Wingfield Lewis
The Curse of Koshiu: A Chronicle of Old Japan

CHAPTER I.
BOY AND GIRL

It was towards the end of the fourteenth century that the grandeur of the Hojo family rose to its acme, then fell with awful crash. The feudal story of the Land of the Rising Sun is a long dark chronicle of blood and tears, of crime and rapine, of vengeance and vendetta, out of which there glints at intervals a gleam of glorious heroism, of holy devotion, of pure love and unsullied faith.

In the stately roll of the great names of old Japan, there is none so terrible as Hojo. From time to time the patient people were ruled by one race or another of despots, cruel and selfish; the most cruel of all, the Hojos. Even now, after five hundred years of war and havoc, of vain aspirations, power misused, and wrecked ambitions, mothers still hush their babes to silence by breathing the dreaded name. The most destructive insect that ravages the fairest island in the world-the most voracious and omnivorous-is yet known as the Hojo beetle. When the first of the line erected a strong fortress-the Castle of Tsu, which will serve as background to many scenes in this our chronicle-he gave to it a bloody baptism, by burying beneath the foundations two hundred living men. Although their baleful course was marked by an ensanguined streak like a gory finger drawn across a map, they were not all black, these gruesome daimios, or even Buddha, whom we know to be deaf, and prone to somnolence, would earlier in the day have bestirred himself to punish them. Maybe Buddha drinks too much saké, for though we piously crack our finger-joints, and beat our palms, each morn at sunrise, and bang the gongs and pull the bell-strings each evening in the temple, he recks little of mere mundane worries, letting things go from bad to worse in grievous fashion. And yet, once roused to wakefulness, his vengeance is swift as the typhoon, as destructive and as sweeping.

No. The lurid Hojo cloud that for a hundred years brooded over long-suffering Japan, had silver breaks in it. The Mikados, as nominal rulers, dwelt at Kiŷoto; while the Shoguns, as military viceroys, reigned at Kamakura; but the dominating family, as wire-pullers, directed their movements from behind. The father of Hojo No-Kami, last of the race, had his good points. None of his supercilious ancestors was more superbly overbearing, more sublimely indifferent to human pain; and yet his worst enemies were compelled to admit that, if stern, his rule was sagacious. The Mikado, and his court of kugés or lords-in-waiting, shivered before him, for his dirk was loose in the scabbard, and the order promptly to depart into another world by uncompromising harakiri was ever trembling on his lips. During his career three emperors had been summoned to shave their heads and retire into monkish solitude, each puppet bowled over in its turn for daring to dispute his will; and yet the very fact of his disdaining to mask the iron hand under the glove of silk, even in dealing with the highest, compelled the unwilling admiration of his turbulent and light-hearted countrymen.

The upper class-Samurai, two-sword men, hatamotos, soldiers-could appreciate his martial bearing, as, in gallant bravery of scarlet armour and gold-studded helm, he rode forth to battle, with his martial wife beside him. For the beautiful Tomoyé was a fit mother for lion whelps. Of great personal strength as well as graceful carriage, sheathed in armour like her lord, astride on a swift horse, she was ever in the van of conflict. With her own hand she cut off the head of a rival daimio who crossed swords with her; and when her lord died, pierced through the heart by an arrow she fought till she fell beside him. The lower class of the unarmed-mechanics, mere farmers, paltry merchants-could also from their inferior standpoint admire their ruler, whilst grieving at his rough treatment of the Holy Mikado-mystic head of all-for he protected the workers of the hive from the depredations of other tyrants. The burthen of taxes was nicely weighed to suit the backs of the bearers. The ken of the Hojo was as piercing, and minutely attentive to details, as it was farsighted. A petition from the elders of the meanest village was sure of immediate attention. No petty feudal master, however recklessly bold or savagely contemptuous, dared to overstep his rights.

The result of the adamantine rule of the last Hojo but one was peace. The land that was given over usually to turmoil and bloodshed, with intervals of complete anarchy, enjoyed rest for fifteen years, during which the despot set himself to consolidate his power, and fix yet more firmly the family yoke on the necks of lords and people.

He had two sons, the elder of whom-by Japanese paradox-was treated as if he had been the younger. Sampei, three years older than No-Kami, was the offspring of a second wife or concubine. The latter, heir-apparent, was the whelp of the war-queen Tomoyé. Now in Japan concubinage is a recognised institution, and the son of the handmaid is no bastard. And yet the child of the bondwoman is not co-heir with the child of the free. The latter, in the case of a great family, is undisputed head of the clan, and to him the former owes allegiance, however much older in years, in the same degree as lesser clansmen. The institution is so firmly welded into the constitution of the land as, save in a few cases, to preclude jealousy.

Of course, as in all Eastern countries, ambitious men have striven to supplant their brothers-have hacked off their heads and reigned in their stead-but this does not affect the principle. The two sons of Hojo grew up side by side in perfect amity. Together they learned to ride and wield the sword and spear under the approving gaze of their martial parents. They were both soldiers-with a difference. Even Tomoyé was forced to admit that of the twain Sampei, son of the concubine, was the most promising. His nature was clear and bright as running water, simple and unsmirched, unlike that of the heir-apparent. None more brave than he, more quick and skilful with his weapons, more ready to smite hard and heavily; and yet on occasion he could be soft and tender as a woman. A polished politeness and chivalrous demeanour were so innate in him as to win the admiration of the ladies. For seductive luxury he had nothing but contempt. No-Kami, on the other hand, if brave and skilled in arms, was fierce and selfish and debauched; overfond of the harem and perfumed bath and saké cup; sullen, too, as an ill-conditioned animal; brutal to women, ruthlessly tossing them aside like shattered toys when sated with their charms. People nodded their pates and whispered of him the timeworn proverb which says that there is no seed to a great man. In sooth it has ever been a common thing in this otherwise favoured land to see a great house crumble into speedy ruin through the supineness and debauchery of its sons.

There was no need for anxiety as to the future of Sampei. A soldier and a gentleman to the tips of his trim finger-nails, his career, in the most war-ridden of countries, was carved clear before him. It came to pass that Corea, conquered long since by the Amazon Empress Jingo, threw off allegiance.. Who more fitted than doughty young Sampei to reduce the rebel to obedience? Accordingly, five years before this story opens, the gay young general, full of life and hope, and rippling with high spirits, bade a respectful farewell to the father he was never to see again, a more tender one of his fond mother, Masago, who, like many another discarded concubine, was now the Abbess of a convent, and sailed with a fleet and army for Corea, whence news arrived from time to time, praising his deeds of valour.

As for the future of No-Kami, it was more difficult to prophesy, and his parents were no little anxious. His prospects were splendid; but although his father had endeavoured to foresee contingencies, and build barriers against accidents, the path of the next tyrant must needs be beset with thorns. His rôle in the future would be arduous, thick strewn with snares and difficulties. To keep the entourage of the Mikado in subjection-to hold the daimios-powerful and wealthy princes as sturdy as the barons of the English John-in the requisite condition of meekness, would require more statecraft, diplomacy, and force of iron will, than could be expected of a model youth. And No-Kami, as we have seen, was by no means a model youth. None knew better than his astute and experienced parent how difficult to a young man this task would prove; none was more distinctly aware of the frail tenure of a despot's life. At any moment he, the father, might be taken, and what then would happen to his boy?

Treachery stalks through the history of Japan. At any instant the dominant Hojo might be murdered under his son's eyes. Would the self-indulgent No-Kami be prepared with vigorous promptitude to avenge the slain, and, seizing the dropped reins, pursue his policy? Both father and mother sadly shook their heads. Even their partial vision could not but perceive that the hope of the house was a leper, abnormally sinful, inclined to become a sybarite. Was this young man to be left to steer the bark without a pilot? Certainly not. In case of anything unexpected arising, a staff must be prepared for him to lean upon. A man must be placed by his side, old in years and in experience, whose position and wisdom would command respect, whose interest it would be to bestow sound advice and timely sage reproof.

What better guide than a prudent father-in-law? What surer loadstone to lure an embryo debauchee from the muddy byways of low company than a beautiful patrician bride? one of the pure and slender, refined and high-bred maidens of noble lineage-fair and sweet as the fragrant mountain-lily-who now, as five hundred years ago, are the brightest glory of Japan.

A crafty combination this on the part of the warrior-statesman, which would doubtless have been crowned with success, if he had not chanced to live in a world where mischievous spirits delight in frustrating plans the most cleverly matured. Tomoyé heard, and listened dubiously. Even among the most elevated Japanese, as well as in the highest European circles, papas and mammas will differ as to the ideal bride. What was the precise article that would suit No-Kami? Unfortunately there was not time to have one specially ordered. Since perfection is chary of repetition, it was not to be expected that another Tomoyé-a stern yet loving lioness-could be found for the precious youth. Indeed, so recreant a scion was he of the stock, that he might have objected possibly to a muscular and fiery wife whose pastime was the chopping of heads. And yet not so. A true lion-whelp was he in blood enjoyment. Even the low-born Geisha singing girls who stocked his harem, had often cried under his buffets, and shouted shame, with tears, at his barbarous treatment of his servants.

Alas! how sad it is that even the most sapient in mundane experience will be guilty of errors sometimes that are patent to the lesser fry. Is it over-anxiety that blinds them? The problem was to put the finger on a great noble-daimio among daimios-who could compare in descent and grandeur almost with the line of Hojo; who, of weight in counsel, and rather cool than hot, would stem precipitate rashness. He must have no son, and but one daughter, and devoid therefore of the ambition which accompanies male issue, must adopt his daughter's husband as his son; and by thus uniting the two families in closest bonds, make their interests identical. The child of the magnate (given that the two were found) must be mentally perfect, and a vision of corporeal loveliness.

"My dear!" quoth the broad-shouldered but practical Tomoyé, as with one eye critically closed she assayed the temper of a brand new sword. The lady was apt to get vexed when her lord grew warm and garrulous. "My dear," she observed, "we have many rounds of mortal life to climb ere, reaching the summit, we attain Nirvana. Though you are good enough to be blind to my blemishes, even I am not quite perfect. Perfection, in our present low cycle, is so very scarce, you know." With this she beamed upon her lord, whilst artlessly belying her words by approvingly fingering her muscles. She was inwardly aware, with pardonable pride, that no other daimio's daughter could boast such an arm as hers.

My lord was provoked, and rubbed his nose. When you are erecting airy towers, practical people are exasperating. It was evident she had gained a point, so she proceeded to follow it up.

"Where in broad Japan do you propose to seek these paragons? This pink of perfect daimios, and his yet more model child?"

There was a tendency to irreverence in this tone, which required nipping in the bud. The eye of the Mikado's master shot forth a gleam, before which even the lioness cowered. When his mind was made up, the Hojo brooked no argument.

"Be it as you will!" Tomoyé dutifully murmured. "My lord is all-wise, all-powerful; his wife his willing slave. Go forth and seek the paragons, and let us hope you will find them soon."

To please him whom she loved best on earth, Tomoyé made believe to be convinced; and yet her woman's tact whispered down in the deep recesses of her manly bosom, that my lord, for all his wiliness, was wrong; that he was building a fool's paradise far up in Œther, out of which her dear boy might tumble.

Curious to relate, the paragons concerning whom she was tempted to be disrespectful were not far to seek. With but little hocus-pocus father and daughter were conjured on the scene, as absolutely the "very thing," to all appearance, as the cunning Hojo had conceived them. He declared as much at least, and dutiful Tomoyé acquiesced, slightly pinching her lips in silent protest. Instead of the "very thing" which was to bring about complete success before its time in our weary pilgrimage of cycles, the mother's instinct beheld with prophetic vision, in the proposed alliance, the worst elements of discord and defeat, – of so dire and dread a tragedy as should shake Japan to its centre, and annihilate the dominating house. Yet who was she, the warrior wife reflected in her humility, to set up puny instincts against the ripened statecraft of my lord? Her muscles were better than her brains. Should she presume to know more than he who held in his hand Mikado, nobles, people? – whose nod was law in the land beloved of Buddha? who had preserved it from contamination from without? Her place was to bend before the will of the dictator, and offer prayers for her husband and her son.

* * * * *

The most perfectly poetic spot in all poetic Japan, whose ensanguined history is made beauteous to the eye of a fastidious posterity by the flora of chivalry and valour, is Nara.

Lovely and secluded, sweet-smelling and umbrageous Nara! The Nara of to-day-how much more the Nara of five hundred years ago-suggests to the incursive foreigner a bit of Eden's garden.

In very early times the central mart of Japanese opulence (which ebbed by-and-by to Kiŷoto), it came after a while to be recognised as the special home of holiness. Accepting the better part, it exchanged the shimmering sham glory of mundane ambition for the sheen reflected from above. Some twenty miles from Kiŷoto-time-honoured residence of Mikados, and therefore a sacred city-the small town of Nara stands on a plain surrounded by rugged hills. Passing through low grey streets, leaving on the left a huge and ornate pagoda, you enter a tangle of wild greenery-an ideal wood of immense cryptomerias darkling skyward after light. A jungle of variegated foliage, so sweet and fresh, masks half their altitude, while the undulating ground beneath is broken into verdant waves chequered with blossoms of all hues. This forest is vast and silent, save where a white-robed group of pilgrims saunters along its glades-undefended by barriers, save those of religious custom. And what more tough than they? If sprightly and given to skull-cracking, the Japanese live in terror of their deities, who without exception are vindictive. Buddha and the lesser lights are awful and threatening and ever-present, and the favourite hunting-grounds of Buddha are the hallowed groves of Nara.

The thickets teem with game. All kinds of coy animals which usually flee at sight of man, here hold undisputed sway. The intruder is on their territory, and they let him know it. The timorous doe stands with soft unstartled eyes across the path, sniffing with moist nostrils the expected cake. And if the white-clad pilgrim should have striven to combine economy with cure of soul by investing in cheap offerings, the scornful stag and his following will shake their ears, and bound away to relate to the gods the insult. With head on one side, birds look critically down from boughs, nor think of flight; hares, taught by impunity, instead of making off, white scut in air, groom nose with paw, undaunted.

Hidden away, centre of an intricate labyrinth-enclosed in many courts, each hung with myriad lamps in bronze-like fringes round the eaves-stands the Holy of Holies, Buddha's hunting-box, wherein a band of virgins perform weird shinto rites for the behoof of awe-struck pilgrims. At stated seasons this bevy of priestesses, emerging from strict retirement, performs the kagura, a slow swanlike measure, with many and intricate figures and waving of fans and bells and kerchiefs, accompanied by priestly flutes-which (doubtless good for the soul, since its weary length is interminable) is soothing also to ear and eye, for the ladies are graceful and slender in their loose red trousers and gossamer robes, their long locks flowing as they float to and fro, with a background of gold screens, and beyond the antique forest. How peaceful a life, free from sordid cares, must these holy damsels lead! Far from the fretful striving of the churlish world-its hate and jealousy and bitterness and disillusion-no call to arms or shock of war invades this calm retreat. They share ungrudgingly their Eden with the beasts and butterflies, guileless and content as they, strumming the three-stringed samisen, sailing through maze of solemn kagura, doing tender service in the temple.

Among the troop of maidens was one who wore no religious habit. Although she had taken no vows, priests and virgins loved her as much as if one of themselves. Brought up among them with the hares and birds for comrades, as stately and as gentle as the deer, she shared from childhood, being motherless, their pure and contemplative life. Strangers often said that the fairest thing in lovely Nara was the tall and pale O'Tei. Some compared her to the unblown white lotos as it sways dreamily in the breeze. Others dubbed her pearl; but later all agreed that young Sanjo the armourer was delivered of the neatest simile when he fashioned a white fawn of purest silver and gave it to the maiden for a hairpin. As a child she had always been still and given to day-dreams, peering into the flowers as if she could read secrets there, or gazing into the opal sky in search of angels, or watching the pallid stars as they glimmered forth out of the deepening blue. Yet was she as gay as the chirping cicadas in the trees, as light and fleet as her four-footed friends, as, pattering on dainty clogs in wayward mood, she would leave the forest for the town, and peeping in at Sanjo's, shake an arch finger at the brawny armourers, while they wiped their swart brows, and laughed.

It was by a whimsical coincidence that the celebrated family of Sanjo, from time immemorial armourers in chief to the Mikados, as the Miochins were to the Shoguns, should have set up the forge, emblem of war, hard by the sacred wood, the type of peace. But so it was. Indeed, as I write, the existing Sanjos occupy the ancestral dwelling. They are poor now. Their occupation is gone, for civilisation and European ways have stepped in and ruined them. At the period which occupies us, the blowing of the forge-bellows and the welding of iron on the anvil were in curious contrast to the surrounding calm. Many lords who came hither in pilgrim guise to improve their soul's estate, looked in at Sanjo's ere they went away, to buy new blades and armour. The holy forest was an oasis of peace in a world of uproar; for was not the castle of the powerful lord of Nara but a mile beyond the town; and did not close by (happily concealed by a hill from his proud gaze) the fortress of the Daimio of Osaka rear its majestic front, home of his hereditary foe? Of course it was enough for two great feudal lords to dwell cheek by jowl for them to hate one another cordially. These two were as jealous as two rival beauties. The outer moat at Nara was wider than that of my lord of Osaka, but then the interior of Osaka's stronghold was the more splendid, and its armoury more richly furnished. Hence frowns and jibes and backbitings from generation to generation, varied now and then by siege or battle, accompanied by fire and massacre.

Among the many who were firm friends of the Sanjos, was, naturally enough, Sampei. Of course, so gallant a young gentleman could wear no armour but Sanjo's, could wield no sword but one that bore his mark. One morning, standing beside the anvil, and laying down the law to an obsequious audience, on military subjects, he beheld, framed in the doorway, such a delightful vision, that his heart gave a great thump, and he dropped the precious blade, whose temper he was critically testing by the bisecting of a coin. It was only for a second. Startled by the apparition of a distinguished stranger, and grown unaccountably bashful of a sudden, the blushing and beautiful O'Tei cried Oh! and, turning on her clogs, scampered back into the wood, whither the inflammable Sampei would swiftly have followed, had he not been restrained by the armourer.

"Beware!" the latter whispered, grasping him tightly by the skirt. "That maid is not for thee! The heiress of the Daimio of Nara will look higher than a soldier of fortune!"

Sampei laughed, to conceal his annoyance. It is exasperating and humiliating too, to a handsome young soldier, who as such adores the sex, to be bluntly informed that the loveliest girl whom he has ever looked upon is hopelessly out of reach. And yet he could not deny that his friend was right. The White Fawn of Nara might never be his, for one so noble and so fair could command the most splendid of partis. But was that any reason why he should not look at her? He was heartwhole. No doubt of that. His soul was devoted to his sword; but, as dashing young warriors have done time out of mind, he liked to dally with maidens, and the prettier they were the better. Instead of purchasing a blade and departing straightway, he all at once became fastidious. This one was too light; that one ill-balanced.

Japan is the land of blades. From the tail of the Dragon was born the sword which the Sun-goddess bestowed on the first Emperor. By the sword of the clustering clouds, Yamato-Daké subdued the East. It was quite fitting that our young general should be particular. Sanjo produced in vain his rarest achievements. There was "Knee-cutter" and "Beard-divider," unrivalled masterpieces, which Sanjo himself so loved that he had always declined to part with them. But there was no satisfying this capricious and arrogant youth. Sanjo would be good enough to set himself to work and create an inspiration; and Sampei, to whom time had all at once become no object, would remain at Nara and superintend the progress of the miracle. And so it came about that the blade, taking long to make, O'Tei (curious, after the fashion of maidens) came pattering along the street, just to see if the young warrior was gone. Oddly enough, he was still there; with face towards the door too. This was well, if strange; for he was comely; extremely civil, to boot; courteous, and vastly respectful; could troll rich snatches of merry song, and tell diverting tales with dancing eye and glittering teeth; while as for his smile, it did one good to bask under it-so bright it was, so warm and genial, exuberant with bubbling youth.

The brawny workers at the anvil vowed with grins and nudges that 'twas charming to watch these two-she, the type of the patrician beauty of her country-complexion of palest olive, nose aquiline, cheek bones a trifle high, perfectly moulded chin and throat, eyes and hair a deep black, the former raised the least little bit in the world at the outer corners-as she lounged in a steely kimono of finest crape drawn up over one of scarlet. And he was in his way as bonny a spectacle. Exceeding dark of skin; of low stature, as are most of the Japanese, but admirably proportioned and muscular; his luxuriant sable locks (shaven away in the centre, lest the eyes should be obscured in battle), fastened in two tresses at the back, while a becoming blue fillet bound his temples, knotted at the side in a bow.

I am afraid I must admit at once that Sampei, to whom I am very partial, was a sad flirt. He invented appalling tales of death and slaughter, for the pleasure of seeing the cheek of O'Tei grow whiter, then set himself to woo the delicate sea-shell colour back with well-timed jest; and was flattered and pleased to find that he could learn to play upon her as on some fragile instrument. To the girl his radiant advent was a strange and wondrous break in the sweet monotony of years, – a revelation like the raising of some veil that masks the infinite; and she marvelled vaguely whether the perfumed wood would hold so rich a charm when he was no longer there to rouse the echoes with his laughter. Hand in hand they wandered-artless children-while the soft-eyed deer peeped out at them approvingly. They visited her favourite haunts; the open glade where the glorious lilies grew in clusters-lemon-yellow, or white, brown centred; where the great jewelled butterflies tumbled low along like junks under heavy sail; where beds of scarlet blossoms like geraniums nestled in sheets on the bank of a crystal stream-home of flights of glittering dragon-flies, black and iron-blue, like the cohorts of the warlike Osaka. And then the sharp twee twee of the cicadas, answering or calling one another out of the deep stillness of the canopy above, the boom of the hoarse bees, the buzzing of gossamer wings, the click of the cricket, the hum of the myriad tiny voices up in the dense green, which joining in harmonious chorus form a silence-a haven of solitude and rest.

