deplorable exhibition of cruelty at Tsu the tyrant should remain quiescent. The snake, for the moment gorged, was comatose. Taking advantage of his absence and inaction, the Daimio of Nara threw his spies broadcast over the land--sent letters to absent magnates inviting them to unite and march for the emanc.i.p.ation of their lord from serfdom. He even sent privately to the Shogun at Kamakura, declaring that if any one was despot in future it should be he, since, by virtue of his post, he was the first General of the Empire, the legitimate leader of her armies. If the Hojo had been at Ki[^y]oto, and awake, these proceedings would have been at once detected, and crushed with an iron hand. Why was he so quiet in his distant castle?

When the message from Masago arrived, declaring that the Daimio of Tsu was sinking into lowest debauchery, willing victim of a harlot, Nara thanked the G.o.ds, and rushed to his imperial master. The other item in the communication--concerning the position of his own daughter--was a trifle. She also must practise patience. She would be amply avenged for present torment at the same time as the Holy Mikado. Was not this grand news, well worth a little waiting--a little suffering? Had he not been right--he, the h.o.a.ry one, the sage, the experienced, the prudent? They had waited, and the moment was at hand. In exultant joy he flung himself headlong on the mat, and embraced his master's feet.

Of course the latter was glad that evil should befall his tyrant; but Nara was always more glib with tongue than sword. A little patience, quotha. For patience the times were out of joint. A little action now.

Answers arrived from east and west, from north and south--some bellicose and ardent, some timid and time-serving. The Fountain of Honour deigned to come out of darkness like a snail out of its sh.e.l.l; but as he lay supported on his hand in the centre of the floor, his mien was so troubled, his young brow so puckered and scowling, that the kuges squatting around in a circle sat wistful, with heads on one side--motionless. For hours and hours he remained as inanimate as they--lost in gloomy thoughts and dumb abstraction. The prospect was too halcyon. The tyrant, firm in the toils of a low woman, might become sodden and besotted. What of the other--no less than he a Hojo--the idol of the army, bravest of the brave? The soul of loyalty (or his face belied him), he would stand by his brother, a tower of strength in an emergency.

Plausible and garrulous and self-deceiving as old men are wont to be, Nara had been quite wrong in his estimate of General Sampei. He, the General, had appeared distressed at the proceedings of his feudal superior. And yet could it be denied that he had calmly attended and approved that shocking ma.s.sacre,--had stood by with hands before him while infants were slaughtered,--had remained on the premises ever since, perfectly composed and comfortable? His face was a lying mask then. He was as bad, every bit, as his brother,--as much to be feared and hated; for since it was clear that he approved his acts, he would, of course, stand by him to the death.

Nara rubbed his chin, and whilst confessing that that much of the problem was at present not quite so clear as was desirable, stoutly declared that if the distant chiefs could succeed in quietly gathering their adherents, and, unsuspected, ma.s.s them within distance of the capital the desired end would be attained, Sampei or no Sampei. The Hojo must be lulled in false security, and awake to a sense of danger only in time to perish. In order to reconnoitre the ground, he, the veteran, would stir his old bones and pay a visit to his son-in-law.

There would be naught in this to raise suspicion, for what could be more natural than that a fond parent should make a pilgrimage to visit his only child?

He went, as we have seen, and in due course returned, so jubilant and radiant that even his glum master perforce believed in him. Their prayers were heard. The G.o.ds were sick of tyranny. The despot, blindfold, was marching to his fate. His foot was on the edge of the abyss. As the Fountain of Honour in his inspired wisdom had pointed out, Sampei was loyal to his chief, so far, but he was evidently full of disgust, uncertain what he ought to do, harried and worried, wretched. The citadel was more than half undermined already. He, the brilliant general, soldier to his finger nails, moved in a centre of undisciplined debauchery; listess, unshocked, uninterested. Why, a handful of ronins could take and sack in a trice the castle once deemed impregnable! The guards were wrapped in drunken sleep, the sentinels, absent from their posts, were engaged in uproarious wa.s.sail Not a peasant for miles around but would hail with joyous relief the advent of a new master; not a farmer or artizan but, with full faith in Koshiu's dying words, would look on No-Kami's downfall as retribution heaven-born. Nothing would be easier than, guided by peasants, to march trusty troops by night through the mountain defiles and take the castle by surprise. Sampei, half-hearted as he was, and preternaturally listless, would acquiesce in the inevitable (would be only too glad to do so), and, his brother slain--no longer tied by fealty--would appear in his true colours. In the absence of their hereditary chief, the braves of Tsu would lose their heads, throw down their arms. For the stronghold must fall in the absence of the Hojo, or the prestige that hung around his dignity might save him after all.