It was not possible to linger in the shadowed aisles whose pillars were the giant cryptomerias, without feeling subdued and softened; and a suspicion flitted more than once across the mind of the young soldier that perchance the career of hurly-burly and the clash of steel were a mistake, the contemplative life a better. What happier method of getting through the cycle than to muse away the years, till called to go, with gentle O'Tei, and the forest, and the animals? And then, the sylvan influence and flash of the clear eyes removed, Sampei would wake and shake himself in distress, and know that the ground was dangerous. The contemplative life was good for girls and shaven priests, and men who had succumbed in the battle. Youths with lives spread out before like a trail of moonlight on the sea, must gird up their loins and elbow their way through the medley. Too long already had the young General dallied, wasting time. And yet, not wasting, for he and she were to be friends for life-that was quite settled-dear brother and loving sister, trusting each other without question, certain, in moments of emergency, of the completest helpfulness and sympathy. It was delicious to possess such a sister, a soft warm sunspot on his harsh career; more she might never be, and he recognised that this was well.

Her gentleness unnerved his arm, he was wont jestingly to say, for her nature was woven of such frail glass threads that just as the rush of the herd snapped the slender lily-stems, a rude puff of wind might shatter it. Some day she would find a suitable husband, and her adopted brother would love him for her sake; and then they would recline in the long grass and fall a-talking of what the lucky mortal would be like. To match with the perfection of O'Tei he must be a perfect creature. Not a bluff soldier like Sampei. No, that would never do, for like a tender plant must the dear maid be cherished. To the end must the White Fawn be screened from din of war and rude surroundings. Poor hearts! They were both so young and ignorant and hopeful. They knew not how futile a pastime is the building of air-palaces. They were unaware that Fate is a sad marplot, and that if we plan a matter in a certain way, it will surely come out quite otherwise.

The Shinto virgins were somewhat scandalised by the romantic proceedings of the fair O'Tei and the too good-looking General. They were disinclined to approve of him, for they knew he had said that, with faces painted a dead white, eyebrows at top of foreheads, and long flat hair well-oiled, they looked like the dolls of Asakusa. A ribald military person was not expected to have taste, or to know wherein lies true beauty, but he might show more respect for youthful gorgons. O'Tei did little credit, they averred, with tart displeasure, to her education. If she pined for male society, was not the temple full of holy bonzes? The heiress of Nara showed lamentable signs of incipient depravity. What business had she with Sanjo, the common armourer? She who, wayward always and inconsistent, when taught like every prospective chatelaine to wield a pike, had been wont to toss down the silver-mounted weapon, with a pout, vowing that she hated fighting.

Things could not go on as they were, for the situation was a false one. Sanjo grew nervous. If the Daimio of Nara, who as Kugé or court noble lived usually at Kiŷoto in attendance on the Emperor, were to hear that his only child, instead of innocently floating through mazes of kagura, was using his (Sanjo's) forge for flirting purposes with an ineligible man who was the son of a concubine, there would be trouble; and Sanjo was not unaware of the parable concerning iron pots and earthen pipkins. All were relieved, therefore, except O'Tei, who was hazy as to her own sentiments, when the news arrived that the rebellion in Corea was to be quelled, and that Sampei was to command the expedition.

When brother and sister parted, O'Tei clung round the neck of the youth, and, weeping bitterly, shivered she knew not why. Lovingly he kissed her brow, and disengaged himself from her embrace, and was more than ever certain as he rode away that, perfect in a congenial sphere, as wife of some grandee who would appreciate her gentle excellence, his sweet and sensitive sister would make the worst of consoles for one whose trade was war.

CHAPTER II.
THE LAST HOJO

Being a cunning and artful reader, you have long since guessed that the pattern maid whose benign influence was destined to reform the brutish No-Kami, was no other than O'Tei, while the paragon Daimio was Nara.

The Shinto virgins, as unjust and purblind as young gorgons may be expected to prove, were quite wrong as to O'Tei, who was no flirt. She did all credit to her rearing, for, when summoned to leave the conventual seclusion of the forest and assume the garb and responsibilities of her rank, she dutifully murmured, "Let my father's will be done," and accepted the husband of his choice. She had never been told-for the holy bonzes knew little about the subject-that in many marriages there are but two cheerful days-the first and the last-and marched straight upon her fate without a tremor.

The elder Hojo, though a crafty and long-headed statesman, made a sad mistake while arranging the affairs of his son. The air palace he built was complete and imposing, beautiful to the eye, but, as the muscular and practical Tomoyé had foreseen, its foundations were of the weakest. He forgot that old Nara, as lord in waiting, was likely to be deeply attached to the person as well as to the position of the Mikado; that he, like the rest of the Kugés, would probably treasure up the insults which were freely showered on his master, with a view to future vengeance.

Thanks to the uncompromising tactics of the despot, the reigning Mikado (there were three in exile) was a boy, a roi fainéant, a puppet; but he was hedged about with the intangible and mystic attributes of the Mikadoate, and the buffets he received reverberated along the line of Kugés into the hearts of the lower class. To possess the person of the Emperor was doubtless pleasing to the possessor-a trump card-but those who did not possess him felt his thraldom bitterly. That his daughter should wed the heir of the all-powerful Hojo was satisfactory and flattering to Nara. So long as the tyrant lived against whom it was hopeless to struggle, he would mask his game; but after his death, what then? He was expected to assume the functions of chief adviser, and keep the successor straight-was, in fact, to tighten the bonds about his master's limbs, for the behoof of the execrated family.

This was whimsical-illogically planned-and Hojo a fool for his pains, When he contemplated the folly of the man he hated in his heart, the grim visage of the cautious Nara was puckered into unaccustomed smiles. The advice he would give in the future-so the wily lord decided-must depend on the attitude of his son-in-law, and be guided by the course of events for the benefit of the imperial prisoner. In his mind's eye (if Hojo could only have guessed it!) he beheld with secret exultation the brutish No-Kami sinking lower and lower by sure degrees into debauchery, until the moment should arrive when the ruler would become the ruled. And then-and then! Well, time must show what then. Sufficient for the day is its labour.

Just as a Nimrod of the chase may fly safely over tremendous obstacles and be undone by a ditch at last, so was it with old Hojo. He sallied forth one day to put down an insignificant riot in never tranquil Satsuma, and received there his quietus. As already related, the faithful Tomoyé died with him, and No-Kami-juvenile, inexperienced, and cruel-was called to reign in his stead. And now, no longer restrained in the smallest degree by respect for a severe mother or fear of a fiery father, the new despot, surrounded by parasites, gave free rein to all his vices.

The unaccustomed period of peace came to an abrupt conclusion. The young Mikado having been goaded one day to remonstrate with his new jailor, the latter raised his fan and slapped the august cheek. The Kugés flew to arms to avenge their outraged lord, but No-Kami, with the aureole of his father's prestige still about him, was too much for them. The nobles who dwelt in the palace bore but little of the stamp of warriors. The astute Nara, whilst hating the young man, saw that now, while the aureole remained unfaded, it was not yet the time to strike. He assumed therefore, with much parade of zeal, the rôle of mediator between his master and his son-in-law. At first in vain.

An unorganised band of patriots took the field, who were speedily routed and slain; and No-Kami, like the tyrant that he was, ungenerously pursued his advantage. Thanks to Nara's intervention, he refrained from deposing the Mikado; but he made up for this act of clemency by committing outrageous deeds. Banishment and confiscation were the order of the day. The estates of those who had dared to unsheath the katana were distributed among the minions of the despot. All over Japan, those who loved their country heard with groans of the annihilation of the loyalists, and the pitiful condition of the Emperors. There was a puppet Mikado at Kiŷoto, and a nominal Shogun at Kamakura, but they were both under the tutelage of Hojo.

No-Kami, as Nara hoped and expected, flushed with easy victory, and drunk with blood, resigned himself for a while to luxury, and neglected public business. A horde of rapacious bravos and licensed bandits sucked the lifeblood and paralysed the energies of the people. The weight of taxes, that ever crushes the spirit of the Asiatic peasant, grew heavier, day by day, until existence became intolerable. How was an end to be put to this nightmare? That was the question which all were fearfully whispering, and to which there seemed no solution.

No-Kami, if self-indulgent and ruthless, was no zany. He knew that his position was to be maintained by fear and a strong hand, and that enervation meant destruction. Bundles of bamboo, when bound together, will dam a stream, though each separate stem is but a feeble wand. The insurrection of effeminate Kugés had been precipitate and foolish. If the whole country were to rise like one man, he would, as he was aware, be swept like rice chaff into the sea. In the mutual jealousy of the Daimios lay his chief safeguard. While plunging each in separate discomfort, union at all costs must be prevented. Attempts at conspiracy among the nobles, or at combinations among the lower classes, must be frustrated, and to that end he gave strict orders to officials and tax-collectors to allow of no public meetings. The people were to pay what was demanded of them, humbly and dutifully, as best they could, but on no account were to be permitted to hold gatherings. Even the great festivals of the year were for a while to be discontinued.

Over and above these precautions, the tyrant surrounded his person with a picked body-guard of Samurai, or two-sword men; hedged his fortress with bristling defences; and recalled his brother, the brilliant Sampei, from his career of victory abroad.

Urged possibly by a spirit of contrariness, a contempt for the society of his prisoner and the Kugés-perhaps by a sense of freedom from personal danger there-the favourite abode of No-Kami was his castle of Tsu, four days' journey from the capital, over precipitous hills. Here he loved to dwell, surrounded by his brawling warriors; sojourning from time to time, when business called him to Kiŷoto, at a small but superb villa, called the Golden House, which stood secluded in a park on the outskirts of the sacred city.

The castle of Tsu was one of the strongest in Japan (the outline of its foundations still remains to attest to its vast area), and covered, within the square space of the outer moat, sufficient ground to accommodate an army. This outer moat, upon which many a shallop floated, was wide and deep and sluggish on three sides, masked by a luxuriant crop of lotos; while the fourth wall was washed by a rapidly-running river, the Iwatagawa, which a couple of miles away brawled into the sea. Out of the water rose a platform of great stones, with a fringe of gnarled and rusty pines, through which were visible battlements of earth crowned by a low parapet. At each corner was a huge four-storied building, fitted with four wide roofs of sculptured copper; the walls of whitewashed plaster within frameworks of unpainted wood. Inside this outer defence was a recreation and drill-ground of sufficient extent to allow of room for jousts and spectators, as well as trees and vegetable gardens, and a village of wooden huts for soldiery and camp followers. Dwellings of a better class were clustered like seashells about the second or inner moat, which enclosed a second wall.

Within the inner square was a space of considerable size, in the centre of which uprose the castle, a four-sided tower three hundred feet in height, tapering towards the top. By reason of its many roofs or verandahs of burnished and sculptured bronze, it seemed more like a cluster of many towers, the centre one the loftiest; and a picturesque object it was, for owing to the prevalence of earthquakes, all the walls above the foundation platform were of whitened mud and plaster, enclosed like the corner buildings within frames of timber; while the middle roof reared its head with overhanging eaves to a sharp point, crowned on the apex by a great fish, fashioned of pure gold.

This fortress was, barring miracle or treachery, justly reputed impregnable. Both moats were crossed by drawbridges, as an extra caution against surprise. The outer entrance was approached round a corner, so that the gate with its side postern was doubly commanded from above. Even if the outer wall were stormed, the inner one frowned on the intruder with manifold engines, while the ground about it could be rendered untenable by missiles from the summit of the tower.

A bowshot from the outer moat, westward from the river bank, the town of Tsu, with straggling suburbs, meandered, low and grey, like a long serpent. All Japanese towns are of one colour, walls and roofs alike, of wood unpainted and weatherworn, rendered a shade more silvery by clusters of pale lichen; but Tsu was more monotonously gloomy in aspect than most, by reason of damp and misery. The country close around, with the exception of two low hills, was flat and sedgy, broken by marshes and shallow rivulets. Away, hazy, melting into blue, could be discerned the encircling peaks of the range, beyond which is Kiŷoto. Grand mountains these, rugged and austere, with many a beetling crag. Mikuni Yama; Outake San; and away to the south-east Asama Yama, the majestic chief volcano of Japan.

The town of Tsu differed from others in that it displayed none of the spick-and-span cleanliness for which the land of the Rising Sun is as conspicuous as European Holland. The outlying cottages bore the stamp of squalor and ague, standing in oozy sludge. So did the people bear the brand of sorrow, as, listless and inert, they dragged their heavy feet. As a poor show of enterprise, a few unripe persimmons, which no one desired to buy, were exposed for sale in the mire; while here and there a tray of sorrel-like leaves were placed to dry (?) – a plant used for dying blue the cotton which is the common garment of the peasant. There was none of the briskness and gaiety to be seen that make rural Japan so cheery. None of the incessant chatter and laughter and pattering of clogs, the rush-and-tumble of naked brown babies, the whirr of the silk-looms, the busy hammer of the carpenters.

The houses, wide open to the street, displayed the usual raised platform of wood, smoothly planed, covered with matting, with hibachi or firebox in the middle; but there was no brilliant glimpse beyond of the wonderful toy gardens, with rocks and dwarfed trees and straying tortoises and gaudy flowers and crickets in tiny cages, which distinguish a prosperous village. The paper windows or screens being always pushed back in their grooves during the day, a rustic Japanese household of the lower class may be said to live in public; for, till the screens are replaced, which they usually are at dusk, there may be said to be no privacy. You have a free view of goodman or matron in the bath, or at the toilet, or eating, or sleeping, or at work, and unabashed-with innocence sometimes for only garment-they nod to you pleasantly with a cheerful "Ohayo!" as you pass. Tsu was too degraded, steeped to the lips in grinding poverty, to have energy for work or washing, much less for the homely ornament of a single lily in a pot. Almost entirely nude the men, unkempt and frowsy, lolled and slept-such a marvellous variety of attitudes of sleep a sculptor might find there-while the housewife, thin and sallow, naked to the waist, fumbled feebly over the weaving of cheap hats, or grass sandals for man and horse.

Of course the town could boast of a superior quarter, where, in front of houses of a better kind, were flapping blue cotton awnings, each one adorned with the dominant daimio's cognisance. Into one of these, apparently the cleanest and the best, we will enter (first removing our clogs and swords), for what is proceeding within should interest us somewhat.

It is evening. The house-platform is raised on stilts as usual, two feet above ground, and the first room or ante-chamber is open to the street. When we rap with fan on the paper screen beyond, some one cries "Enter," and sliding it aside we find ourselves in a large low room, whose ceiling of unpolished cryptomeria is supported by pillars of cherry. Above the dais or recess of honour at the end, a single picture hangs, representing the thirty-three Kwannon; under it is a gilt image of Buddha; while the monotony of the one wooden wall (the others are formed by paper screens running in grooves) is broken by a wandering spray of maple foliage, painted in autumn tints.

Everything is scrupulously clean and severely simple. You only become aware that this is a superior dwelling, by remarking the fineness of the mats. In the centre, round a large hibachi of bronze, filled with charcoal, a group are huddled close, for the all-pervading damp is chilling to the bones. Two well-known elders of the town are there-Zembei, and Rokubei his friend-the former talking volubly; while a man of middle age, the master of the house, is listening with dubious frown. His wife, Kennui, sits by, his hand in hers; while apart in a corner, with eyes as bright as a squirrel's, and flushed cheek, stands their eldest daughter Miné. Her mind-some call her a forward damsel-is disturbed, for, impatient and annoyed, she pushes aside a screen, and clatters off into the back garden, to tease with a finger the darting gold-fish that with mosquitoes reign in a pond.

The frowning man is Koshiu, the most important farmer in these parts, broad-shouldered, grave, and grizzled, whose opinions are of weight in the province.

Zembei-aged, with face like a walnut-has brought unpleasant news; indeed he has often dropped in of late, and each time his tidings are less agreeable. It is the old story, gruesome and too familiar. The rapacious Hojo needs more money-is always demanding more. But it is quite too bad to worry the men of Tsu, his own home, the poorest district in the Empire. Already the starving population have abandoned hope. In a former life they must have been very wicked, to suffer so much in this.

After a long pause of dejection, "Maybe my lord knows not of our wretchedness," suggests the farmer's wife, by way of pouring oil upon the waters.

"Peace, Kennui!" sighs her spouse. "As well throw stones at the sun, or try to scatter a fog with a fan, as look for humanity from a Hojo! They were ever merciless."

"Too true!" groans Rokubei, the elder. "Thus the matter stands; though you have shown so little interest of late, that perchance I am wasting breath."

"Ay, that hath he!" chimes in Zembei. "Why is it? You, Koshiu, whose words were ever of moment, and treated with respect, although from your stubborn pride you were never popular, instead of helping us, have been hanging back, content with grumbling complaint. We must act now, I tell you, and rend the air no more with idle moaning, or else we perish all! Gird up your loins, man. Awake! For unless this torrent of greed be stemmed, although less poor than most, you will soon be a beggar like the rest."

"My husband," interrupted Kennui, "is misjudged. He loves the people, and grieves for them, but perceives that resistance is useless-idle remonstrance will but make their plight more pitiful."

"The beetle in combat with the bear!" laughed the farmer drearily. "Act, forsooth! All this is idle prate, believe me. What can we do but die?"

"No idle prate," retorted Zembei. "Listen. By deputation-of which you would not form one-we humbly prayed and entreated the local counsellors of my lord: – the leeches-to be more lenient; but they replied that they were only tools, exactly performing his bidding. Then, after anxious thought and discussion, gathering together in secret the chiefs of a hundred villages, at peril of our heads, we resolved to draw up and send a solemn petition, signed by all, to my lord's golden dwelling at Kiŷoto, imploring justice. Twelve of the most respected elders, chosen from the assembly by lot, undertook the dangerous task. Clad in their grass rain-coats, they sallied forth, and arrived in time at Kiŷoto."

"Idiots!" scoffed Koshiu. "Did they pay a long farewell to wives and little ones?"

"Arrived at the Golden House, they were received at the gate with blows and contumely."

"What else did they expect?" inquired the farmer-"to be feasted in the room of honour? Other lords perhaps, dreading public exposure of their misdeeds, might, if pushed, hasten to repair a wrong-the Hojos never; for the Hojos have no shame."

Miné pouted, and rapped the pavement with impatient clog.

"To be sweeping is always to be unjust!" she cried shrilly, from the border of the pond. "There are good as well as bad in every family."

"Hush, child, hush! Be dutiful!" reproved her mother. "Thou wast bewitched by soft empty speeches and a bold bearing. It was a bad day for thee when the lord Sampei came among us!"

"He is good and brave and generous," returned the girl, with burning face, "my lord Sampei!"

Miné cooed out the name that was on every one's lips, with such an exceeding abandonment of tenderness as startled her father into attention.

"More words less sense!" he remarked testily. "My lord Sampei! what hast thou to do with him or his? My lord Sampei forsooth! Wouldst be a Hojo's concubine? Never! I'd see thee dead first."

"The maid speaks not untruly," nodded Rokubei. "Sampei is in all things, save his name, unlike his brother. Through his mother Masago, the holy Abbess, he has peasant blood in his veins."

"And she," chimed in the girl, "the late lord's concubine, although of peasant stock, is worthy to be noble. As good as her son is the Abbess Masago. Cold and severe, no doubt, but just and lovable."

"How the child prates!" cried Madam Koshiu. "The lord Sampei has been absent these five years, skull-cracking, and is but just returned. What canst thou know of him? When he sailed, thou wert a little maid, and even than now more foolish."

"From his mother I have heard of him," admitted the blushing girl.

"So this was thy religious fervour, praying so often at the temple!" exclaimed the angry farmer. "Take heed, thou silly wench, or I will punish thee, and grievously. What! A cur can bark loudly before its own gate, and I can defend my own. Once for all, no more of the lord Sampei, or it will go ill with thee. Banish from thy feather-pate idle worship of thy betters."

The mien of Koshiu was so stern and threatening, that though words of indignant protest rose to her lips, the girl was silent.

"What if he were prevailed upon to intercede for us?" mused Rokubei. "He is as generous as brave-no doubt of that. My lord, after his brother's career of victory, could scarce refuse him a favour."

"Five years bring about great changes," growled the farmer. "Five years ago Hojo No-Kami was no worse than others of his rank. You will never persuade me that aught of good is to be found in a Hojo, legitimate or otherwise. Enough of him. Go on with your story of the elders."

"They were received, as I told you, at the outer gate with blows and curses. Had they not fled, murder would have been done, for a posse of samurai rushed out of the guardhouse, like devils, brandishing pikes. Disconcerted, grieved, and bruised, they returned to their inn to consult. Was the journey to go for nothing? Were they to return like beaten dogs, without even seeing my lord? Peradventure face to face with him something might yet be done, and his hard heart softened by their dismal catalogue of woe. They plumed their ruffled feathers, therefore, and lay in wait, and when he rode forth citywards, emerged from a clump of trees, and kneeling humbly in the dust, presented their petition. He took it, and, grinding his teeth with eyes aflame, turned savagely to his attendants.

"'Remove these wretches!' he thundered, 'who by persistent insolence have deserved more than death. By-and-by will I pass judgment on them. Torment shall reward their temerity.'"

A silence of dismay followed the elder's narrative. Koshiu was surely right-his deep hate justified. It seemed that the existing Hojo was worse than any of his ancestors-and so young too! What a gloomy future for unhappy fatherland! What a sunless roll of years!

"The land is ripe for revolt, if we could find a leader we could trust," observed Zembei, who had been nursing his knees in silence. "The other lords are weary of the Hojo, but unfortunately jealous of each other. If they would bury for a time their private feuds, things might yet come right. He who ventures not within the den, will never take the cub."

"There is no trusty leader, except the victorious General, himself a Hojo!" added the other elder. "Buddha has forgotten us. The case is beyond mortal settling. There is left for us nothing but to die."

Here was a dismal and unsatisfactory conclusion to the debate, and it seemed that there was no other, for each with dolorous visage eyed his neighbour, with nothing more to say.

Miné, tossing off her geta on the garden stones, and springing up with pretty pink feet upon the matted floor, came forward.

"I am but a girl," she said timidly, "and, my father tells me, foolish. Yet from mouths of fools sometimes come words of wisdom. You can die, you say. Is not death the last resource, when all else has failed, for escaping from earthly woe? Masago, the dear Abbess, is worshipped for miles around. Prejudiced though you are, you have nought to say but praise of her goodness and her piety. Sampei is her son-nay, I will speak-and who should know a son better than his mother? In your grief you are prone to believe evil, and speak harsh and unjust words of him you know not. Seek him out, and implore his intercession with his brother. Seek out the lady O'Tei-an angel come to earth. She, the chatelaine, is now at the castle yonder. Entreat her help as well, and sure betwixt the two that stony heart shall melt."

Miné blushed like a tea-rose at finding herself thus boldly haranguing a trio of grizzled pates, and flinging herself down by her mother's side in sudden bashfulness, buried her hot face in her bosom.

"Buddha is not asleep," observed Madame Koshiu, with conviction, as she stroked her daughter's head. "Verily the child speaks wisely words that are put into her mouth."

"We will follow her counsel," assented the marvelling Zembei, "for the gods-whose names be praised-are with us. Urged by his brother and his wife, my lord will surely give us the lives of the devoted elders. We-Rokubei and Zembei-will journey ourselves to Kiŷoto, and make another effort. Learn, O stubborn Koshiu, a lesson from thy child, who has given us the counsel that we needed."

The farmer shook his head.

"Cursed be the tree of Hojo, root and branch!" he cried. "Its fruit is crime, its blossom, wickedness. My lord Sampei and my lord No-Kami are scourges both! Go your ways, and do as you think fit. I tell you your errand will be vain."

Was there ever any one so obstinate as this sturdy Koshiu? – a man who could only rail instead of bestowing help. The two elders were about to upbraid him for his mulishness, for they, like others, had naught but admiration for Sampei, when, raising his hand, he said, -

"Listen, wife and friends. You deem me supine, – my judgment warped by bias. In this you wrong me. I am ready to lay down my life, if need be, for the common good, but not to fling it uselessly away. Try your plan first: go to Kiŷoto, and fail; then it shall be my turn. The arrogance of my lord reached its highest point when, some brief while ago, he smote with his fan the face of the revered one. For that sin, vengeance, if tardy, will be complete some day. The horror that flowed over the land warned him of the danger of his folly, of which, for safety's sake, he will never again be guilty. The Hojos are merciless-you will gain nothing from them but stripes. Here is my plan. I will gird my loins, and journey alone to the capital, and, biding my time in secret, will, with Heaven's help, thrust a copy of the petition into the hand of the Mikado himself, as in a litter he takes the air. Then will he, grieving for us, demand a public explanation from my lord as to why the poorest portion of the country should be ground down with such heavy burthens. So will my lord, weary with much admonishing, be stirred to lighten our backs."

The farmer's wife, hearkening to his decision, groaned and wept, for she felt that the tyrant, even if he gave way under strong pressure, would seek a victim for his wrath-that one the weakest. The elders saw the situation in the same light. They did not strive, however, to combat his resolve, for though their friend would probably be sacrificed, themselves would be gainers by his deed. If he chose to immolate himself, why not? They expressed approval, therefore, nodding topknots in unison, and, rising, departed to their homes, gossiping in whispers by the way.

What a relief to know that they had been deceived in Koshiu. 'Twas a boldly-devised scheme that, whereby a peasant was to dare in person to address the Holy One. Peradventure he would be cut down by the guards ere he could present the paper. Well, well, time would show; and if, in the people's cause, he perished, his name would go down with blessings to posterity.

His decision was a relief, in other ways, as the two friends agreed, pattering side by side in the quiet of the night. It was vastly heroic on their part, considering what had already been undergone by the other elders, to declare that they would cast themselves in the breach. If my lord Sampei could be induced to interest himself, they would be the bearers of his missive to his brother, and so gain credit in the town for wondrous' devotion to the people's cause. Not that for them there would be real danger (they had made up their minds of that), for No-Kami, however ferocious, would surely refrain from maltreating his brother's messengers. And yet now as they walked along, it seemed wise to give up the risk. Caution becomes old men. The independent Koshiu was resolved to make a journey on his own account: clearly there was nothing to be gained by everybody going. They would let him go, for obstinate men will have their way. All things considered, themselves having gained credit by proposing to go, would stop at home and do honour, by-and-by, to the escaped elders, when released.

This much satisfactorily settled, they gabbled of other things. Only to think of that little Miné being so clear-headed. Verily love works wonders. A comely maid, if unduly ambitious, and warm, to boot, of temper. How her blood mantled at her father's railing. How undaunted was her defence of the young General. She must love him much to be stung into bearding, for his sake, her sturdy parent. He must have won her heart before he sailed, and had long since, no doubt, forgotten her.

A silly wench to look so high. A great General might stoop to pluck a flower as he passed, but, loosely caught, it would speedily fall from his breast, and he unwitting of the loss. She certainly was pretty; would develop some day, obstinate and headstrong like her father, into a shrew. Yes, she was young and fair to look upon at present, and, perhaps, were she so brazen as to cast herself at the young man's feet, he might deign to raise her for a moment.

Chattering thus, the cronies parted, each trudging his own way by the glimmer of his paper lantern. Could they have delved into the mind of the farmer's daughter, and have seen what was passing there, they would have had genuine cause for wonder.

Miné, as with frowning brow and dejected step she moved among the stones in the garden, struck her palms impatiently together.

"I cannot bear it, and I will not!" she muttered. "Hard and unjust and narrow is my father! Of these taunts there shall be an end. I gave my heart to him to trample on, and do not regret the gift. His I am or no one's until death. Each day and hour to hear him and his reviled and vilified, is constant torture. I will leave a home that is not to be endured, and take refuge for the present with the Abbess."

Miné was a true daughter of Koshiu. Once her mind made up, there was no further indecision. Wrapping a mantle around her, she moved on tiptoe to where her three brothers slept, and then stealing forth into the night, closed the shutters behind her.

"Adieu, my darlings, perchance for ever!" she murmured tenderly; "for better or for worse the die is cast. He will soon visit the temple to see the mother whom he loves. If he will have me, I am his, to do with according to his pleasure; if not, I will remain to pray for him within the temple, in the garb of Buddha's handmaid."

CHAPTER III.
MARRIED LIFE

The meek obedience of O'Tei to her father's wishes was but ill requited. The gulf between past and present was so wide that for a while she was dazed and stunned. It seemed to her that she must have passed in sleep through the gates of Death, and have been born again into a new dark world-desolate and drear-which was all evil. How calm and happy by contrast appeared that other life, as she recalled to mind the company of prim priestesses slowly floating in the dance; the lazy, sweet-tempered bonzes tinkling on bells, droning amiably through noses-their weightiest duty, adoration of the sun with foreheads in the dust; their loving labour, the cleaning of temple precincts; their pastime, the gentle craft of gardening. Now she found herself surrounded by a roistering crew of fierce, rough, ignorant retainers-scowling, swearing, swaggering samurai-swash-bucklers who were eternally cleaning and polishing their two swords and dirk, or practising some horribly nimble feat of arms, or with set teeth in sudden rage like red-eyed rats flying at one another's throats.

Nuptial pomp and ceremony over, bride and groom retired to their castle, where, with the laudable intent of making other magnates jealous, a series of sham fights and sumptuous jousts were inaugurated, whose unaccustomed din confused the brain of the chatelaine. For a space No-Kami appeared in his best light, for he was subjugated by the beauty of his young wife, and unconsciously a little afraid of her quiet high-bred demeanour. Bravely she strove to interest herself in his pursuits; with unflagging patience watched the retainers wrestling or riding at the ring; compelled herself to bestow applause on bouts at quarter-staff which wearied her. And yet, discipline herself as she would, the constant thud of stick on skull, or blade on helm-the guttural shrieks and execrations-chilled her to the marrow. There could be no sympathy 'twixt the sensitive and poetic nature reared in the sacred groves, and these grim and savage warriors. And, sharp to read faces, if ignorant of letters, they knew it as well as she, for her virtues were strange riddles beyond their comprehension. What they could be sure of was that their lady was regrettably white and slender, – too soft and delicate for a hard world of struggle, where the weak were deservedly mangled. Sorrowfully they compared her with the late chatelaine, unhappily deceased, the lioness Tomoyé, much (as is the usual practice) to the disadvantage of the living one. There is nothing that such men hold in more withering contempt than weakness. The chivalry of mediæval Europe was mostly theory. Discontented, they did their liege lady a pathetic and grudging service, ashamed of her as unsuited to her station.

One day as she sat listless, wondering at the emptiness of life, No-Kami strode into her bower to claim admiration for a new and wondrous sword, fresh from Sanjo's anvil. In his nervous grasp it whizzed through the air with diabolic whistling sound, as he showed exultantly how he meant to slash off the head with it of the Daimio of Bizen, and other abominable rivals.

Now although O'Tei, in careless girlish fashion, had been rather fond of watching the armourers at work (the more perhaps because of the disapproval of sniffing gorgons), she had never clearly associated the results of their skill with their true purpose. She had always been bidden to observe the spring of the glittering blade, the clouded lines so deftly worked into the steel; the patterned kogai or stilettoes fitted in the scabbard; the elaborately ornate tsuba or hilt-guard; and saw as she admired details beautiful works of art fit to adorn a dwelling. But now when she beheld her husband making fierce passes, with a blood-curdling expression of ferocity upon his face, she became aware, for the first time, of his animal greed for blood, and shuddered as she looked, turning a shade more pale. To this wild beast she had been tied for life. What sort of existence could she hope for in the future? Would it be possible to go on to the end pretending to sympathise with that which in her heart she loathed? Power, unless kept in leash by thongs and bridles, degenerates into a tyranny that, feeding on itself, grows every day more infamous. She had learnt by report that her lord was a tyrant, and disliked by many, though as yet she knew no details.

She had been taught vaguely by the learned bonzes that the human animal is by nature a beast of prey, blood-raw till cooked by education. The man before her was as ignorant, and more lawless than his own retainers. Was it her task to show him the right path? – to wean him to better things by gentle influence? A noble mission, for one who was strong of purpose, firm of will. The girl resolved that she would try, but felt, with a sinking of the heart, that the task was beyond her strength. No-Kami discerned upon her features a look of pained bewilderment out of tune with the occasion, and bluntly growled his discontent. He was surprised and angry. When a chatelaine is called on to sympathise and exult with her lord, why does she show disgust? It came suddenly upon him that there was a barrier between them which, though intangible, neither might ever pass. A pretty helpmeet for a Hojo was this degenerate child of Nara's! Strolling through the well-appointed armoury, displeased and concerned, he selected the light silver-mounted lance which his grandam had used to splendid purpose when, in the absence of her spouse, she defended this very castle. More doughty even than the much-regretted Tomoyé had been this grandam, and no wonder, for, of noblest lineage, was she not the direct descendant of that famous Empress Jingo, who, leaving her new-born babe in the charge of her ministers, sallied forth armed cap-à-pié to conquer Corea?

"Did O'Tei know even how to hold a lance?" sneered No-Kami.

Of course she did, she replied, with a forced smile. Was not every noble damsel taught how to defend her home?

At the outset she had made a mistake by showing her thoughts upon her features, an error that might be yet retrieved. To smooth the disappointed furrows from his wrinkled brow, she took the lance from him, and straightway went through the exercise. For a moment it pleased his vanity to watch the graceful movements of her tall lithe form as, gathering in one hand the ample folds of her long robe, she ran forward, thrust, and recovered. And then, happening to glance at the tell-tale countenance, he cursed and ground his teeth, for her martial exercise was a sham.

Her thoughts were far away. Like a patient automaton wound up with a spring, she half consciously did what was required, but clearly found no pleasure in the act. With a great oath he roughly wrenched the weapon from her, and bade her go mind her distaff.

She sighed, and, obeying with aggravating meekness, retired to her chamber; and from this moment there grew up between the wedded pair a thicket which waxed stronger each day and thicker. The parasites-braggart samurai, turbulent officers and soldiers, and truculent hangers-on-were quick to perceive a change with which they sympathised, and prompt to act upon it. Boisterous, rude, ill-mannered at the best, they saw that, like themselves, their lord was ashamed of his handsome and cold but fragile wife, and by insensible gradations-he unwitting of it-their perfunctory respect dropped from them. No-Kami was heard one day, in unguarded whirl of wrath, due to baulked hope and disappointment, to dub her "Puling baby-face," and loud was the laughter at the sobriquet, for one and all they unconsciously chafed under a refinement of which they had no experience, and came to hate her for her gentleness.

And so it came about that, abandoning as hopeless at the initial stage the mission for which (by the late statesman's cunning) she had been destined, O'Tei withdrew from serious attempts at influencing the despot, and made the first fatal downward step on her dark and stony road.

Entrenching herself behind a screen of pride, she withdrew herself from contact with the samurai, by whom she was treated with a surly carelessness that was insult but half concealed. When etiquette required it, she appeared in public beside No-Kami, whose attitude was sulky and displeased; at other times she abode in her own bower overlooking the swift river, a retreat where she could not hear the yells and sword-thuds, embroidering among her maidens, or reading poetry, or playing on the three-stringed samisen. Though secluded, it was by her own choice, and she in no sense a prisoner. No-Kami, when in amiable mood-which, as time went on, became a more and more unusual circumstance-displayed for his wife an uncouth, sulky, snarling respect, like that of a wolf under a whip; for instinct whispered that he was totally unworthy, – that as she came to read him better she would despise him more, – that already she saw with those calm clear eyes his many faults and mental smallness, though too well-mannered and too haughty to admit it. A rude and proud as well as licentious and undisciplined man finds contempt from her who should be his congenial helpmeet a constantly galling spur.

If O'Tei, descending from that lofty pedestal, would only have abused him roundly, – have bandied sharp words, – have stooped to scold him, he would have breathed more freely. The air would have been cleared of its oppressiveness, for he would have known himself nearer to her level. How exasperating was it to the self-indulgent and unscrupulous tyrant to have this pale and silent and superior woman always at his elbow dispassionately contemplating his peccadilloes with disapproval peeping from her eyes. The worst of it was that he knew her to be right in her estimate of him, and secretly admired his chill and independent wife. Yet at the same time her presence was irksome, and goaded her spouse to flashes of rage which drove him, as it were in protest, to deeds of violence. It was the old story, which is ever new, of the 'little rift;' of two young lives starting side by side from standpoints far as the poles, with mutual misunderstanding and distrust, that increase like a rolling snowball till they grow into active detestation.

The Hojo neglected and avoided his consort, but was not wilfully cruel. If he chanced to have it by him, he would, when asked, give her money for charities; for, like many another misunderstood lady, she sought a salve for lacerated feelings in good works. It would have been most impolitic to have been patently unkind to her, because it was not well to make a foe of Nara by openly ill-using his heiress. He wist not of the conduct of the samurai, who took their cue from him; but he certainly saw as little as he conveniently could of his beautiful better half, spending considerable time at Kiŷoto quarrelling with other daimios, browbeating his imperial lord.

For her part, reared in retirement, and a stranger to town gaieties, she preferred the castle-when No-Kami was absent with his scowling retinue. Then, her own mistress, she would order her kago, – a heavy gorgeous litter, gold lacquered and emblazoned, adorned with rich curtains, and cushions, and tassels, borne on the shoulders of twelve staggering men-and penetrating, when the fancy seized her, along the centipede street of Tsu, make for a garden beyond, to which she had taken a liking. Reaching the favoured spot was the difficulty, for it was necessary to pass along two miles and more of straggling street and suburb, where poverty, if speechless, was rampant. To her pale face, though, it always showed its less hideous side, for the poor of Tsu (how many there were of them!) soon learned to adore their chatelaine.

She could not with her feeble force even attempt to stem the tide of suffering due to my lord's oppression; but the crushed creatures knew right well that behind the marble mask was a deep fund of pity-that their lady would sometimes go dinnerless herself for the sake of starving children. When she passed by, the toilworn women would look up, and show their blackened teeth in a wan smile; and the brown naked children, with their comical shaved pates and elf-locks-their bat-ears, wide mouths and eyes à fleur de tête like slits-would come trooping and crowing about her. She was always interested in the details of their poor homes, – ready with soothing words, and such money as she happened to possess; would converse with the old men as they wove sandals, the two straw loops caught on their great toes; criticise the painting of the phœnixes on the umbrellas of oil paper, an industry in vogue in these parts; exhort the languishing men to renewed courage and hope; and all the while her revolted soul died within her at contemplation of the wretched huts of mud and bamboo, some of them mere mats stretched on sticks, and stiffened with wire, with rotten crumbling roofs of decayed rice thatch, and mud floors that were never dry. Her heart bled for the patient, suffering people, and she was glad to get away to her garden, where the sun shone forth with halcyon brightness, and nature at least was happy. For Tsu, I would have you know, is not all ugliness. Passing out of the low-lying oozy suburb, you reach a wooden bridge over one of the numberless streams that intersect the marsh, and a little further on come to rising ground, well wooded with the luxuriant vegetation which in Japan is the lavish gift of the rain-god. At the top of the hill, under the lee of a group of ancient pines, much tossed and wind-beaten, is a summer-house. From the road it is not visible, so deeply is it embowered in cherry and maple, each so glorious and lovely in its season, the which are closely tangled and entwined with such cataracts of purple wisteria as no western mind can realise. This hill or hillock, and another one hard by, stand alone on a wide plain, and from them may be gained a singularly varied view of flat marsh, and sedge, and vivid green rice fields, and scattered villages, and far-off hazy mountains. In front-and this was the view that brought back peace into the empty breast of the young chatelaine, the ground shelved gradually, thick strewn with flowers, until-a semicircle of yellow sand-it was washed by the softly-rippling waves of a blue bay, land-locked. Here nature, casting her golden glamour over all, masked the prevailing squalor. No typhoon ever vexed these enchanted waters, that washed to and fro in slow cadence the clumps of bamboo with which their edge was feathered. The tiny toy villages on the opposite brink were mirrored in long shadow. The festooned sails of the little fishing-boats, and trim white junks, were pictured in quivering double four times their height. The mountains beyond, of a deep reddish purple, without detail in the haze, were topped with strange silhouettes of single pines, clear against opal ether, or sharp cut against the blue with chasm and precipice. Many rocky islets were dotted here and there-volcanic, peaked, flat-topped-each with its long reflection, fringed with feathery foliage, hanging apparently to nothing-around, a flight of boats, like sea-birds floating. Sitting for hours gazing down on the fairy scene, her stalwart naked kago-bearers asleep like statues of warm bronze away in the shade, O'Tei could forget her disillusions; but then with setting sun the shadow darkened, for the time was arrived when she must go home again, and with a return to the panoply of war, and swagger of the sentinels, peace and light faded out, and her heart was as sick as ever. Sometimes, more sad than usual, she would make to the sister hill a pilgrimage.

The gateway or torii at the bottom (one heavy beam curled at the corners, resting on two others) and the long straight flight of stone steps leading to a building with huge top-heavy roof, nestling in a grove of cryptomerias, showed that this was a holy hill surmounted by a temple. A very important temple too, with an immense gilt Buddha looming out of twilight on a bronze lotus, in an attitude of perpetual repose; gardens; fish-ponds, crowded with lotus plants; and a long low building glinting through the trees, wherein dwelt an abbess and her nuns.

What would happen to the Japanese if the lotus were banished from their midst? In winter, a mere yellow whisp languishing in mud; in early summer there rises a fairy thing from out the ooze-a concave shield of vivid green, with a blue down as of a grape, and dewdrops glistening like diamonds. Then a round ball appears, which slowly opens, trembling upon the water, and gradually reveals the loveliest flower that blows. To the Japanese child who strives to pluck its white or roseate blossom, it is a picture of unearthly loveliness; to the adult it is the symbol of religious truth, the emblem of the eternal calm which is the highest ultimate reward. Taught from earliest childhood to love its beauty, the mature Buddhist sees in its petals creative power and world growth, and knows that when his mortal body approaches the cremation house, his weary cycle done, a stone carved to represent a lotus flower will support his bier and receive the last ashes of his fleshly prison-house.

During her three years of married life, O'Tei had made, under shadow of these groves, a firm and steady friend, without whose support she thought sometimes that she must lie down and die-the cold but kindly Abbess Masago.

As has been told, the second wife or concubine of the late Hojo, so soon as her fickle lord grew weary of her, shaved off her hair and donned the Buddhist habit. Monastic life in Japan is a strange anomaly. Many an abbess or abbot, supposed to have retired from the world, bestows from the seclusion of the grove mundane advice and counsel. Some, indeed, gain weight and influence of an important political kind with the loss of their shaven hair; and so it was with Masago. As Abbess of Tsu, many of the weary or unstable of lofty lineage came to crave counsel of her-lords and dames who would have scoffed at the concubine of Hojo. The religious establishments of Japan become asylums for the afflicted or the persecuted. In them the defeated soldier or refugee from the vendetta finds inviolate sanctuary. Many a man hopelessly crossed in love, or a grief-stricken father, or fallen minister, has-mundane illusions vanished-devoted himself to a priestly life. To the nunneries, widowhood furnishes the greater number of fervent nuns; but a necessity of evading an uncongenial match, or the brutal lusts of rude men in unsettled times, gave many an inmate to the convents.