Just see how cautiously and well-prepared were the plans of the veteran counsellor. Hojo must be summoned to Ki[^y]oto on some business; then sent back with a reproof, to fall into a skilfully-set trap. Admitted within the walls that were once his own--but which would have surrendered in his absence--he could be seized and bound, and, in this plight, covered with the green net of dishonour, be exhibited before awed crowds, as a sermon against vaulting ambition.

So fluent was the old man, so completely self-convinced, that the Mikado revived and sat up, while the eyes of the circle of kuges goggled in their heads with mingled admiration and alarm. No-Kami, as we have seen, was sent for in peremptory fashion. The Fountain suggested timidly that this was rash, perhaps; and then old Nara laughed loud and long and savagely.

"Time was, O Holy One!" he cried, with wagging headpiece, "when 'twas I who prated of prudence. Now I say be brave! There is naught to fear: his claws are cut. I have looked on him! There is terror in his bloodshot eyes, dread in his shaking hands and shuffling footsteps.

The dying farmer called down a curse, and it works visibly, for his confidence in himself has gone--his belief in a lucky star!"

All this was vastly refreshing to the inhabitants of the palace, accustomed as they were to groaning. The Mikado, with mind at ease, sat on his lacquered chair within the white-curtained tent, and gave audience to all and sundry. The weather was bitterly cold.

A cutting wind blew down from the hills, sheeted last night with snow.

Nevertheless, so benignantly disposed was he, that the Fountain of Honour ordered the shutters of the Great Hall to be removed, that those without might see him, and fall in ecstasy upon their faces.

With a hibachi of fine bronze before him, clad in wadded robes with seven linings, his wizened visage was cut clear against the background by the towering black gauze leaf that he only of mortals was permitted to wear erect. Despite his wadding and his charcoal he was chilly; but what matters that when the heart is warm, the spirits high? The moment of triumph was approaching when he would claim an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,--exact a cry of pain for each that himself had uttered. Since the despot was already so stricken by outraged Buddha as to be spiritless, he, the Fountain, would improve the occasion when the culprit arrived, in order that all might perceive and applaud the seasonable resumption of his free will and dignity. Openly now he discussed with a.s.sembled kuges each succeeding step. Troops were already moving silently, under cover of the dark, towards the castle.

Others were approaching from afar in the direction of the central rendezvous. On the arrival of the culprit--news had already been received of his starting--he should be solemnly arraigned and admonished, then banished in disgrace to his lands at Tsu. There he would fall into the snare, be brought back with every mark of insult and ignominy to the capital--and then--and then! What was to happen after that was too delicious to be too promptly settled. It was a morsel to be turned over and over on the tongue, not swallowed with a gulp.

Both Fountain and attendant kuges were never weary now of discussing "what then?" Of course, the last thing of all was to be harakiri. This means of final exit he could justly claim by right of name and lineage. But before the final tragedy there might, if skilfully thought out, be endless shades of moral torture; and the kuges, squatting in a row, crumpled their foreheads and stared at the gold ceiling in the delightful travail of conception. Every one had an idea which required to be examined and considered, sifted, accepted, or rejected. Meanwhile the Fountain dribbled out wisdom, encouraged brains to nimbleness, distributed applause. One of the n.o.bles had an inspiration, whereon all his fellows cackled. There was a punishment that none had endured for years, but which might be revived with advantage for the behoof of the fallen Hojo. In a public place, before the a.s.sembled populace, a series of the lowest and dirtiest Etas were to be placed in a long line, with straddled legs, and under the arcade thus formed--a pilgrimage of consummate degradation--the humbled n.o.ble, on hands and knees, was to be condemned to crawl. An admirable suggestion! Traitorous n.o.bles condemned to this ordeal had been known to die from very shame--their soul crushed out of them, ere half the journey was accomplished. Sure the proud-stomached Hojo would not survive, and thus would go out of the world deprived of the honour of harakiri.

The Mikado, enchanted, could conjure up the scene. He longed for the moment to arrive when the culprit, erst so domineering, would shuffle in, nervous and unstrung. A new and charming sensation this to one who was wont himself to quiver. Yes, he longed for the moment, but the wretch should not be admitted at once. Certainly not. He should be shown his place; he who had ridden roughshod should be kept waiting in an ante-room. He----Hark! what sound was that? Rapid and dreadfully familiar? Could it indeed be? A footfall, too well known, was creaking quickly along the bare boards of the corridor. Shuffling, forsooth! it was as brisk and elastic as of yore. With a glance of dismayed reproach the Mikado turned to Nara, then concealed behind a fan his burning face. Nara frowned, surprised. The crouching kuges twittered.