Often enough, after communing with Masago under the solemn cryptomerias, O'Tei had gone home comforted. There was something consoling and supporting in the low-toned strong voice of the Abbess, in the touch of her firm white hand. Her face was more set and stern than Sampei's, but his kindly eyes looked out from under the shaven brows, and O'Tei could feel almost as if her dear adopted brother was walking hand-in-hand with her as in the good old days. Ah, me, how far away they seemed, those days of five years ago! The gleeful white fawn was a hundred years older, at least, than then, stricken and grievously wounded. Her breast was empty; nobody cared whether she was alive or dead; she loved none, had none to love, and yet there was a longing within that was positive physical pain, to twine her affectionate tendrils around something, and exhale to it the treasures of her sweetness.

Alack, what a cycle is this; what a hard and rugged stage in the long journey! What are we to think, when injustice rules paramount? – when we see in this life how many are punished for their virtues, as a set-off to the peculiar manner in which others are rewarded for their vices?

On a certain morning, which must now occupy us, our stately lily was lying disconsolate. Acutely suffering, and much perturbed in mind, power of judging and weighing all agog, O'Tei crouched on the mat of her favourite summer-house, watching the swaying waves, yet seeing nothing; on her finely-chiselled features a grey pallor.

As a rule, the misery through which her bearers carried her was chary of complaint, for the poor folk had room in their sorrowing hearts for pity for their solitary lady; but on this morning she had come on such a scene of anguish that she stopped her kago and alighted. The housewife was tearing her dishevelled hair, and wringing hands, and writhing her tortured body, while a young family stood grouped around in varied attitudes of woe. What could this mean? The house was of the better kind; there was rice in the brazen pot; unless she was mistaken, it was the dwelling of one of the elders.

Yes. It was the dwelling of an elder-was-who never would dwell there more-was dead now, probably. He had dared to go to Kiŷoto, and make one of a set of insolent varlets who had presumed to waylay their lord, despite of warnings, and, with brow in dust, present a written prayer. His lord had resented the impertinence, had incarcerated him and his audacious fellows, with a view to making an example of such wretches by an end of exquisite torment. For him it was not so bad, for he would shuffle out of yet another life-one more of that dreary series so many of which have yet to be endured before we reach Nirvana. But what of his wife and family without the breadwinner? Like a faithful spouse, she had borne many children; how now was she to fill their mouths? Would the dear and noble lady vouchsafe to lend a hand, and implore her husband's clemency?

O'Tei turned deathly pale, and, catching her breath painfully, leant against the screen. She would indeed have fallen, if one of the kago-bearers had not presumed to catch and hold her in his arms. Her lord! How long was it ago that she had disdainfully given up all hope of influencing him? She was weak and wrong. It was a crime-she saw it now-but too late-too late! That separating thicket had grown so dense, that there was no hewing a passage through it. If the harrowed wife of the victim was suffering, how much more the sensitive young chatelaine, whose nerves were so highly strung! The man, if he perished, was a martyr in the cause of right. Each new delinquency of the Hojo was a fresh hammer-stroke on his wife's heart.

Out of his sight, O'Tei strove to forget his wickedness, the full measure of which she had learned to guess by this time. On her frequent visits to the temple she prayed with sweat of agony for his reformation, for the repentance of him who, alas! was bone of her bone for life. She was his-part and parcel of himself-and yet she saw, with a sickening horror and sense of self-upbraiding, that he grew worse and worse-more cruel and more reckless, – while she, with folded hands, looked on. In a vague, terror-stricken way she wondered what grisly phantom lurked behind the veil, what vengeance would fall from heaven. And might not this moral descent be in some sort her own doing, in that, while interference might have been of service, she had been too hurt and proud to attempt to stay his course? If he had no conscience, she had enough for both. Oh, for a dose of Tomoyé's spirit, – of the unbending pluck of the militant grandam concerning whom the samurai were always trolling ditties.

But no! – the warriors were right-she unfitted for her station. Her burthen-the sooner the better-might crush and kill her. She quailed at the thought of ever seeing again the tyrant in whom there were no bowels of compassion, and who seemed to take delight in augmenting the calamities of his fellows.

Herself as grey as a corpse, she bent down and kissed the writhing woman, and without a word (how could she console her?), with parched lips and catching breath, swung away to her garden on the mountain. What was she to do? What could she do? If, by giving over her own tender body to the pincers of the torturers, she could assuage the growing trouble of the people, how gladly would she bare her breast. But no-she was condemned to sit and watch, with idle hands and dread forebodings, a horror-stricken spectator of her husband's deepening sin, and the lingering anguish of his victims.

What was she to do? What could she do? If madness might be wooed, it would bring oblivion and relief. Who would have thought that a delicate and tender girl, so little used to suffering, could bear such pain and live? As she lay upon the mat, she revolved that unanswerable question which worries a good many of us. What could she have done in a previous phase of existence to make the present one so exceedingly painful? To lie thus in dumb pain was intolerable: action of some kind was imperative. She would go to the temple and pray, and ask the advice of Masago.

Turning towards the other hill, she was astonished to see on the top of the long flight of steps a man-by his dress apparently a noble-who slowly descended, and mounting a horse, trotted in the direction of the summer-house. Her heart gave a great bound, then seemed to stand still. Could it be? Yes! it was Sampei-returned home at last-and he was coming here!

Yes, it was the victorious Sampei, who, having duly visited his mother, was coming to see his sister. For she was really his sister now; and he had heard from the Abbess an account of the condition of things, which, though guarded, pleased him little. When far away, he had received the news of the marriage, he had been amazed, and laughed; annoyed somewhat, he scarcely knew why. To think that the destined husband should be his own brother! And then he had felt grave doubts as to the success of the union; and then, light and débonnaire, and occupied with much cheerful splitting of skulls, he had put the subject from him. He was no marrying man-not he. His sword was his true love; to others he had not the smallest intention of being true. To cull the most fragrant flowers while the sun was shining-as many and as various as possible-and get others when they were faded, was his soldierly but scarcely moral code of ethics. And yet, while gaily slaughtering the Coreans, he had time now and then to hope that all was right at home, and that his white fawn was happy; and it was gruesome now on his return to discover that she was wretched instead of happy, – his half-suspected previsions justified.

He flung his bridle to his betto, and striding with the firm and springy step of buoyant youth through the plantation of cherries and maples, stood still to take in the scene. And a pretty picture it was that his vision lighted on. An awning of fine blue linen, broidered with deer, in memory of beloved Nara, cast a shadow upon the mats of the summer-house, which were further shaded by a natural cascade of wisteria. Around the raised platform were tall camellias in full blow, scarlet and white; and within, the carved but unvarnished woodwork showed its grain like the pattern on watered silk. A low gilt screen, painted with chrysanthemums, divided the floor in two, in the front part of which was a firebox in finest bronze, representing a dragon coiled round a blossom of the lotus. A long flat koto, with thirteen strings, encrusted with gold and ebony, stood close by; and on the yellow matting, half raised expectantly, reclined the young mistress of the hermitage. The eyes of Sampei moistened with unaccustomed tears, and a knot rose in his throat as he contemplated his old ally. She was matured-fairer than of yore, paler and thinner, and more delicately beautiful; but there was that about her that seemed too ethereal, stamped with predestined misfortune. He seemed to be aware of a something, reflected in light from the glow of another world. The roundness of youth was gone. The arch wayward tricks of irresponsible maidenhood had given place to a reserved and haughty dignity that was unnaturally still. The eyes were unduly large, and, surrounded with bistre circles, glistened with feverish lustre. Sampei's affectionate gaze could mark all this, though the winsome face was brightened now with the radiance of a glad surprise.

Sampei, bluff and careless though he generally was, could not but trace with sinking of the heart the line of precocious sorrow ploughed large and deep upon it. The coils of massive hair appeared heavier and more sombre by contrast with the ivory whiteness of the skin, slightly relieved as they were by a bunch of fresh red blossoms, which the loving hand of a tirewoman had tucked under the comb.

In accordance with the exigencies of her rank, she wore four under-robes of silk, the edges of which, in stripes of varied colour, showed at throat and open sleeves, while the ample folds of the heavy and voluminous outer robe, broidered in a design of fans, were held together by a magnificent obi-pale brown, bedizened with black butterflies.

Never had Sampei, whom a wide experience had made an expert in such matters, looked on a more complete embodiment of patrician womanhood. Strange! He, so well versed in female charms, so used to the spectacle of beauty in all ranks and phases, felt his heart throb in quite unaccustomed fashion, and yearn unaccountably towards his sister.

CHAPTER IV.
THE ABBESS GIVES ADVICE

With a great sob O'Tei sprang up, and, clinging closely to Sampei, burst into tears, while he, embarrassed and somewhat shy, stood waiting. Why this display of trouble so deep that it racked her frame? Had his mother concealed aught? She had not led him to suppose that it was as bad as this. Could No-Kami, careless of the treasure he possessed, have done her some grievous wrong? At the thought, the young General's dark face grew darker, and as a flood of wrath surged over him, he looked a genuine Hojo. And with it came a sense of something new and astonishing, which was to himself a riddle. Careless and light of heart, accustomed to look at things from their best point, and to delve no lower than was needful, he never dreamed of his old playfellow in her new sphere as wan and wasted and miserable, and with the feeling of indignation against his brother there was mixed a whimsical regretful longing. Had he not been wrong, when he might have taken the maid himself, to leave her for another?

Worldly-wise Sanjo had warned him that so dainty a dish was not for a soldier of fortune, and he had seen the prudence of the warning. But cold prudence is a mistake sometimes, as who should know better than a soldier? He felt sure that if, when playfully talking in the sylvan glades, he had led her to a pool, and, showing her the two faces reflected there, had pictured himself as the future lucky one, his playfellow would have returned his hand-clasp, and submitted to a lover's embrace. And when a maiden and a youth are of one mind, and the latter is energetic and determined, nine chances are in his favour, despite opposition of parents. It was diffidence that had undone him, and her. Although a rough soldier, he would, at home, have softened his roughness for her sweet sake, and if careful striving could have done it, have made her life a pleasant one. And now, fool that he had been, it was too late! Some such surprising thoughts as these-dark regretful visions of possibilities vanished-flitted across the mind of the young man as, her breast against his in perilous proximity, he kissed her perfumed hair. Scales seem to fall from his eyes as he questioned his own heart. In his brief career he had adored many a damsel, and had sworn to each to worship none but her; but with O'Tei it was quite different. With thought of her was mingled a respect he had never felt for other women. Once his very own, he could and would have been true to her, – have made it the joy of life to give her every pleasure, to watch and guard and shelter her from the blustering winds of the world-and it was too late! She was the wife of his own brother, – of him to whom, independent of natural affection, he owed allegiance as head of his clan. To her also then he in some sort owed faithful service. Yes, and he would be true and loyal. He swore it now, silently but fervently, as she lay upon his bosom. She had never known that he loved her otherwise than as a brother should. He would be her own true knight, with the privilege of bestowing all succour and comfort and counsel. Of the three, alas! she now stood in bitter need.

On his return from his arduous campaign of five years, he had been received with acclamation by the people, to whom glorious feats of arms were as the odour of the lily in the nostrils. They had knocked their foreheads in the dust, had pursued him with shouts in the streets, nearly tearing his garments from off his back; in their enthusiasm had well nigh forgotten that he came of the blood of Hojo; but the sweets of well-earned popularity were no little embittered by the proceedings of the head of his house. The tales he heard on his arrival filled him with shame and horror, and his honest soul was sore perplexed, torn as it was between the traditional blind obedience to the head of the clan, and indignant disapproval of his acts. He could not turn against his brother. Death would be better that disloyalty, and yet it was very terrible by silence to seem to acquiesce in his misdeeds. When fitting opportunity offered, he would remonstrate with No-Kami, – point out to him that his course must end in civil war, – that in his next life he would of a surety be a bear or pig, as a just and dire retribution for recklessly plunging his country in blood. It was his duty to remonstrate, and he would do so gently but firmly, come what might. Not that much good would come of it. He knew No-Kami to be as headstrong as he was fierce. There would be high words, and possible estrangement. Estrangement! no, for the sake of this girl, that must be avoided at all hazards. He must cultivate diplomacy-he, the simple Sampei. If it was only the pounding of an enemy, something bluff and straightforward, he would be in his element. But to smile when inclined to curse, to be compelled to bite your lip and swallow down the burning words of just anger, to Sampei would be very difficult. He must try though. His poor sweet sister. Her sobs were due on this occasion, happily, to joy and relief at his return, in that she, the lonely and forlorn, had a trusty champion by her side. Instinct told him this.

For her sake, then, he must not break with his brother, for, forbidden access to his sister-in-law, he would be of no service in extremity. In extremity! What prophetic foreboding was it that whispered to him of something terrible behind, wherein she would need all the help that his strong arm could give her? Ah! if he had spoken when he might, how different it would all have been. Too late-that chapter was closed. He was to be her knight-vigilant and true. With a deep sigh, he raised her tear-stained face, and kissed her lips, then put her gently from him.

Side by side, and hand in hand, as in the old days, they reclined upon the mat, and the frown deepened on his brow as she told her story, – the uncomely story of selfishness, and greed, and cruelty, and wrong, waxing with impunity daily worse, till even sleepy Buddha must needs wake soon, and be impelled to hurl his thunderbolts. She told of the starving multitudes, to whom the son of the horse-leech cried "Give"; of the petition, and his brutal treatment of the elders. "If only I could serve as sacrifice," she said, in conclusion, with a fresh burst of tears, "how gladly would I lay down my life. But my lord and I are strangers. I dwell here, and he at Kiŷoto. Does not that tell its tale? The wind might as well preach to him as I. At first he liked me a little, but that soon passed. Of late his presence-knowing of what he is capable-has filled me with a nameless terror, for I seem to detect something in his eye that suggests a brain distracted. He is blood-drunk; his very laugh conceals a sword. And yet 'tis an awful thing for me, his wife, to sit by, attempting nothing."

No doubt the chatelaine ought to do something-what? Like Philippa, at Calais, she should wring, by pleading, from her lord, the lives of the condemned. Yet if the pair were so estranged, would she not be laying herself open uselessly to some insult, some rebuff? She admitted that she was growing afraid of her husband. That was bad. The situation was too many-sided for the soldier's unpolished wits. He pondered, and held his peace, and looked up with a sense of relief when, a shadow darkening the light, he beheld his mother, Masago.

The ascetic Abbess gazed proudly and fondly on her son, but with a tinge of concern. She had followed him from the temple, seeing that he turned his horse towards the summer-house; for she loved O'Tei, and was aware of the early passages which had passed between girl and boy. Sampei had such a free way of making love to every woman, that she, elderly and sensible, saw keenly the danger to both, if the neglected wife and pitying brother-in-law were thrown too much together. Side by side, hand clasped in hand, exchanging confidences. An ominous beginning. It was well that she had come, for these young people must be protected against themselves.

While O'Tei, with a ghostly revival of coquetry, was arranging her tumbled hair by aid of a silver mirror, the Abbess drew her son aside, pleading urgent and important business.

"My boy," she said, as, out of earshot, the two paced slowly in the shade, "you are as brave and true as even I could desire, and gratefully I thank the gods for it; but you are guileless; your arm is stronger than your head, and your blood is overwarm."

Perceiving a ludicrous expression of bewilderment on the honest face of her son at this mysterious preamble, she gently smiled, and shook her head at him.

"The best friend a man has," she observed, "is his mother; for a mother's love, undervalued often, is tinged with no selfish taint. Child, child," she sighed, placing a fond hand on his broad shoulder, "take warning while there's time. Do not think me blind, or foolishly importunate. You love O'Tei, and, for sake of both, had better keep apart. Think what tragedy might follow if your brother had cause for jealousy."

Love O'Tei! Was it so patent, then? – he the last to know it? The General in silence walked up and down, while his mother gazed upon him wistfully. There was a deep sadness on his face that pained her. Perhaps in speaking out so plainly, she had been precipitate. Yet no; she had never been one to beat about a bush. Her stern creed admitted no half measures. Presently Sampei spoke.

"For once, most dear and wise of mothers, you are wrong," he said. "I love her; yes, I will not deny it-how much I did not know until ten minutes since. My love is so true and pure, that to save her a momentary grief I would fling myself off yonder rock. Be not afraid; no harm shall come to her through me."

"Noble and chivalrous in intent, just like my boy," nodded the sapient Abbess. "Maybe you are strong enough to carry out your resolve unflinchingly; but what of her? What if she, less prudent and more weak, were to bestow her heart on you? It would lead to general wretchedness, if not to her undoing."

Sampei had not considered it from that point, and ruefully rubbed his nose. It would no doubt be very awkward if O'Tei were to become enamoured of him. In that case, heroic leaps off rocks would be of little service. Then he burst into a loud shout of laughter.

"How like a mother!" he crowed. "Her own offspring being, of course, perfect-a full-plumaged phœnix-all must needs fall down and worship. Believe me, she is as pure as the dawn; her affection that of a sister."

"Now, perhaps, and I sincerely hope so," replied the Abbess quietly; "but you have no right to place her in temptation. So you deem me a silly old woman, too partial to her featherpated son? Well, then, I am forced to tell you, as a warning, that which I intended to conceal, to show that you are over-modest. I trow there are maids galore who wear the willow in secret for the most brilliant soldier in Japan. There is one luckless girl I wot of, who has flung her foolish heart at you-who weeps and languishes for love of you-swears she will have no other lord. Fie! She is a good and honest girl, who would never have thus bestowed herself without encouragement."

"Bestowed herself on me?" exclaimed Sampei, round-eyed, and feeling guilty.

"Her name is Miné."

"Miné!" ejaculated the careless scapegrace. "Tush! I know no Miné."

"For shame! Oh, light and fickle, it is as I guessed," returned the Abbess, with a head-shake that would have been solemn but for a sly flash of merriment in the usually stern eyes. "I have no excuse for the maid, since 'tis vastly reprehensible to throw your heart at one who does not want it; and yet, when her only child is so extremely fascinating, a mother must be indulgent." Sampei appearing quite mystified, Masago pursued more gravely, – "You used to single the poor thing out, bad boy, she says, at the rustic festivals here five years ago, and give her fans and hairpins. Unfortunate Miné! You turned her head, and have forgotten even her name. Do you remember Koshiu, the farmer?"

Miné, Koshiu's daughter. Dear me! a pretty little thing, with a temper that it was such sport to play upon. Of course Sampei remembered now, for indeed the too independent Koshiu, dreading some such misfortune as had come to pass, had testily turned upon the dallying swain, which had mightily offended his lordship.

And for hopeless love of him this silly soul had been sighing all these years, with nothing to feed on but a few idle compliments. Sampei felt a twinge of conscience, was angry with himself, for perhaps he had been too ardent. Then he felt annoyed with the too-confiding maiden too easily won. A few common-place attentions, that was all, out of mere idleness. A pretty pass if all the young women whom one ogles were to insist on claiming one for life. What a pother about nothing. It is extremely immodest and indecent of maidens to give themselves away unasked.

And then his thoughts reverted to that other lady, sitting yonder before the mirror, and a pang of distress swept over his features as he dreamed again of what might have been; the which perceiving the Abbess whispered, – "Be of good cheer, my son. By divine grace it will be for the best. My prayers added to hers, the maiden's mind will recover calm, and through the black passage of this hopeless love be led from earth to heaven. As a daughter of the people who has bestowed herself on you, I will cherish her. Already she has sought refuge under our roof, and ere long will become one of us for life."

He then, the light and jovial, was to be responsible for making of the poor maid a nun.

Sobered and saddened, and made uncomfortable internally by all he had seen and heard since his return, Sampei led his mother back towards the summer-house, where the young chatelaine was beginning to marvel at the length of their private colloquy. In this retreat, where she expected no visitors, O'Tei dispensed with the service of her ladies, for it was a relief to think out her dreary thoughts with none to read them on her countenance. Now, with a new sprightliness to which she had been long a stranger, she busied herself with hospitable cares. Placing on the firebox a daintily-wrought kettle of fine bronze, she produced from a gold-lacquered cabinet three fairy cups of the eggshell white porcelain of Hirado, placed a pinch of tea in each, and waiting for the water to boil, made ready to play the hostess.

It was with a tightening about the heart that Sampei watched her long fingers arranging sweetmeats on a tray, pouring water on the leaves, which straightway expanded, and turned the liquid of a pale straw colour. Had he not been so diffident and addlepated while there was time, she would not now have been so thin and wan; those teacups might have been his teacups, and-well, well. He was till death her own true knight, demanding nothing in exchange for his unselfish devotion. To his heart he would repeat this o'er and o'er again till it was used to it. What might have been was not to be. There was nothing now to be gained by brooding or railing against his own stupidity.

Over their refection the trio returned to the all-engrossing topic, – what was to be done for the poor suffering people? – how was the despot to be softened, and the imprisoned elders saved? Sampei related that the news of his coming must have preceded him, for no sooner had he clattered over the long wooden bridge which gives access to the main street of Tsu, than two ancient men had stopped him, and craved an immediate audience. Unlike my lord No-Kami, he had drawn rein at once, and listened; and the ancient men, with profuse grovellings, had implored my lord Sampei to use his personal influence for the rescue of the incarcerated headmen. It was indeed a heinous deed of insolence, they admitted with groans, to have sinned to the extent of imploring to be lightened of their burthens, but death of any kind was preferable to such a life as they endured at present. They reverently allowed that torments were deserved, but humbly implored mercy and consideration, for the sake of wives and children Sampei had been much shocked, for, to his generous nature, grovelling humility was offensive; and did not know what to do. He, as well as O'Tei, was resolved that something must be done for the sake of humanity, as well as to rescue from execration the unpopular name of Hojo. Perhaps the Abbess, the wise counsellor, would be good enough to settle what.

Now if Masago had a weakness (I am not prepared to say she had not), it was an appreciation of her position as chief adviser to every one. She therefore drank another cup of tea, then clearing her throat, began, -

"My counsel is this. My lord Hojo No-Kami must be brought to yield. Probably he will not be sorry of an excuse to do so, considering that after such an act of clemency as the remitting of torment, the elders, cowed and abashed, will be too frightened to say more about the taxes; whereas, if the men suffer, there will be further outcry, and the tax question will come yet more prominently forward, producing lamentable results. Hence my lord will probably, as I say, be glad of an excuse to send the people back, if they promise to be more amenable in future. It would be well if he owed his way out of the difficulty to his wife, for it would soften his animosity against her, and would cause the people to venerate her even more than they do already. My son, Sampei, could not be more popular than he is-praise be to the gods-but it would be pleasing to his mother if he were joined in the work of mercy. I therefore propose that the Lady O'Tei forthwith do indite upon a roll a personal request to her husband, craving as a boon the lives of the condemned, and tying it in a box of tortoiseshell, do consign it to her brother-in-law, that he may ride with all speed to Kiŷoto, and, delivering the box, do add his own entreaties to his sister's-so may we be sure to gain our end, and avert a serious danger."

So succinct an oration, brief, and to the point, and patly delivered, deserved another cup of tea, and while she sipped it leisurely, Masago improved the occasion.

"My dear," she said, "I saw you shudder. This will never do. It is the greatest of mistakes to let such a man as Mylord No-Kami know that you are afraid of him. I noted in his childhood how he always treated more scurvily the hirelings who cringed."

"I never cringed!" exclaimed O'Tei proudly.

"No; but if I mistake not, you have let him perceive fear, under a veil of contempt. Should he realise this, he will follow up the advantage, and all will indeed be lost. You should have coped with him at first, my lily. It would have been better for both, believe me."

O'Tei twined her fingers together in distress. Had not the small voice within her whispered this long since. She did fear him, and dislike him, and despise him. Cope with him forsooth! How could she do it now? How could she ever have summoned sufficient moral courage? No; having retired into her shell of pride, she would stop there to the end, but in this matter of the elders she might bestir herself. Drawing forth a roll of paper, O'Tei and Sampei, with heads closer together than Masago approved, proceeded to concoct a warily-worded epistle.

Masago was truly an extremely clever old dame, for with her one stone she slew a variety of birds. O'Tei would be the happier in that she had been induced to intercede. She would gain points in the affections of the people, and so would the beloved Sampei. The latter, as bearer of the missive, would be removed forthwith from perilous association with his sister-in-law; he would also be removed from the temptation to reconnoitre Miné, who, the Abbess firmly resolved, was to shave her head immediately. This, being obstinate like her father, she would, doubtless, decline to do if the too warm-blooded warrior were to see and fancy her afresh.

The combination was artful from all points of view, and did credit to the adviser of every one. The elders would return unharmed, and, after a severe lesson, would be more dutiful. The storm would blow over, and all might repose in peace.

Alack! Masago knew nothing of the resolve of Koshiu. Had she known that he proposed to call, if necessary, for the individual intervention of the sublime Mikado himself, her eyes would have goggled in her head at his audacity, and her counsel might have been of a different order.

CHAPTER V.
THE FARMER GIRDS HIS LOINS

The journey from Tsu to Kiŷoto may be made by one in haste, mounted on a strong horse, in two days, but in a land where trade is carried on in perfunctory fashion, time is and ever was a cheap commodity. In a shop the traders squat smoking on the mat, grin, prostrate themselves with head-knockings on your entrance, offer a cup of tea and a pipe, and consider that all has been done that may in fairness be required of them. In need of goods, you must search yourself, pull things from shelves, till you do or do not find the object you require. As with trade so is it to this day with travel. An energetic foreigner, by a liberal showering of yens, may induce his kuruma-runners to cover thirty miles per diem; but the Japanese of all ranks prefer to journey quietly, jogging along in kagos, at the favourite and decorous pace of the familiar snail. Indeed the higher the social status of the traveller, the slower will be his progress, for impedimenta are symbols of dignity.

Our magnificent young General, although on horseback, was surrounded and followed by a rabble, who for the most part were on foot. There was the inevitable bodyguard of swaggering samurai, who, with hair shorn from temples, and swords in red lacquer scabbards ostentatiously displayed, cultivated a scowling expression of perpetual defiance, incarnation of haughtiness, fanatical patriotism, and contempt of everybody but themselves. Then there were cotton-coated and straw-sandalled baggage-men by scores in charge of strings of packhorses; a group of sutlers; and, swaying in rear of the procession, an unwieldy but gaily-bedizened kago, for my lord to recline in when fatigued.

There being no professional fun toward, neither master nor men were in a hurry. To come upon a roadside tea-house, with its bevy of laughing waitresses, meant the performance of a variety of operations: tea-sipping, smoking, drowsy lounging, jesting, active dallying, and then unlimited sleep.

At first the method of progression was of the slowest, for the marshy plain was cut by various rivers, which had to be crossed in barges; then came a stretch of paddy, or rice fields; a green sea of slush bisected by a narrow gangway of stones, along which two men were unable to trudge abreast. Then, the foot of the hills being reached, there was a long and weariful ascent of rock and sliding stones-a climb over precipice and crag by a way that could scarce be called a path-and a descent on the other side as difficult. This feat accomplished, it was, of course, necessary to bathe, and worship in an adjoining temple, and rest and sleep again, and so it took more than a week for the cavalcade to reach the capital.

At approach of the noisy procession the mountaineer cottagers peeped out of their secluded dwellings, but perceiving the company of samurai, speedily put up their paper shutters, and made believe to be not at home. For the two-sword man was apt to ape the vices of his betters, and leave behind a trail of ruin such as marks the passage of the locust.

Sampei was too busy with his own thoughts-which were gloomy enough, in sooth-to take heed of those he passed; and even if he had done so, would probably have failed to recognise an elderly pedestrian, who glared with hate from under beetle-brows, at the young noble riding by. Having forgotten even the name of the luckless Miné, it was not likely that he would quickly recognise her father, clad now in dusty pilgrim garb of white, and wide mushroom hat of rice straw. For Koshiu, true to his resolve, was also going to Kiŷoto to watch events, and fulfil, if need were, his self-imposed and dangerous mission. Like all fervent worshippers of Buddha, the sturdy farmer had no fear of death; like other natives of Japan, he was eminently superstitious. Among the Asiatic poor, where ceaseless drudgery, and hunger never fully satisfied, are the common lot; where the tax-gatherer and the avaricious noble are the representatives of government; where earthquake and typhoon cause the forces of nature to be feared as malignant influences; life is not so pleasant as to cause the earthly wayfarer to long for its continuance.

The announcement of the Christian dogma that "the gift of God is eternal life," would rather pain than delight a Japanese, for to him life in any form is to be dreaded-not because death is at the end of it, but because another birth and death must follow (possibly more painful still) – then other births and deaths-links in a long and weary chain, before attaining the ultimate haven. The moral pang that may possibly attend decease, consists in the parting from those whom he holds dear, and will, save under miraculous circumstances, never see again; for the Christian hope of meeting in a better world finds place but rarely in the Buddhist's mind. The chief deity, if slow and somniferous was just, and would (Koshiu argued) surely protect the family of him who was sacrificed for the common weal. There is a temple even now at Kiŷoto, standing on a dizzy height, whose terrace is protected by a strong pallisade, for, unless prevented, it is the practice of the faithful to crave a boon of the god, then fling themselves over the precipice, in the firm belief that-if the boon is to be granted-the deity will hold them scathless. It is strange that the number of bodies shattered on the stones below should not have shaken their faith either in the goodness or the power of the god. Having made up his mind that, if need were, he, the humble peasant, would invoke the sacred and mysterious Mikado's aid, Koshiu passed a night in prayer, then washed and dressed himself in the attire common to high and low who are engaged on a holy mission, and took a tender farewell of his family. There was his dear wife, Kennui; his three boys, Gennosuké, Sôkei, and Kibachi, ranging in years from thirteen to seven. Miné was unaccountably absent, but she was always a froward and unruly maid, wild and disobedient. On this solemn occasion, however, her father left for her a tender message of farewell, and amid the tears and outcries of those who feared that they never again might look on him, tore himself away.

This was on the day before Sampei's arrival, – on the morning which followed the consultation in the farmer's dwelling. The elders, filled with admiration for the single-minded heroism of the man whom they had deemed slow and selfish, went with him, marshalled by Rokubei and Zembei, to the entrance of the town, and with many blessings and prayers, wished the traveller success.

Urged on to speed by an engrossing object, he caught up, and, strong and stout of limb, passed the straggling array of Sampei, arriving in the capital two days before him. The imprisoned envoys were still in durance, he learned from one of those who had escaped, and lurked in hiding. My lord No-Kami-orders having in heat been issued for seizure and incarceration-had apparently forgotten their existence. The threatened vengeance of torment had not been wreaked, and yet their position was no pleasing one, for my lord's soldiers-the peasants and the military class were never friendly-amused themselves with the poor wretches, as cats play with mice-haling them out for diversion-depriving them of drink-pretending to offer saké, and when they held out eager hands for it, playfully pricking them with dirks. At the relation, the blood of Koshiu boiled within him.

These men-honoured and revered at home-who had done naught save humbly to implore redress of grievances, were being murdered piecemeal. It mattered not that my lord had never ordered it. His lawless myrmidons took from him their cue, satisfied that they would not be punished. If the poor things must die, the more speedily the better; but Koshiu swore, with oaths that terrified his listeners, that their deaths should be avenged. Alack! Koshiu must be mad. He prated as if himself a daimio, or a least a samurai or hatamoto! A mosquito on a wall might as well shake a paw, and vow to avenge the slaughter of his fellows! And then at the boldness of his speech they shivered, considering whether it would not be more prudent to withdraw from the society of so rash a person, and sneak back to their crumbling homes. Of a certainty it would, for with even the Mikado himself, the revered and mystical, the insect presumed to find fault. Next he would be falling foul of Buddha, who, putting out a finger, would crush him-and them along with him-the blasphemer; and what then would be their fate in the next cycle? In horror and dread they wrung their hands, and banged their apologetic foreheads on the floor, and, drawing forth beads, told them with feverish rapidity.

These were the words that entered their astounded ears. "For generations stretching back into the shadow of time," the over-bold farmer said, "has our master dwelt behind a screen, looked on by no eyes but those of the kugés and his attendants. Nothing outside the screen penetrates to him save through the mouths of these. Being a mortal, if a highly-privileged one, he cannot see all, like Buddha, himself unseen. We are his, and we revere him, but he knows naught of us, and can know naught, secluded and fenced about, and thereby neglects his duty-for even he has duties; and if, which is unhappily true, the latter-day Mikados have been evilly entreated and dethroned and sent into banishment, 'tis by reason of this sin, and the vile Hojos have been but instruments of retribution in the hand of an offended deity."

What subversive doctrines were these uttered by a presuming pigmy? The horror-stricken elders glanced furtively one at the other with the same thought. Instead of a possible saviour, this man was a firebrand who would involve others in his well-merited ruin. Perchance it would be well to betray him at once to my lord No-Kami, and thereby earn their pardon? Koshiu read their thoughts, and sighed, wishing them no evil. The views of the sturdy farmer were beyond them. As well talk to the trees-better, for the leaves would not shake with terror, and consider the expediency of treachery. He resolved to shut up his opinions therefore within his own bosom, and calmly discussed, without further blasphemy, what the next move should be.

As there was no possibility of, for the present at least, making any move at all, they were still idly chattering when, a few days later, they were startled by the appearance of the very envoys whose rescue was under discussion. They were thin, and gnarled, and haggard, and wrinkled-but then a Japanese peasant over the age of twenty is never a pretty object-yet in health seemed well enough. The tale of the saké and dirks must have been the invention of the foe. And yet to Koshiu these village elders looked suspiciously meek and lowly, more so than the humblest peasant should; indeed their bearing was not unlike that of a mongrel dog, that still smarts under severe correction. At first it was impossible to get anything out of them but fawning praise of the Hojo, uttered in trembling accents, in which fear battled with incoherence. Hojo was excellent and merciful. Had he not deigned to forgive their unpardonable sin, and set them free unhurt? Let them live under their own hats and be content, he had declared. If there were any noble individuals more admirable than the gracious lord No-Kami-and that was scarcely possible-those two were their liege lady and the General Sampei; for 'twas through the intervention of these that my lord had condescended to remember the existence of his humblest tenants, who might otherwise have been still in duress.

With lowering brow Koshiu looked upon his fellows, for these cringing, spirit-broken villagers belonged to the same class as he. Were they worth saving, at the risk of his own life? And then a vision of the misery at Tsu, the growing suffering of all down-trodden Japan, rose upon his vision. No-Kami, thanks to the pleading of his wife and brother, had been pleased, after outrage and ignominy, to release the men who had committed no crime. But what of their petition? The petition? Let it go hang! The well-whipped hounds preferred that the subject should be dropped. How ill-timed was any mention of the petition. It had brought nothing but trouble-the less said about it the better. All they desired was to depart with speed. The sportive samurai might swoop again. Baring their arms, the envoys showed their wounds. The story of the saké was true, then. Little wonder if the starved wretches had had enough of the facetious horseplay of the soldiers.

Koshiu paced the mat with folded arms. Yes, they were right, and had better go and save their wizened carcases. Here they were of no service, only butts for scoffers. My lady O'Tei all knew to be an angel; but that the newly-arrived General should interest himself in peasants, was curious; and then the thought flashed suddenly on the indignant father that the absence of Miné from her home had coincided with the arrival of Sampei. Her tender pronunciation of his name, and constant championship, recurred to his memory, and he shrank as from strokes of the bamboo. As profligate as all the Hojos, he had, of course, signalled his return by the seduction of an innocent and too-trusting maiden, who, by-and-by, he would fling away. Perhaps from out that curtained kago on the road his erring daughter may have peeped at him. If it were so, never, never would he forgive his child. Had he not warned her of his undying hatred of Hojos, of all connected with bloodthirsty brutal tyrants? With difficulty controlling his emotions, while his comrades more than ever deemed him dangerously insane, he told them they were right. Since they could serve no further purpose, they had better go back to Tsu, and speedily. For his own part, he would remain, and bide his time, and, when opportunity offered, present the petition to the Emperor.

And so, after a sad and parting feast, the band of elders returned to their place, and Koshiu dwelt alone, brooding over his wrongs, over the oppression of his class, and the ruin of his daughter, while his family bewailed at home. His impression was that the Mikado's supineness rose not from weakness but from indifference, out of which he might be roused. One day arrived a pedlar with news from Tsu, and a melancholy message from his wife, the faithful Kennui, which completely satisfied his mind that his suspicions were but too well founded. Miné had never again sought the legitimate shelter of her parents' roof, but was dwelling, if report spoke truly, with the mother of Sampei. Even she, then, the peasant-born, suffered under the taint which enveloped that hated race. The Abbess, who pretended to be pious, could stoop to shield his daughter's infamy, and give shelter to the mistress of her son. Poor soul, had she not been herself a concubine, and debased by pernicious surroundings? Ah, but the position of second wife-acknowledged concubine-was different from that of his own degraded daughter. No fixed position was hers, of course, or ever would be, since she had been so misguided as to throw herself into her lover's arms. And when he was weary of her? It would not bear thinking of, for Koshiu in his way was proud as any noble. Sampei and his mother were as bad as the rest, worthy to wear the cognisance of Hojo. The longer the farmer brooded, the harder grew his heart, the more bitter his resentment, and he hailed with fierce joy the news, at last, that the Mikado was to visit Nara.

It was a solemn ceremony the pilgrimage of the Emperor to the Sacred Groves of Nara, one which, although the distance was short, he was expected to perform but once or twice during his career. Unlike lesser magnates, who were content with kagos-litters, more or less sumptuous, borne on men's shoulders-the Mikado travelled in a ponderous carriage on huge cumbrous wheels, its roof thatched with the long grey straws of a peculiar grass, its wood-work elaborately lacquered with the imperial crest, its windows closely curtained with the finest matting, which flapped with many tassels. The progress of so unwieldy a machine over a primitive road was slow. In front went a bodyguard on foot, followed by soldiers on horseback; then came the weighty kagos of the kugés in attendance, brave with banners and devices; then the Mikado's swaying uneasy carriage, drawn by eight horses in broidered housings; then more heavy litters and more soldiers, and a long straggling tail like that of a kite, composed of servants and rabble. It took many hours to penetrate through the tortuous and squalid suburbs of the capital, consisting for the most part of the shops of pawnbrokers and vendors of cheap toys and idols, jutting at will into the road, the procession stopped from time to time by hosts of the faithful on their faces.

Once free of buildings, the imperial cortége advanced by a wide way straight as an arrow across a plain devoted to the cultivation of tea, and by nightfall reached Uji. Here there was a villa overhanging with wide, wooden balconies a rushing stream-the Uji-Kawa, which rises in lake Biwa-spanned by a semicircular bridge formed of an intricate network of heavy timbers, for in winter this river swells into a torrent, sweeping all that is weak before it. This villa was for the special use of the sovereign, as might be guessed, from its lack of adornment. So high is the Mikado, that, in a general way, he is above the employment of ornament. His villas and summer-houses (unlike those of his brother of China) are as conspicuous for simplicity as his dress. Everything is of the very best that skill can produce, the woodwork of the very finest which the hand of man can command, the mats trimmed with a red and white braid forbidden to other men. His eyes look upon no pictures or porcelains or bronzes, for to one who communes at will with deities or spirits, and may peep even sometimes into Nirvana, such trivialities are, of course, superfluous. In the Imperial Palace of Kiŷoto it is different, for there he deigns to associate in a degree with mere common nobles and wives, to whom austere simplicity would be depressing if not soul-withering. In this villa, the Emperor, by time-honoured custom, was to pass the night, his cortége camping around for the protection of the sacred person.

Now Koshiu, whose object in life was the presenting of a memorial which should lead to the abrogation of imposts, and the holding up of the Hojos to deserved obloquy, knew right well that there was no reaching the imperial ear, either in Kiŷoto or on the road to Uji, by reason of a throng of guards. During the next day's route over the mountains, on the other side of which was Nara, the cumbrous carriage would be prevented from toppling over by myriad hands pressed on either wheel, but the brilliant idea had occurred to the farmer that in crossing the timber bridge, whose width was just sufficient for the passage of the vehicle, there would be none to defend either of the curtained windows, the guards of necessity passing on in front or dropping behind until the stream was crossed, and that here lay his only chance. In the night therefore, after prayers and ablutions, he took advantage of the darkness to swim into mid-stream unnoticed, and being washed against one of the pillars, to make good his footing, and climbing on the bridge, to secrete himself under a convenient shadow. Then with his knife he pruned a long bamboo, split it at the top, and inserting the memorial therein, awaited day.

The journey was yet long to Nara, and over the mountains fraught with possible disaster, so all were early astir. With wildly-beating heart and throbbing temples Koshiu heard the clatter of horses overhead, the rhythmed step of infantry, and then the thunder of the great wheels grinding under their heavy load. Now or never. Calculating his time to a nicety, the farmer nimbly climbed upon the parapet, and before the astonished guards could stop him, lifted a corner of the mat, and inserting his bamboo, cried in a loud voice, -

"Take, O great Mikado! Fountain of Honour, this the petition of your humblest slave. Have pity on your people, O sovereign lord, ground down by the wicked Hojo!"

The driver of the horses, aghast, stopped open-mouthed; the cavalcade stood still; the guards, with a yell, dashed clambering forward, to fling into the stream this audacious one, riddled with sword-thrusts; but the old Daimio of Nara, who, disdaining a kago, rode close behind, spurred quickly through the men, and, raising both hands, bade them refrain. He had caught the words "wicked Hojo," saw that what might have been a spear was already withdrawn, and was no more than a cleft stick, and guessed the purport of the attempt.

"'Tis a petition," Nara cried. "Our imperial lord already holds the man's paper in his sacred hand. It is for him, and not for us, to decide upon his fate."

Clutched by a dozen fists, Koshiu remained poised and stifled on the parapet, and presently a low voice issued from the shadow.

"I will read the petition on my return from the sacred groves. Keep the man close and safe. See that no harm comes to him."

The Daimio of Nara, with a cunning smile lurking about his lips, gave orders that the pilgrim should be safely conducted to his own private apartment in the palace, and then the ponderous procession moved on again, and crawled up the mountain.

CHAPTER VI.
THE YOUNG MIKADO

Tomoyé, the brawny but practical, proved herself more clear-sighted than the statesman-warrior her husband. Hojo, the elder, certainly made the most serious blunder of his life when he arranged that marriage for his heir. A gulf 'twixt a husband and a wife cannot but widen daily, and the part of the latter, right or wrong, is sure to be espoused by her father. The admirable combinations that were to result from an alliance of the houses of Hojo and Nara were conspicuous by absence. As time went on, the haughty No-Kami, averse at all times to advice, showed to his wife's parent his most aggressive side, lest he should presume to lecture.