Mice gambol when their hereditary foe is slumbering; then, when the green gleaming eyes re-open, scuffle into holes. For these poor mice there were no holes. The footstep was crunching--crunching on their hearts. Though it approached more near, more near, with dreadful swiftness, they might not move, since no shelter was at hand, and they had not wings to fly. Alack! with idle presumption they had uncorked a bottle, and out had popped a gin that spread his bat's pinions over the sky with stifling sulphurous stench.

Dread in his shaking hand indeed! Oh, Nara! Nara! Peeping nervously between his fan-sticks, as the commanding figure that he knew too well darkened the doorway, the Fountain of Honour perceived a threatening outline in which there was no sign of decadence. As with hand lightly poised on hip, and proud head raised, the Hojo strode into the Presence, the Mikado marked that he was pale and thin, but his eye, if bloodshot, was piercing as ever--fierce as the untamed eagle's. That Nara, who boasted of experience and ac.u.men, should be so grievously taken in. Well, well! it was all the fault of that old fool. The embroglio was of his making; it must be for him to get them out of the hobble.

But Nara, save for a deepening line between the brows, and teeth that bit the lip, seemed unaware of the apparition. Red and wrinkled lids blinked over glazed eyes which stared stonily into s.p.a.ce from under a white and s.h.a.ggy penthouse. The Daimio of Tsu, erect and menacing, glanced slowly down at the a.s.sembled lords, who, with bent backs, were contemplating the floor--then at the fan and bundle of silks which concealed the Fountain of Honour--then at the crowd without, who stood with craned necks on the verandahs, or grouped about the garden. From between his fan-sticks the Mikado followed the motions of the despot with increasing trepidation.

If only he dared to command the closing of the doors--but his tongue refused its office. Instinct told him that the cup of disgrace was again to be presented to his lips, and that it would be more bitter than ever to the taste. How hard was fate! Every one of the court circle--hatamotos, lords, knights, dependants--was to witness the unpleasing ceremony.

As the Daimio stood quietly glancing round without a word, the silence became each second less endurable. By bearing and power of eye, combined with an eloquent past, the tyrant held them cowed. Insolent!

He had presumed to appear in the presence in ordinary garb,--had not deigned to don the _Uye-no-Bakama_; or the regulation white silk shirt, or _[=O] Katabira_. And the att.i.tude of the courtiers, too! A pack of grovelling cowards! fine weather friends. A minute since they were gabbling, one against another, of future deeds of prowess--of dazzling achievements; now not one among the startled herd had courage to sacrifice himself--to save his lord from the dilemma. Piteously the Mikado looked at Nara, who made no response; then--since it was absolutely essential that some one should break the silence--he closed his fan and whispered meekly,--

"Lord Hojo, you are welcome."

No-Kami smiled, and remarked shortly,--

"Very welcome, doubtless. As I came hither I heard a sound of mirth--now all sit mumchance. Had I not received a special summons, I should have deemed I had intruded."

The smile and accents of studied courtesy were more galling than rude speech, to which all were well accustomed. 'Twas as when a tamer of animals flicks them playfully with a wand. They are too docile to need whipping, yet, pending possible contingencies, 'tis wholesome that they should receive a tap.

Suddenly dropping the tone of banter, the Daimio strode nearer to his master, and sternly said,--

"May I know why I was summoned? No matter. I have come, and, being here, will ask a question. We are at peace, I think. During the weeks of my retirement I have heard no news of war. Why, then, a stir of arms,--a movement of troops,--marching, countermarching in the night?

What is the subject of offence?--is it with China or Corea?"

The sinister eye of No-Kami fell upon Nara, who calmly responded,--"I know nothing."

"You lie!" retorted the Hojo fiercely. "Oh, base and double-faced and craven! False and deceitful is the blood of Nara--rotten is stock and branch! You and your daughter are alike."

Without changing his att.i.tude one t.i.ttle, the old man slightly raised his brows.

"My daughter!" he said, with exceeding calm. "Forbear to breathe her name. You have broken her heart; driven her to the gate of Death. I ought to have known that none but a savage was a fit mate for Hojo."

"Pretty innocent!" sneered No-Kami, lashing himself to frenzy as he advanced towards Nara, hand raised as if to smite. "Know that your pure white blossom is my brother's paramour!"

A flush pa.s.sed over the grim features of the old Daimio, then left them pale. His master nervously scanned the kuges, whose heads were bent lower than ever. From no quarter was there succour against this octopus. The Mikado fairly jumped in his seat when No-Kami spoke again.

"You, boy," he said, "see to this matter of the troops. They were summoned without your knowledge, I am willing to believe, by others, who never troubled to consult one so feeble. Or shall I, since you have called me to your side, undertake to relieve you of the task?