Although the Daimio of Nara had seen but little of his child, he had received from time to time such affectionate reports concerning the maiden, from the priests and priestesses who had supervised her education, that he was fully conscious of her worth. Between the two lords there was a show of courtesy, which masked on the one side jealousy of interference, on the other, hate. The father of O'Tei, although he pretended to perceive nothing, resented bitterly the scornful neglect with which she was treated by her spouse. During the rare visits of the young chatelaine to the capital, he could see how sad she was, and worn and listless, instead of vivacious and gay, as became her years; and in his heart, antipathy for the despot, implanted by cruelty to the Mikado, increased a hundredfold. He was too wary to quarrel yet with Hojo, but whenever he vouchsafed advice (as he did now and then, for the sake, as he said, of the departed), it was of a kind which rendered No-Kami more execrated still, more unpopular with the people he oppressed. The return of Sampei, and the demeanour of that warrior, produced fresh combinations in the subtle brain of Nara. It was plain that he was shocked by the excesses of his brother. He came of ambitious stock, and the long bloody tale of the history of Japan is full of the rivalry of brothers. What if he could be cajoled or goaded to take arms against him? The unruly army which he had brought back from Corea, accustomed to plunder and lawless licence, would have to be employed somehow, for idleness begets mischief. So long as Mikado and Daimios remained quiescent, the swash-bucklers could not be used against them, and, unemployed they would soon be a source of trouble. What if, by waiting, the enemies of the Hojo could succeed in turning against him the very troops he had summoned for his defence; and what if, by crafty manœuvring, the disgust of Sampei could be raised to such a pitch as to induce him to resume their command?

As the general who had led them from victory to victory, his soldiers adored Sampei. In time, they might probably be made useful as a scourge for Hojo, without their commander, by prospect of pillaging castles, but if he whom they idolised were to summon them forth in the direction of their inclinations, there was no doubt they would follow in a mass. While his master was telling his beads before the great bronze idol in the Nara temple, the thoughts of the lord of the soil were engaged elsewhere, and he resolved on the first opportunity to sound Sampei, and to arrange his plans accordingly.

It was a fortnight after the incident on the bridge of Uji that the imperial cortége wound down the mountain, and returned to the palace in the capital. What a dreary spot this same palace, more like a prison than a free residence, well suited to the ghastly life of blank monotony led by its miserable occupant.

The chief abode of the Mikado occupies a vast space of ground in the centre of the city of Kiŷoto, surrounded by a high white wall, devoid of windows. Passing through a postern in a huge and highly-decorated gate, crowned by an immense tiled roof, you find yourself in a labyrinth, where you would speedily be lost without a guide, for long low buildings meander in and out, and meet at angles, one exactly like another, forming a series of little courtyards, adorned with prim grey bushes. The walls of these are of one pattern, formed of white plaster in timber settings, with heavy roofs and eaves. None of the buildings boast of more than a single storey, which is elevated on posts, a yard above the ground; this by reason of earthquakes, and unclean insects, which have no respect for Emperors. The long outer passages are protected from the weather by verandahs, because persons below a certain rank may not venture to breathe under the same roof as the Fountain of Honour, but must squat humbly in the air without. All the inner wood-work is of pine, smoothly planed, and left unpolished, set at points of junction with sumptuously sculptured nails; while mats are of the finest kind, trimmed white and red with the imperial braid. Within, the sliding screens which at will divide most of the space into small or large chambers, are of drab silk, spotted with gold dots, in form of clouds. There is no furniture, except a few low red lacquer tables.

The private suite of the Mikado saddens the soul, so small, and dismal, and uncomfortable are the rooms, or rather hutches, with no prospect or view outside, but three bare walls, a flag-pavement, and half-a-dozen bushes; and the mind turns involuntarily to the thought of Spanish Queens, whose drear existences must have been hilariously gay when compared with those of the Mikados. Sure many of these must have gone melancholy mad, or have sought relief from despondency by drowning care in the saké-cup. For the better protection of the Fountain of Honour, the two closets he inhabits are buried away in the centre of the labyrinth. There is nothing for him to hear but low, respectful sibillation, and the tramp of guards; nothing to see but nobles sprawling on their faces, with a glum background of whitewash, and a few tortoises wandering over the stones.

At the period which now concerns us, the Mikado usually sat upon a chair, while the kuges, in court trousers (Uye no Bakama) many yards under their feet, wearing high black crape hats, and brocaded trains-narrow and stiff, and of exceeding length-(kiyō) reclined around him on the mat. When the potentate felt more bored than usual, he retired into a square tent (of the size of an old-fashioned European bed) in the middle of the room; which tent was composed of snowy silk, embroidered with bamboo and storks, and garnished with long streamers, red and black, decorated with butterflies. Inside the tent was placed a chair, and two low stools.

A few yards off is a dark place surrounded by gilt folding screens, in which is another tent. This was for the Fountain of Honour when boredom reached a climax, and he felt compelled to flee mankind. On state occasions he moved into a spacious hall at the back, whose sliding screens are painted with portraits, full length, of Chinese sages, and whose look-out is a shade more cheerful; for beyond there is a garden, with a lake full of speckled fish, some groups of pines, and quaint stone bridges. In the centre of the hall is yet another tent, precisely similar to the others-for the purpose of special audience, for the room is so large, that neither the elect, who knelt around, or the unelect, who crouched in the verandah, could overhear what passed within the curtains.

Into this hall, on the day after the return, trooped all who possessed the privilege, while the yards and passages were full of hatamotos and retainers; for the Fountain of Honour, refreshed by prayer and change of scene, declared he would attend to business.

In the first place, audience must be vouchsafed to the victorious General, that he might relate his deeds of valour, and receive thanks for faithful service; and then a consultation must be held, with closed doors, on the subject of the peasant and his petition. At mention of the audacious peasant, Nara smiled quietly, for he thought he saw his way to make a weapon of him wherewith to vex the enemy.

Owing to the ruin and banishment of three Emperors, the present reigning one was a cowed youth, a pale and depressed boy, with a look of constant apprehension lurking in his eyes. So well drilled was he that the sound of his tyrant's footfall caused him to tremble; so acutely did he feel his equivocal position, that many a time, after a period of reverie, he would start and wince, as if expecting the descent of the blade that was suspended over his head. Poor Koshiu! Could he have looked on the liege lord-so timorous and helpless-who was awful, because invisible, he would probably have thought twice before making that rash attempt.

When Sampei, after prostration and the orthodox nine head-knockings of humility, was invited to occupy a stool within the tent, Nara was bidden, by a wave of the august fan, to take the other, and thus withdrawn from inquisitive eyes and ears, the Daimio of Nara deemed this to be a propitious moment for peering into the future. He drew out the modest General, and, as mouthpiece of his master, made pretty speeches, while the Mikado was anxiously scanning his face, seeking his brother's features.

Presently the Emperor gave a sigh of relief. It was a good-natured open visage, considerably tanned, ornamented (from a military point of view) by a deep scar across the brow, scored by a Corean spear. Although a Hojo, it was possible to feel comfortable in his presence, and the heart of the sad recluse quite warmed to him when Nara, with insidious flattery, related an episode of his career. He told of how young Sampei, in camp one day, investing the Taira forces, beheld a warrior whose crimson armour and golden cognisance marked him for a Taira noble. "Come hither and fight!" he cried, and both charged fiercely one at the other with gleaming blades. After a few passes, the Taira dropped his sword, and Sampei, chivalrous always, flung his away and rushed to clasp his foe. Close-locked they fell from their saddles on the sand, the Hojo uppermost. Tearing off the bedizened helm, with intent to strike, he was amazed to see not a hardy old campaigner but a delicate and lovely boy! Rising, and handing to the vanquished his headgear. "So young," he said, "thy mother yet lives, doubtless. To her I give thee-go!"

Sampei looked down and blushed, not ill-pleased that his lord should learn to like him; while the Mikado muttered behind his fan, "Can this be the brother of No-Kami?"

After this jocund opening symphony, Nara changed his tune, and as he spoke of the suffering people, the General's face grew dark and sorrowful.

"And all this is due," Nara concluded, with emphasis, "to the head of the house of Hojo, whom the gods have made pre-eminent. The greater the gift, the greater will be the punishment for opportunities misused. Dare you deny that it is so?"

Sampei shuffled on his seat, with lowered head.

"My brother is unduly harsh," he stammered, – "perchance is ignorant-"

"What of the elders, then, and their petition?" demanded Nara.

"He has sent them home unhurt!" quickly responded Sampei.

"Ay, but with wrongs unredressed."

The young General was silent.

"You are the senior in years," observed the Daimio, pursuing his advantage, "and should claim some authority; further, even, if need be-"

Sampei drew himself up with dignity.

"You, the Daimio of Nara," he said proudly, "should know what is due from a vassal to his feudal chief. I am older in years, but not pure in blood. On my mother's side I am a peasant. I may grieve over my brother's follies, even chide with respectful gentleness, further than that I may not venture, as none should know better than yourself."

Nara felt angry and disappointed, for this was not what he expected. Could this brilliant fellow be destitute of personal ambition? Perhaps, more cunning than he seemed, he was waiting for something more explicit.

"You, then, an honest man," sneered the Daimio, "are prepared to stand by and see your flesh and blood perform the work of fiends? Perhaps I have made of your character a wrong estimate. Can it be that you enjoy the grievous plight of those to whose class, as you say, you partially belong? In crime an appreciative partner-perhaps even my lord Hojo's willing executioner?"

The Daimio laughed hoarsely, while the Mikado listened with pursed lips. Apparently the young soldier was not to be roused by taunts, for with a sigh he replied sadly, -

"You wrong me. If I cannot aid, I can perish with them, and so escape dishonour."

"By hara-kiri?" retorted Nara, with impatience, "a vastly useful way of helping the afflicted! When all is lost, death by the dirk is the only appropriate end to a high-born gentleman; but an honest man and a brave may not declare that things are hopelessly wrong until he has tried to right them. That they are wrong at present you will admit, after perusing this memorial, humbly presented to our common lord by one of Hojo's vassals."

Sampei took the paper, and, as he read, grew hot and cold with pity and indignation. And it was his own flesh and blood, as Nara said, who could act thus! The indictment was terrible in its straightforward simplicity. No wonder that the gentle wife of the tyrant, knowing what she must know, was fading slowly. And there was more trouble brewing-even simple Sampei could foresee that. If No-Kami had been so incensed at the elders daring to present a petition to himself, what would his feeling be when he knew that another had been handed to the Emperor? The Mikado having publicly received, would be bound to take some notice of it, – to make some attempt to check the excesses of the despot. And, knowing his brother as he now learned to know him, Sampei looked forward in dismay, for the wheel set rolling down a hill may not be stopped, and it was but too probable that, goaded by passion uncontrolled, crime heaped upon crime would, as O'Tei had suggested, induce some dire catastrophe.

A furtive glance at the dull weak face of the Emperor was not comforting. There was vacillation in every line of it. A gleam from No-Kami's wrathful eyes and he would shrivel up. Was it indeed the duty of his elder brother to stand forward and attempt to stay his junior's downward course? 'Tis a terrible thing when two of the same kin hold swords at one another's throats. And languishing O'Tei, what of her, whom he had secretly sworn to guard and cherish? Perhaps, by slaying her husband, he would be doing her a service as well as freeing the oppressed; but that husband his brother! To slay his brother! As the picture appeared upon his mental retina, Sampei shuddered; and then the thought flashed on him with vivid clearness that the stroke which slew his brother would delve for aye an impassable chasm 'twixt himself and her he loved. The young man heaved a sigh of relief, and raised his head. He was rescued from temptation for the time being, O'Tei the saving talisman. And then, his eye falling on the petition, he grew sorely perplexed. Was the old man right? Was it his bounden duty to interfere between the tyrant and his victims? What good would come of interference? Had he not intervened already for the behoof of the unlucky elders? It was not likely that the head of his house would brook incessant meddling. Slow-witted at the best, Sampei, the more he pondered, grew more wretched and uncertain. Nara marked with approving eye the extent of his uncertainty, and cast a keen glance of intelligence at his master. The poison instilled would slowly work, or Nara had mistaken his man. The seed was sown-must be left to swell and burst. Enough was done for the present.

Obedient to the signal of his most trusted counsellor, the Mikado graciously dismissed his General, with hope revived in the future. But the hope was short-lived. Scarcely had he emerged with lightened heart from out the tent, and, summoning the kuges together, had commanded the shutters to be closed, that the petition might be privately considered, than the sound of the awful footstep was heard on the creaking boards, and the soul of the hapless Emperor died within him. He writhed and turned scarlet under the insult, when, pushing back the shutter with a crash, No-Kami unannounced strode in.

"What is this?" he cried, in a harsh voice, omitting the customary obeisance. "I should not believe it, if I did not see you shivering there, red with conscious guilt. Leniency to the scum is worse than a crime-it is a fault. It was to please your daughter, Nara-that she should condescend to plead for such insolent vermin, says little for her rearing-that I forgave those villagers. And no sooner have I committed that insensate act, than I am most justly punished for it. Where is he-he who presumed to present to you a paper? He shall never present another."

The trembling Mikado looked piteously at Nara, who, stolid, and apparently both deaf and blind, moved no muscle.

"My lord No-Kami-" began the Emperor, but was quickly silenced.

"I ask no explanation," remarked the tyrant sternly, waving away argument. "I demand the paper and the man. He is my vassal and my chattel: where is he?"

"Here, under my protection. You forget yourself, my lord!" cried the Emperor, who, deserted by Nara, was stung to a poor show of self-assertion. "Under this roof he is safe."

No-Kami raised his brows slightly, and with stiff politeness said, -

"Since when may peasants enter where knights and samurai may not? These be new manners that we can scarce approve. You, my lord Nara, I believe took charge of the man. I thank you for your courtesy, and herewith reclaim my own."

To the consternation of the Emperor, who expected that now, at least, the one to whom he pinned his faith would speak boldly, the Daimio of Nara gravely bowed, and said, -

"If such is the pleasure of our master, be it so."

Put to the test, then, Nara was a windbag that had burst! The Mikado groaned in spirit.

"You will promise that he shall not be injured," stammered he, as, wincing under the basilisk eye, and seeking support in vain, the poor boy grew sick and giddy.

"You see, Lord Nara, that 'tis our master's wish," responded No-Kami bluntly. "I make no promises. My time is valuable, and my retinue without is waiting. See that the wretch is handed over instantly for immediate transport to my yashiki." And with this the Hojo turned and strode away, without deigning to await an answer.

The cup was full. The Fountain of Honour overflowed in a torrent of brackish tears. To be insulted thus before all the court; to be treated like a child; to be bearded with such dour disdain! The fate of his three predecessors, in their tranquil monastery, was preferable to his, alone upon the rack in the midst of empty grandeur. When Nara attempted to instil words of comfort, he turned on him with the swift, unreasoning vituperation of the weak.

"You on whom I leaned," he sobbed, – "who are ever prating of the wondrous things that you are going to do! Before him you tremble more than all the rest, and sit mumchance! The man will be tormented, and I thereby eternally disgraced, since I took him under my protection. When they hear of it, what will my people say, seeing me that monster's puppet?"

"They, will pity you," replied Nara quietly, "as they pity the other three. I am not so craven as you think. What if the man be tortured? He is but a boor of little consequence, and will be none the worse for martyrdom. Let be, let be-a little patience only. The more scurvily the man is treated, the better in the end; the deeper the universal execration for him we all detest. A little time, a little time, and all will be well, believe me. We have but to sit with hands devoutly folded, and wait; for the Hojo is preparing his own undoing, – carving out his own destruction!"

CHAPTER VII.
THE FARMER'S SENTENCE

Perhaps the Daimio of Nara was right in his prognostications of the probable. Although the lives of a few peasants are to Japanese patricians of but small account, there had been considerable excitement among the daimios over Hojo's high-handed treatment of the village elders, a tornado of lamentation among the lower and unarmed classes. Had the action of the despot been voted orthodox, had he unwaveringly pursued his course, the other lords would have done the same as he with joy, to wring out additional sums for pleasant uses; but as No-Kami gave way with little pressing, and thereby stultified his action, there was a general chorus of disapproval. If, excited and cruel, he were now to inflict signal vengeance on the unfortunate farmer, there would be still further uproar; and each fresh demonstration tended to a universal rising, for the destruction of the terrible octopus. Nara was old enough to have learned that the waiting game is generally best in the end, and preached sage wisdom to his master, who wept, being foolish, and young, and also uneasy in his mind.

No-Kami was frantic with wrath when he considered Koshiu's sin. What a deplorable precedent was this! A petty farmer, little better than the common labourer, who strews the paddy field with filth, and grubs on hands on knees like a pig in the mud when the young rice begins to sprout; this abject, well-nigh four-footed, grovelling creature had absolutely, erect upon hind legs, dared to approach the head of the state-the nominal head-with a writing wherein he, the reignina Hojo-the real head of the state-was impeached and accused of misdemeanours, – even of deeds called CRIMES! Such audacity to the most nimble imagination was all but inconceivable. It was no less preposterous and ludicrous than if the brisk and too sprightly flea were, with his tiny mandibles, to assault the elephant. As he revolved the circumstance, the Daimio was so tickled that, as he paced a path in his garden outside Kiŷoto, he laughed a hard and grating cachination, that was half a snort, and shouted for a cup of warm saké, the which was brought, with the humblest of genuflections; for my lord's laugh clanked like rusty chains, and was precursor usually of bloodshed. But this was really too amusing, or would have been, if not so impudent. As he drained cup after cup of wine, my lord's mind became more active, the heat of his resentment more whitely glowing. What punishment was severe enough for such a caitiff? What was mere death, even the slowest, with ingeniously long-drawn agonies, but absurdly insufficient. The doom of the farmer must be something calculated to appal, – to spread terror broadcast, or his pestilent example might be followed by other swine. He would be a good riddance, this Koshiu, for he had always been a dangerous character, – one who dared to think for himself, actually to think, and frame views and theories of an independent and subversive kind. Oh for some brilliant idea, some happy thought, startling and awe-inspiring, – something at which the ordinary mind would revolt, then shrink down cowering! Decidedly this was an occasion on which the culprit must be made a genuine "example;" and as he paced the garden path, the brain of No-Kami was much exercised to find some awful sentence worthy of his reputation and his name.

His heart was so hardened by schemes of revenge that the scene around was powerless to calm his ruffled soul; and yet his villa without Kiŷoto, known as the Golden House (it exists to this day), was a spot where loving nature had freely given of her best.

On the plain between the city and the mountains is a wood, some three miles square, wherein branching umbrella pines and lofty cryptomerias and black-pointed cypresses are mingled in calculated confusion with the ensanguined foliage of the maple, and a luxuriant shrub covered with yellow blossoms, which has a scent resembling that of the apricot. The underbrush being carefully removed, the feet of the trees stand clear, rising from a tumbled surface of rich moss and rock and knoll, through which meander crystal streams shaded by grass and ferns. In a secluded portion of the wood is a large oblong pond, half-covered with dense reeds, and full offish and tortoises. In this, between the reed-beds, is mirrored a fairy cot-very small, as suitable for fairies-with the usual heavy roof and posts, and with windows inlaid with oyster shell. The peculiarity of the villa, at the time which occupies us, was that inside and out it was entirely gilt, which, against the sombre green background, in the limpid atmosphere, gave it the aspect of an enchanted dwelling. The rooms were of the smallest, and as naked and uncomfortable as Japanese rooms always are; and yet, in miniature, there was naught neglected. There was the porter's lodge, wherein lounged the armed retainers, and where upright, clean, and ready were the three formidable instruments designed to entangle, throw down, and pin a quarrelsome or unwelcome visitor. Stout quarter staves were also ready wherewith to belabour a struggling wight. There were bows and arrows in plenty, while in a row hung wooden tickets inscribed with the names of the soldiers in residence, which, were handed to the keeper of the gate, in token of absence, as the men passed out. In one corner was a bath-a mere rude tub-wherein, after the Daimio had bathed, others might be allowed to plunge; while further on, in the tokonoma, or recess of honour, were ranged in glittering state, ready always for use, the armour of my lord-his cuirass and greaves, helmet, chainmail, and swords.

As he paced up and down under shadow of the trees, No-Kami had an inspiration; and summoning his favourite samurai, he bade him produce the prisoner. With arms crossed on his broad chest, and a mien of sullen defiance, Koshiu emerged, and having approached, stared hard into his oppressor's eyes with such undaunted boldness that Hojo felt almost sorry. It was a pity to have to annihilate so bold a varlet; and yet the independent ways of these same bold varlets are pestilent, – dangerous to the lords who are set over them.

"What hast thou to say-what excuse to make?" demanded the imperious No-Kami.

"The performance of duty calls for no excuse," replied the bluff farmer.

"Duty!"

"Yes, duty, – to myself, to my fellow-sufferers, to the sublime Mikado, who, unless told, knows naught-for he dwells apart-of the wicked such as thee."

"By Buddha's crown, but thou art mad! instead of suing for mercy, aggravating thy offence."

"The Hojos never knew mercy-thou least of all-and I expect none."

"Will none make a lid for this rascal?" cried the Daimio, his small stock of patience ebbing. Then, seeing half a score of bright blades flashing in the sun, he waved them back into their scabbards. "Nay, nay," he grumbled; "sully not your steel."

"The Hojos were ever bad," observed Koshiu, without blenching. "Thou and thy brother are the worst."

"Sampei!" exclaimed No-Kami, in surprise. "Why he is half of thy caste himself, and is adored by the populace. What evil hath he done to thee?"

"He robbed me of my eldest child, whom I held dear. She has vanished, seduced by him."

No-Kami laughed long and loud, that very ugly laugh.

"So, so. The General is sly, and keeps his counsel, and hath done thee and thine far too much honour, ingrate! See, here he comes to answer for himself."

It was indeed Sampei, who, in extreme haste and heat, was crashing through the ferns. How unfortunate that the Emperor should not have detained him ten minutes longer. He would have expostulated with his brother then and there, in the Imperial presence, – have entreated the Fountain of Honour not to give up the captive. For in Hojo's greedy desire to obtain possession of him there was lurking something sinister. No-Kami's temper was so warm. For his sake, and the name they both bore, he must be prevented from going to extremities. Thanks to the gods, he was in time, for there the man stood, unharmed as yet. Ere he reached the spot where the two were standing, with retainers grouped in a circle, Sampei cried out, in his strong voice, -

"No-Kami, my brother, give me this man's life!"

"Again," laughed No-Kami. "What a glutton for the lives of prisoners. Not this one; no, his is a special case; but I'll give thee his little wanton."

"What wanton?" And then of a sudden the young soldier remembered his mother's news which had so startled him. This was the father of the maid whose heart he had unconsciously captured, and whose parent had five years ago denied to him his doors. It was with a whimsical smile that he shrugged his shoulders, and said, – "Miné' is no wanton that I know of. She is as pure for me as Fugi, the holy and snow-capped mountain."

"Liar!" shouted Koshiu. "What have Hojos to do with truth?"

Whereupon, with a low growl, the retainers drew their dirks and pressed close round.

Sampei grew a shade paler, but, controlling himself, quietly said, -

"Let be, men! Sheathe your blades! The man labours under a mistake, and will know better by-and-by. Grant me his life, my brother!"

"Why, of what parentage art thou?" exclaimed No-Kami, with a gesture of scorn. "He dubbed thee liar! Well, well! A drop of low peasant blood mingled with the best envenoms the entire stream. Yet am I ashamed, that thou, who art said to have done deeds of exceeding prowess, should tamely accept such insolence! And yet-and yet! I see now that I was wrong, precipitate. So mean a target is not worth your arrows. Fear not, my sober brother, I will myself avenge thee. Stand forth thou, and hear thy sentence. Whereas thou-audacious and stiff-necked-hast set thyself up as a champion and head of the villagers; and whereas thou hast dared to make light of me, thy feudal lord, by petitioning the Emperor directly; and whereas thou hast been guilty of conspiracy-three heinous crimes-it is decreed that thou shalt be taken in chains to Tsu, in a litter covered with a net of shame, and there suffer death by crucifixion. Thy wife will suffer likewise. Thy children shall merely be beheaded. The girl-what is her name? Miné-alone shall live, since I have bestowed her as a boon upon my brother."

The samurai knelt down and rested their foreheads on the grass, clasping their hands in token of admiration and respect; Sampei covered his glowing face with quivering fingers; the farmer turned ashen grey. A thunderbolt hurled down to annihilate a family. For himself he cared not: his life he had known was forfeit. But wife and innocent babes! Gennosuké, the sturdy little lad; and pretty Sohei, and Kihachi, who could barely toddle! The unexpected blow was paralysing-stupefying with overwhelming sweep; and No-Kami, who saw with delight that the bolt went home, motioned for the condemned to be removed. Sampei felt stunned, – torn between horror, and the instinct of blind loyalty to his chief, his creed-the creed in which he had carefully been nurtured. The innocent and the guilty involved in one common doom. It was horrible-unjust! Less vindictive by-and-by, the Daimio would repent him of his severity. Sampei saw clearly that the man must go. That could not be helped: he had brought on himself his punishment. But the wife and children! Sampei had hurried hither to endeavour to rescue the man, and on behalf of the innocent had not found a word of protest. Thank goodness that, owing to a mistake, Miné at least was safe. As to the wife and children, he and O'Tei must combine ere the sentence was carried out, and make a strenuous effort. There was no help to be looked for from the weak Mikado. What a pity that he was such a feeble creature! But then, had he been more formidable, he would have shared the fate of the others long ago. The Hojo looked so surly, that Sampei felt the moment unpropitious for remonstrance. Incensed as my lord now was, prayers would but aggravate him further. Sampei seemed, therefore, to acquiesce in the decision of the Daimio, and turned to another topic.

"A new eye sees things," he remarked, as they strolled under the trees, "which escape the ken of him to whom surrounding objects are familiar. Powerful as you are, swaying with a nod affairs of state, you strike me as less secure than was our father."

"He governed, as was necessary, with an iron hand, and so do I," retorted No-Kami.

"His was not so wet with blood," suggested the other gently.

"Can this be indeed the successful soldier?" asked the Daimio, stopping in amaze. "More like that puling wife of mine. A pity you did not wed her!"

Sampei started and winced. Could his brother guess. There was no trace of suspicion on his visage. His secret was safe. It was only a stray shot.

"The daimios," he observed quietly, "hate you, and they are treacherous."

"The daimios always hate him who is in power," replied the other with composure, "and burn to oust him. And people say that all Japanese are treacherous. They must be curbed by fear. Hence my severity just now. Nay, do not speak or waste your breath and anger me. On that my mind is fixed. I was too mild and compassionate with those elders, and look on the result! A stupid blunder, due to over-kindliness. The new-born arrogance of those tillers of the soil must be sternly checked. Clemency would be construed into a sign of weakness. He who rules with the sword must not be afraid to use it."

"I would warn you to mistrust Nara," observed Sampei, after a pause of thought; "he does not wish you well."

"Nara!" echoed the Daimio. "He who our astute father selected as my special counsellor! You are too suspicious. For Nara I have nothing but contempt-for him as for his counsel. He assumes sapient airs, and beneath them is a coward and a fool. Sometimes, in sport, I press down my heel on him, and he affords no sport, for he does not even writhe. Since you are a man of valour-the hero of the hour, though I vow you are more like a girl-furbish up your arms, and drill your cohorts, and leave policy to me. Drill your troops for my protection, most doughty of Hojos. As for statecraft, believe me, meddle not with a complicated tangle which you have not the skill to unravel. Your arm is more exercised than mine, but of heads, mine is the better."

CHAPTER VIII.
DESTINY IS BUSY

When the slow procession of armed men with a guarded litter in its midst was discerned approaching Tsu, great was the curiosity excited, for though none spoke of him, the absent farmer, devoted to a forlorn hope, was uppermost in the minds of all. A vague report gained ground that he had actually been permitted to see the face of the Sublime One, who, as just as he was holy, had listened to the tale of wrong. The stricken people, accustomed to adversity, were dazed by the gleam of fortune. Buddha had hearkened at last unto their groaning, had pitied their misery! The Hojo was not so bad after all, for the extra weight of taxes would doubtless be removed; the elders had returned forgiven; Koshiu was coming in triumph to his home, where a fitting reception should be accorded him. The listless men rose up upon their feet, the hammer and the gong resounded once again, amid blessings on the name of Koshiu.

The only one who was not joyous was Kennui, the farmer's faithful wife. She had heard so much from her spouse about the wickedness of the Hojos, that unconsciously she echoed his words, shaking her head as she muttered, "The Hojos know not mercy!" As the approaching procession became clearer to the view, defiling with clank of iron down the street, she gave a wild shriek, and fell swooning; for in the litter, under the fatal net, she had recognised the grizzled head and burly shoulders of him she loved best on earth. Awe-stricken, fearing they knew not what, the town turned out en masse and silently followed the procession, until, crossing the bridge that led over the outer moat of the castle, the ponderous doors closed upon it and the prisoner. For, strange and incomprehensible as it appeared, there was no doubt that Koshiu was a prisoner. The net and chains, and scowling escort told as much. Why? Was the report a false one? Had he not succeeded in communicating with the Sublime One? Sure he who was the Fount of Honour had not spurned the humble prayer! If he had been gracious, why was the victim brought to his home with sinister pomp and circumstance? While the crowd in scattered knots were discussing the enigma, the gates opened again, a band of samurai rushed forth, and presently returned with-wonder of wonders! – Kennui and her little children, who, driven at point of spear, like the farmer vanished.

Curiosity and impatience were getting the better of alarm, and some of the elders were about to cross the bridge, and knocking, make inquiries, when again the door swung upon its hinges, a man posted up a paper, and the gate was again shut to. A thrill of horror and consternation shivered over the crowd, as some one, mounting on a riding block, read aloud the proclamation. Crucifixion for the patriot and his innocent wife-the annihilation of his family and name! The injustice and brutality of such a sweeping sentence cried aloud to Heaven. Japan should ring with it. Come what might, the elders would remonstrate, – would lift up their voices in supreme protest against the iniquity of the cold-blooded tyrant.

The head men of the town and surrounding villages assembled, one hundred and thirty in number, and drew up an appeal, affixing thereto their seals, and Rokubei and Zembei, whose consciences smote them somewhat, travelled with it themselves to Kiŷoto. There the streets were in commotion, business was put aside, and men sat on the mats in groups discussing the darkening future. In whispers, with furtive glances over the shoulder, they murmured that there must be an end of it; anything was preferable as a change to such a life as No-Kami prepared for the people. Submission was making matters worse instead of better. Letters must be sent to the surrounding provinces. They must shake off sloth, and rise as one to free themselves and their Mikado.

Sampei, riding to the Golden House, told his brother of the hubbub. As he heard, the brow of the despot darkened; his eyeballs became bloodshot, like those of the demon Razetsu, as in obstinate fume he gnashed his teeth.

"What?" he cried. "Oh, girl in man's attire, I have borne too long with your puling! You dare to come hither, and take the part of the scum against me, your feudal lord! A shivering coward, who calls himself a soldier! Not a word more, or, despite the army at your back, I'll have you seized and scourged, and your head flung to the jackals."

Hot words rose in Sampei's throat, but the mournful face of his pale love rose before him, and he choked them down. His brother was distraught with passion, – knew not what he said. His feudal lord! Yes, that much was true. If danger was brewing, his place was by the side of his brother, to save him, if might be, from the consequences of the wickedness instilled by demons; if not, to assist him in his death.

The silence and sullen submission of the young General irritated the Daimio to frenzy. He cursed and growled like some savage animal, became the more furious from the conviction that in this matter he had been precipitate and wrong, – had been guilty of a mistake in state-craft, – of over-harshness. And yet it would never do to give to the scum the victory-to the low mechanics, and mean, unarmed artificers, who were assuming a threatening attitude. What would the other daimios say, who were eagerly watching the next move, if the ruler were again to give way, – to succumb like a woman before the outcry of a few rustics? The prestige of the Hojos would be gone for ever, and the bearer of the name would be sucked under and drowned by the torrent which would assuredly break loose. Give way! That, by the crown of Buddha, he swore he never would; and yet, perceiving too late the danger, in his heart he longed for a compromise. Hearing that Rokubei and Zembei, venerable elders, had dared to come pestering, and that a deputation of priests, headed by the bonzes of Tsu, awaited his pleasure, he smothered his rage, and bade Sampei admit them. He even deigned to summon his father's friend, and solicit counsel, placing the case before him.

Concealing his exultation under an air of sympathy, Nara arrived with promptitude, and, true to his tactics, gave advice which was calculated to undo his enemy.

"The peril is extreme," he said, "so I will speak plainly. 'Tis easier to raise a storm than quell it."

"If you are here to talk platitudes, begone," interrupted No-Kami.

"Be patient, my almost son, and attend," the malicious Daimio responded, with inward laughter. Like a bear in the toils his foe was caught, and it should be no fault of his if he became not more closely enmeshed. "You are right in this," he continued. "It will not do to lower the proud standard of the Hojos before the rabble; and yet you must provide them with a sop. Let the sentence stand. What is decreed should be irrevocable; but grant the boon in the memorial. Remove the obnoxious taxes. So will you seem clement, as well as stern and strong. They will fear you more than ever, while compelled to praise your bounty."

The advice jumped with No-Kami's inclination The more he considered it, the more crafty it appeared; but, true to his principle of blood-letting and tyrannising over the weak, he slightly improved on it. He would pretend to have known nothing of these taxes, and, as an example, would bring to condign punishment the bailiffs and tax-gatherers who had so harshly oppressed his vassals.

A master-stroke worthy of his sapient father this. A touch of genius. He accordingly harangued the deputations; declared his surprise as well as sympathy and love with such assurance that they scarce could believe their ears. The sentence, if somewhat harsh, must stand, he said, for 'twas a grievous crime in a vassal to hold up to obloquy his feudal lord. The property of the offending farmer should, however, not all be confiscated, but a part would be handed over to the girl Miné, who was spared, thanks to his brother's pleading. He assured his amazed listeners that he grieved over the rapacity of his officers-of whom he would make an example-in that they had invented new imposts on their own account, to the detriment of their lord's repute. He was sorry that the full details of the case had not reached him before. The town councillors of Tsu would be dismissed from their posts. Four district governors and three bailiffs would be banished to the northern island. The chief bailiff of Tsu and one particularly-sinful officer would be invited to perform harakiri. The objectionable taxes were abolished.

With this, while his audience stood aghast and dumb, my lord waved his fan with courteous condescension, in token of dismissal, and retired, flattering himself that he had got extremely well out of rather an awkward hobble.

The news which the deputations brought back with them to Tsu was received with mixed feelings. It was sad that the farmer's family must perish, but Koshiu would know that they had not died in vain. For the public good he and his were made a sacrifice. Many litanies should be chanted in the temples; the martyr should be canonised, enrolled on the list of saints.

One who was inconsolable was Miné. Spurned by him at whose feet she had cast herself-for Sampei had never deigned to inquire after her-she was compelled to admit that her father was right in his estimate of the reigning family. If he whom she elected to worship as a hero had not been as cruel as his brother, he would not stand by-he, a powerful general in command of many soldiers, while so wicked a sentence was promulgated. Father, mother, brothers-all. And she had loved this man! Distracted, she rushed to the castle, and braving the obscene jests of the samurai, implored to be admitted to her parents. She had done wrong, and must die heartbroken if deprived of their forgiveness.

A soldier, softened by the maiden's anguish, carried her entreaty, and returned with the message that her father refused to see her. She who was the chattel of a Hojo was no child of his, he had declared. Three beloved sons were his, but no daughter. Miné battered with weak hands upon the closing door. Her father had judged too harshly, for-alas! to confess such infamy-the Hojo had repulsed her. She was not his mistress, – had never even seen him since he sallied forth to war. The samurai laughed loud at the confession, and gibed at the hapless maid, bandying foul pleasantries. A likely story. Since, owing to the General's intervention, she was to have the property, she would doubtless find some one to pick up that which my lord Sampei had tossed into the mire. How much would she be worth? Would she set herself up to auction? By-and-by she could purchase for herself a husband, if not now a messenger. Her father declined to see her, so if yet she had a shred of shame left she had best depart, and quickly. If not, the soldiery would take her in, and for their own delectation keep her there. In terror she sped away, nor stopped till she reached the temple; and when in the gloaming the spectral line of nuns and Abbess entered for the evening prayer, Masago lifted the exhausted and fainting girl, and pressing cold lips upon her brow, bade her take rest and comfort. Henceforth she was theirs and Buddha's.

To show that, although clement, he was not to be intimidated, No-Kami resolved to make of the prospective execution a wholesome precedent, and to that end journeyed to Tsu in person. He was determined that the spectacle should abide in the minds of those who were privileged to witness it, as an ineffaceable lesson and an awful memory. It should take place within the castle boundaries, he decreed, in the presence of the Daimio and his suite, in gala robes, and all and sundry were invited to attend this new and engaging form of public festival.

As the fatal day approached, the fiery temper of the despot was severely tried, and grew hotter under the trial; for although the truculent retinue applauded, and looked forward with glee to a rare frolic, there was hanging over the land a shadow that might be felt.

Men spoke together in isolated knots, scudding away like hares if the gallop of my lord's escort was heard returning from the chase. This showed a wholesome and gratifying fear; but there were some who took no pains to cloke their insolence. The friends of the tax-gatherers and others who had been condemned, raised an outcry, vowing that they had obeyed to the letter their lord's behest, and that 'twas hard to suffer for being only too faithfully obedient. No-Kami increased the number of his personal attendants, daring no longer to go forth alone, lest haply some wailing relative should cling to his stirrup, and decline to be beaten off. Even behind the bristling defences of the castle he was not secure. Masago and her nuns arrived in solemn procession at the gate, and the soldiers, hardened though they were, were afraid to refuse them entrance. The austere Abbess was not to be browbeaten. Calm and cold, with inflexible mien she looked No-Kami in the eyes, and in presence of his warriors, in the name of her dead lord his father, dared him to fulfil his purpose. Solemnly she warned him of divine rancour. She had had a dream, and, as all the world knows, the soul during sleep is in active communication with the departed. Even now, at the eleventh hour, she urged that there was still time to avert the vengeance of the gods. The growing anger of Buddha might be appeased by pilgrimage and prayer, self-humbling, and precious gifts.

But Masago might as well have preached to the lotuses. Her speech was met with uneasy ribaldry, and smouldering ire.

"Bah! Threats from a troop of women! A made-up ghost to affright children with. Ye are hungry for the good things of this world," snarled the Daimio, "like all the priesthood. Be off! I care not for nuns or bonzes, self-appointed messengers from Heaven. Chatterers, get you gone while ye have time, or despite your garb your bodies shall feel the whip."

With that he bade the doorkeepers open wide the gate, that his guards might drive forth the embassage.

The unfortunate chatelaine, although none of the castle denizens cared to know it, was the one who was most hardly stricken by her husband's culminating sin. When the sad procession arrived with in its midst the patriot, she was boating outside the walls, deftly guiding her shallop with a slender pole through the luxuriant floating greenery. The elders having been spared at her written request, the horizon seemed less black. This was a first step towards the reclaiming of No-Kami-by-and-by, little by little, she would by tact and persistent effort regain over him the influence which at first she had too quickly abdicated. As she pondered, she blamed herself for lack of patient perseverance.

What was her own petty pride to the people's good? She had misjudged No-Kami, for on receipt of her letter he had given way at once. So he would again, and yet again, till drawn out of himself by tenderness, he would cast aside his wicked self like a foul garment, and live a cleanly life. Then she fell a-weaving of plans for assuaging the misery of her people, and all at once there fell the thunderbolt, and her new calm was rudely broken.

This horror was worse than all. Retiring to her bower, and dismissing her maidens, she cast herself upon the floor, and, numbed by despair, remained inanimate for hours. Had the gods no pity for such frail things as she? The contemplation of her husband, of the man who could deliberately plan and execute so vile an atrocity as this, caused her flesh to creep, her soul to shudder. He proposed, moreover, to accomplish the dreadful deed here, within the precincts of her house. The smell of the blood would never fade, its stain might never be effaced; and she was doomed to endure its constant presence for long years, unless the gods were clement. Some rail at the brief span of life. To some it seems too short, to others interminable. How earnestly, lying prone, did O'Tei entreat release. A long vista of grim dreadful years. No, at bay, she would revolt against the nightmare, would leap into the waves, and make an end of it. Since men may relieve themselves with the dirk of a too heavy existence, might not women seek relief in the embrace of the blessed sea?

He was coming here soon, her husband, to superintend the shocking details. He would touch, perhaps clasp her in his arms. Oh, no! And yet, why not? Clutched by him, pressed to the hard heart of the monster, inhaling the poison of his breath, she must surely wither; and if her soul were freed, what signified the horror of the means?

Sinking into a condition of dull lethargy, she went forth no more, but brooded in the quiet of her chamber, from which she could see the hill crowned by the temple groves. Dim and distant, like the roar in a sea-shell, she heard the noise of arrival, the neighing of steeds, and clank of iron, the braying of hoarse throats, the shouts and laughter at carousal. With sick apprehension she awaited the dreaded footsteps which soon must cross the threshold. But time went on and it came not, and she thanked the gods for that. He had inquired for her, the maidens said, and they had replied that their lady was ill. He had said no more, and had seemed satisfied. Truth to tell, he was as much relieved as she at the postponement of a meeting. For, worried and annoyed by the abominable behaviour of the scum, he was in no mood for whining, and instinct whispered that on such an occasion as the forthcoming festival the degenerate O'Tei would whine. When it was past and over, she would know better than to whimper, since what is done is done; and once resolved, no whining of silly women-folk should turn him from his purpose. Whilst dreading the creak of one footfall, she listened wistfully for another. Where was Sampei, her childhood's friend? Sure, he would sympathise, for his kind heart would tell him of the direful condition of his sister. Had he, disgusted with his brother, deserted him? It was likely; and yet not so, for Sampei-who should know better than she? – was loyal and true. He had arrived with my lord; the maidens had seen and admired him, and had grieved to perceive that he was dejected, the noble young hero. How strange then that he should not visit his old playmate.

Alack! Sampei avoided O'Tei as diligently as did No-Kami. What could he say to her that would not increase her sorrow? Fully appreciating her highly-wrought and reserved and sensitive nature, he knew too well what she must be suffering; and the sight of her tears, since he might not dry them, would cut him like a sword-thrust. Moreover, the seed his mother had prudently sown had taken deep root in his light soil, by reason of Miné's foolishness. On every account it was well to avoid personal contact with O'Tei. Without being conceited, the fact was patent that if one woman fell in love with him without encouragement, another might. In his ordinary frame of mind, he would cheerfully have said, "The more the better," and have basked with joy in the sunshine of unlimited loveliness. But he knew now that he adored O'Tei with an affection so pure and deep that there was no selfishness in it, – that, rather than cause her a pang, he would himself make any sacrifice. Her heart, he knew, was empty. As the Abbess had hinted, it was not at all impossible that if tempted she might grow to love her brother-in-law in unbrotherly fashion; and then, what pain to her, to him, to all? For once the young soldier would be prudent. Near, but unseen, he would shield his beloved as much as possible, – commune with her as little as might be, – come forward only in emergency.

With regard to No-Kami, he grew grievously perplexed, marvelling sometimes whether his brother was sane. The practice of cruelty upon the weak, for the enjoyment thereof, was something so foreign to his own open character that he could not comprehend the motives which moved the Daimio, nor his fits of frenzy when thwarted. Once, since their arrival at Tsu, he had remonstrated fearlessly with his chief, who had thereupon threatened to dismiss him into banishment. For the sake of the chatelaine, in the quickly-clouding future, this must not be. So Sampei, at his wits' end, like a dutiful son, climbed the temple stairs and unlocked the secrets of his heart before the shrewd ken of the Abbess. Masago surveyed him anxiously, then unaccustomed tears for a moment dimmed her vision as she gave praise to the gods in that she had been given such a son. Truth and trust looked from out his eyes. The noble fellow. Placing her firm white hand upon his shoulder, she kissed his brow.

"The situation is dark," she said; "the skein is tangled. The gods have marked down for destruction my lord of Tsu. That much is clear to me. Blindfold he marches to the edge of the abyss. I am a weak, purblind woman groping in the dark, unable to give counsel in so difficult a strait. My voice has been raised in vain: he thrust us forth like dogs. I will pray. Maybe that through prayer and vigil I may learn to know; and when I know, then will I tell thee, child. Peradventure divine wrath may yet, by diligent pleading, be turned aside. The farmer and his family must perish, thou a dumb spectator. That much cannot be helped. Be patient. Wait. I will prostrate myself before the altar, that the veil of the future may be rent."

One morning a lull of unaccustomed quietude informed O'Tei that my lord and all his following had gone scouring over the plain, and her maids, seeing her listless and sad-eyed, implored their mistress to mount to the top of the tower, and breathe the fresher air. From the upper gallery, shaded by the huge copper roof, the weary recluse gazed over the flat towards the twin hills with an intense longing. Since my lord's coming, she had not visited her summer-house, for she could not bear the sight of the mourning which she knew overhung the town. She yearned to steal forth now and gaze on the lovely view, with its sequestered temple, and placid land-locked waters, and fishers, and sunny islets. Alas! all labour was abandoned. The fishers were too wretched to pursue their avocation. Their boats were drawn up upon the beach untenanted. She could see them, a white fringe upon the yellow. Then, as her eye moved homeward, she started, and cried aloud, and wrung her hands, for down below in the courtyard rose, gaunt and terrible, the symbols of oppression. In a corner of the space within the outer moat stood ready a pair of crosses. The preparations were made then? – the consummation of the tragedy was imminent; and she, cowering and cowardly, had never attempted to stem the new tide of the Daimio's anger. A tacit connivance at this villainy!

Shaking herself as from the drowsy clog of sleep, she swiftly descended the stair with head erect, distended eye, and face as grey as ashes, and, to the surprise of the sentinels, crossed the first drawbridge as one in a trance, and made for the place of execution.

It occupied an extreme corner, far from the huts of the soldiers, and was masked from the path in common use by a belt of trees, concerning which there were fearsome legends. So many terrible events had taken place beneath their shade that they were said to be tenanted by souls of criminals, – to groan at times, and ooze with gore, and be accursed. To the Asiatic peasant all streams and woods are peopled with visionary forms, – are the homes of demons or of angels. It was well known that a sacrilegious cutter had striven once to fell one of these gnarled trunks, and had been blasted as if by lightning. It was an equally established fact that their vicinity impelled to suicide, for many men had, apparently without reason, hung themselves upon their branches, fascinated to self-destruction by some dread and secret spell.

O'Tei passed under their shade, and, shivering, recalled the legend, for though there seemed no wind, they swayed and creaked, spreading gaunt arms over her head, with trails of grey-green spindles, like uncanny mildewed hair. Why she had come she knew not-it was in obedience to no volition of her own. Her heart and temples were throbbing wildly. Within her swimming brain there was room for but one idea. The web of a terrible fate was being spun with ruthless fingers around my lord and her to choke them both. Was she to be permitted again to intervene between him and his victims? – or, to tear the meshes which encircled them, were they destined to writhe in vain? Advocate of mercy, how sweet a privilege! What could she do? Had she the courage to face that sin-stained man? Irresolute and trembling, she stood staring at the crosses, marking their shadows as they lengthened, till, with a gasp and sob, she heard the tread of horses, accompanied by shouts and laughter.

He had returned from the chase-the tyrant-and it was well that she was here. She would try not to fear him, – strive hard to do her duty. They must meet now, and, summoning her puny strength, she would endeavour to push him from the precipice.

The cavalcade swept past in a cloud of dust-a brilliant, uproarious company-and clattered across the moat. Two riders were following a little behind the rest, when one, catching sight of a familiar drapery among the trees, pulled back his horse upon its haunches.

"The lady O'Tei," he exclaimed, "beneath that baleful canopy!"

And straightway Sampei dismounted, and held the stirrup for his brother.

And thus they met again, those three, on this fateful day for all-my lord in an evil mood, for even to him there was something oppressive in the air. A pall, as of the shadow of death, hung murky over the land.

With trembling, blue lips, more like a spectre than a woman, O'Tei awaited my lord's approach, and turning, flung herself upon her knees, clinging about his feet.

No-Kami glared down in surprised dudgeon, while the soul of Sampei was thrilled with pity to perceive how wan she looked.

"My lord!" she murmured low, with fluttering heart, "a boon. Oh! spare them-for my sake-for your own-spare them-spare them-spare them! Give me at least the lives of the woman and her babes. If the man must suffer, be it so. You see that for him I say no word, not one-the gods forgive me! For his act he knew and weighed the penalty. But those innocents are not to perish. Say 'twas but a pleasantry, and I will kiss your feet, and bless you."

The visage of No-Kami grew purple as he glowered down upon his wife, and then, with grinding teeth, he glanced furtively around. There was no witness to the interview.

"It is well," he hissed, "that the company has gone before, and that I am spared humiliation in their eyes. Fie! what shameful folly's this? Can this grovelling thing, like a slave in the dust, be Hojo's wife, child of the Daimio of Nara? Nay! it is some mean Eta woman, pariah and outcast. Sampei, raise her up, and quickly, and let us both forget this spectacle. Arise!" he cried, spurning the prostrate figure with his foot. "Even among the Etas obedience is a wife's first duty."

Sampei stooped, and gently raising his distracted sister, supported her upon his breast, whilst the furious despot continued dryly, -

"Know that your existence is a blot on my name and your own. It is well that you have borne no children to perpetuate disgrace. If any of the bold samurai had seen you but now, what would they have thought of me? – of you? how could they respect their lady? Shame, shame! Pluck up a spirit-borrow one-and make at least pretence to assume a fitting dignity. The condemned are to die at sundown; no more on that score; even now the spectators are trooping hitherward. Go; tire your hair and don your gala robes. When all is ready, I will send for you."

"For me!" gasped O'Tei, turning a shade more white.

"As chatelaine of Tsu, your place is by my side," announced the Daimio sternly. "Be my will your law. Go now, and try not to degrade us."

His unhappy sister-in-law cast an imploring glance at Sampei, who stood with head bowed and sullen averted gaze. His blood was coursing through his veins at fevered speed. Patience, his mother had said, and wait. How could he wait and practise patience, seeing her he loved so outraged? Was she to be forced, by the whim of a madman, to give the sanction of her gracious presence to the deed which all deplored?

Masago, as usual, had been right. The Divine finger was in it, or why should the heiress of Nara, belying her own pride and the traditions of her haughty lineage, have selected the very means of interference which was most sure to offend her lord, and frustrate her own desires?

Had she, with imperious attitude and supercilious air, demanded the lives of the woman and her offspring, No-Kami might, touched by the proud beauty of her who was his bone, have, even so late as this, been surprised into some clemency. Sampei himself, to whom all she did was dear, felt a sharp twinge of mortification as, burning with sorrowful regret, he had quickly lifted her.

Both brothers, jealous of the name they bore, suffered in their tenderest point on seeing her thus prostrate. O'Tei must have been overcome with grief indeed ere she could have been guilty of so grave an error. But the Daimio's last demand must be rescinded. He must not insist upon her being present at the ceremony, or she might succumb under the ordeal.

Angry words of protest rose to the General's lips, but for her sake (remembering his mother's injunctions) he mastered them, and, as the trio moved slowly to the castle, strove to speak with a steady voice and dispassionate temperance.

"Far be it from me," he began, "to interfere between a wife and her spouse, or fatigue my lord with argument, yet would I suggest this much to my brother. Alas! see how weak she is-feeble in health. Nerves overstrung are not under complete control. But for this, the heiress of Nara would never have given just cause for a husband's displeasure by an act which we will all forget. Do not insist upon her witnessing the ceremony, for she has dwelt of late in such strict retirement that none will expect her presence."

A look at No-Kami cut him short. There was a lurid glitter in his glance that boded serious mischief if thwarted, threatening a new burst of frenzy. How difficult it was to be prudent, to steer without shipwreck in such troubled waters. Again for a space was the General torn between contending duties. Was he bound blindly to follow the head of his clan in his mad recklessness, lead where he would? Could he be excused were he to look on and refrain from action while the soul of his love was tortured? Was it not craven idly to mark her growing misery? Her true knight, forsooth! A knight unarmed, his spear a rotten bulrush. Was it destined that he might never afford her help? Better go away then, back to Corea, or farther still. Yet how would that be possible, she in this desperate quandary? Like a green flash of pallid light it broke upon him clearly, as he walked beside his chief, that the day might come when, the weapon in the grasp of a higher power, he would be compelled to smite his brother. With the thought came a grisly dread. Desperation drives men to acts for which a long life of penitence may not atone. Fate is fate, and man may not master it.

Sampei thought of his mother, and, like her, prayed to be enlightened. Was the doomed No-Kami indeed to fall by the treacherous hand of him who should be the first to help? And, ah! what a grievous punishment would follow, since by the very act of freeing her he would cut himself off from her for ever. A brother's widow and a brother's murderer. Wait, the Abbess had said. Wait! How long? Events rolling onward with the turbid tide, would it be possible to wait?

The toils of destiny were wrapped around the three, clasping them closer and more close, as, gloomy and tempest-tossed, they passed under the gateway of the castle.

CHAPTER IX.
THE EXECUTION

The Daimio was well served by his subordinates. Nothing was omitted which could add impressiveness to the coming rite. The two crosses stood facing the west, gaunt and forbidding, at a convenient distance one from the other, backed by the green trees, and around them was spread thick paper, to save the earth from pollution. It had been a knotty question with the chief samurai, who acted as master of the ceremonies, as to the exact shade of punctilio which it would be fitting to employ on the occasion. All the world knows that the most minute instructions were laid down in 1336 by Ashikaga for the guidance of those of upper or military class who were to assist either as principals or seconds at harakiri, or suicide by disembowelling. The exact hour, the place, the number of lights, of mats, of screens and hangings, bows and genuflections, according to the rank of the sufferer, were arranged by him in the form of a long code, and so complete and comprehensive were these instructions that no room was left for doubt as to the most trifling detail. But here was a case without precedent, for the sufferers were plebeians, too low and common to be worthy of the smallest candle or commonest mat, or, indeed, of anything whatever except an ignominious slaughter like swine. But then the Daimio had insisted that the spectators should be regaled with pomp and circumstance, – that the criminals should have the honour of being done to death within the castle precincts, and therefore the chief samurai was obliged to hold a council with his fellows for the fixing of this weighty matter.

In the first place, the farmer and his wife were of too mean a stock to be permitted to put an end to themselves, just as the children were too young to perform the act, even if accorded the privilege. No, they must be handed over to the Etas, members of the lowest class in Japan-people who dig graves and kill animals-social outcasts beyond the pale of society, filthy and degraded, who are never allowed to enter a house, or eat or drink or cook at any fire in company with decent persons. Being unworthy of mats or hangings, the device of the paper was an ingenious thought, for the blood of mere peasants must not defile the private ground of my lord, and yet the spirits of the departing must not be overcomforted by too much consideration. As the execution was to take place at the hour of the cock, or sundown, it would be necessary to have lights, but not too many, or of too grand a kind, for excessive illumination would be indecorous. Four tall bamboo poles, carrying lanterns of plain white, were placed at four corners, while behind a screen were concealed a lance, a dirk upon a tray, buckets to contain the heads, an incense burner, cloths, and a pail of water. In the centre of the space facing the crosses, thick mats were laid, covered with rich embroideries, for the accommodation of my lord and his party, behind which was to be arranged, standing in rows, his brilliant retinue in their most splendid and glittering array. Down the sides, behind a low barrier, were mats of a coarser kind for the town's-people, with fire boxes or hibachis, and bronze kettles and tea things, and cakes and sweetmeats on trays of gold lacquer, in order that none of his vassals might accuse his benignant lord of want of hospitality or lack of thought for their comfort.

It was a beautiful and still evening in autumn, with the opalescent sky of crystalline clearness, which so often in Japan gives us a hint of the infinite. The sun was just dipping behind the outer wall, flanked by its massive towers, tipping with gold the eddies of the brawling river which protected the side of the square opposite the crosses, when a flourish of conch shells announced that the time was come.

With a thunder of hoofs over the wooden drawbridge, first there defiled a troop of cavalry with tapering lances and pennons, in glistening black armour and housings, each helmet adorned with the badge of Hojo, the face of each horse covered by a gilded mask of frowning and horrific aspect. Solemnly the horsemen manœuvred, forming a hollow square of gold and sable; then at a signal the outer gates were opened, and with clatter of many clogs there poured in from the town a sea of men and women, old and young, with anxious pallid faces. The invitation had been accepted by all classes. Fishermen there were in short blue cotton shirts and tight gaiters, and mushroom hats roughly bedizened in colour with tigers or twisting dragons. Old dames and young rosy girls jostled and fought for places, for sure never had the oldest inhabitant been bidden to so strange a mummery. Artisans there were too, burly and bronzed, naked, save for a loin-cloth and loose jacket; and merchants and superior persons, in long crape kimonos, adorned with curious designs, bound round the waist with scarves of silk. The black phalanx looked down with scorn but half concealed, for never had so motley a rabblement been admitted within these walls, and many a timid wight glanced trembling at the swart fierce visages under shadow of the casques, wishing he had stayed away. There was one, however, conspicuous for gay attire and many hairpins, who, no whit abashed, looked saucily along the line, making loud remarks, with pointed finger, as if the motionless figures were statues. A very pretty little lady like a humming bird, with dancing eyes and silvery laugh, and hair tricked out and stiffened with pomade, who, by her gay dress, was a geisha or professional dancing-girl. All about her was small, but neat and natty and trim, from her tiny feet and lacquered clogs to her impudent little nose. It was plain that she was afraid of nothing, taking life lightly, resolved upon enjoying the day, however dark its setting; for, elbowing her way to the front, she commenced, with a comical assumption of haughtiness, to criticise the arrangements, as if all her short career had been passed in castles and palaces.

The chief samurai was uncertain how to act respecting her, for she presumed to mock at him, and mimic his rolling swagger and pompous stride, rating him the while for tardiness, – a lamentable lack of punctuality. Who was this forward wench? he asked, awaking from dumb amazement, who, respecting neither place nor persons, mumbled sweetmeats between cherry lips, and, tapping a garish fan, shouted for the performance to commence! It was O'Kikú some one said, a celebrated dancer and spoilt beauty from distant Kamakura, who was in the habit of walking upon hearts, of attaching herself to richest youths like a tarantula, and quickly sucking them dry. She was on a pilgrimage to the groves of Isé-for even frail and flighty young ladies have souls that require doctoring-but hearing of what was toward, and the temptation great, had gaily tossed aside her pilgrim robes of white, and postponed her journey and her prayers.

But now, even naughty and irrepressible O'Kikú was hushed to silence, for there was another flourish, and, stately and slow, with all the pomp of state, the procession of the Daimio marched across the bridge. Very handsome the two brothers looked as, in full dress, and wearing the courtly Naga-bakama (full long trousers of red silk), they moved with a lady between them-a lady who, by her exceeding stateliness and unusual pallor, riveted the attention of the geisha.

"Patrician to the finger ends," muttered the latter approvingly. "I have never seen so high-bred a lady-no, not even among the gorgeous court of the Shogun in distant Kamakura-as noble in bearing as her two supporters. Which is the Daimio, I wonder? The older one, of course."

The older one. Her heart-or what served as such-went straight out to him; and from her worldly point of view, in which inclination and interest seemed in unaccustomed fashion to mingle, she decided, as rustic Miné had done before her, that he, and he only, should be her master. The handsome stalwart fellow, bronzed and weather-worn, his brow crossed by a deep and honourable cicatrice! A typical soldier he, whom 'twould be a joy to love. The other one? Well, handsome too, but ill-tempered evidently; as rich in scowls as a tiger in stripes; a wild beast, whose taming might amuse. And yet toying with wild beasts is dangerous, for when they scratch they tear. Brothers apparently. The wife of which was the patrician lady? For a second the world-worn geisha felt the prick of a curious and new sensation. Could it be jealousy? If she were the wife of the soldier, she was a rival whom it would be necessary to fight and crush. Cold-almost inanimate; a doll-stupid probably-entirely wrapped, like so many of her station, in contemplation of the family tree. Pooh! an absurd rival; for sure no man could love an icicle. Were they newly married? This bridegroom with the scar was delectably attentive to his bride. How mawkish! And then the observant little woman noticed that the scowls of the younger brother were specially turned upon the icicle. Why was that? There was an air about him of discontented proprietorship. Suddenly she became aware of the richness of his attire as he took his place in the centre, amid the bows and genuflections of the spectators.

So the younger of the twain was the Daimio, and the icicle his wife. What a pity that it was not the elder. It was with a twinge of genuine regret that the geisha turned from the bronzed hero to examine the chief of the clan. A forbidding savage! Clearly he did not love the icicle. He was fancy free. Inclination and interest as usual did not mingle. Heigho! must we always throw over romance for the better filling of our pockets? An unsatisfactory world, in sooth, where things have such a provoking way of clashing. A good-looking aristocratic person this head of the clan, if cross.

"I did well to drop my foolish prayers; this is the moment for business," she inly murmured. "I shall have first to ensnare the chief, and his stalwart brother after."

Her line of action thus promptly and practically decided, the young woman prepared her batteries.

Even No-Kami, with much cause, as he told himself, for displeasure, could find little room for carping in the attitude of his consort, now frozen into compliance with his mandate. She had, as it were, gone out of herself, leaving a stiffened body, moved by automatic springs. Condemned to do awful penance, she walked mechanically, leaning on the arm of her brother, who glanced from time to time at her, with mixed satisfaction and surprise. He had dreaded lest, her task beyond her strength, she should quail and break down, object of derision to samurai; but no-the struggle was past-the blood of the Daimios of Nara asserted itself. Of what use was it for a girl to struggle against destiny? What must be, will be, despite our feeble protests. To beat soft palms against a wall is but to bruise and maim them. One who drowns, battles with futile strength among the waters, then drifts quiescent beyond the pale, power of resistance gone.

The watchful warriors smiled, relieved, behind their iron-mounted tans, as silently they dropped into their places. For once their chatelaine was as chill and disdainful and impassable as the chatelaine of Tsu should be.

No-Kami cast his eyes, gleaming tawny with malice satisfied, over the throng. He was well-pleased. As a pageant the affair was a distinct success, for, hemmed round by the swart square, his vassals were learning a lesson of fear that should stem their insolence in future.

The executioner and his aids stood ready on their lengthening shadows, chosen from among the Etas for their breadth of beam. Their athletic bodies stripped to the waist, dark as burnished bronze, tatooed in intricate designs, with loins girt up, and hair loosely knotted, and sandalled feet apart, they awaited the signal of their lord.

The Daimio raised his arm; the shells sent forth a blast, and at the warning all heads were turned, for there appeared from among the grey and ghostly trees the sad procession of the doomed.

First, with chains about their ankles, and wrists fast bound, came the unlucky officials who for too slavishly literal obedience were to serve as a sop to the people. A purr of applause, a drawing in of the breath, like the sibillation of the plashing wave, went round the throng, as the heads of the condemned were severed; for there is no denying that it is delicious to enjoy the discomfiture of foes. But this act of popular justice accomplished, there was a pause, and then the assemblage, changing its tone, sent up a protesting moan of tribulation, accompanied by tears; for, smiling, with head well poised and brawny shoulders bare, the patriot, who was one of themselves, advanced to martyrdom. By his side, in mien as brave as he, walked in her best kimono his wife, the hapless Kennui, leading in each hand a child, pathetically crowned with simple field-flowers. Ah me! How grievous a spectacle was this of innocence marching to the slaughter.

There was a rustle and ripple as of wind over a rice field. O'Tei alone of all appeared unmoved. But for the twitching of slightly-contracted brows, her delicate features might have been carven, as, peering into space and seeing nothing, she sat motionless with bloodless lips.

Even the fair and outrageously irreverent and saucy O'Kikú, who had made so merry, with that musical strong voice of hers, Over the rueful plight of the tax-gatherers, as to draw on herself the flattering attention of the Daimio, was obliged, at sight of the babes, to dash away one tiny crystal drop; but then remembering that weeping makes pink the nose, and that life at best is brief, she resumed the reins of composure. More, for she succeeded in emitting such a jocund and appropriate peal of laughter as disconcerted the mob and wrung for behoof of the stranger a gratified inclination from my lord. Who was this bewitching creature? he began to ask. As good-looking as sensible. The eyes of the pretty girl beyond the common barrier and those of the great man on the mat of honour met, and from beneath a silky curtain the former shot forth a languishing glance of modest and reluctant but uncontrollable admiration, which was answered by a brazen ogle.

O'Kikú blushed like a budding peony, which made her look more engaging than ever, and lowering her lids behind her fan, began seriously to congratulate herself. How clever she had been, adapting herself to circumstances, to postpone those tiresome prayers at Isé; for 'twas more and more evident that the great man cared nothing for the stony image by his side, and was susceptible to the blandishments of beauty. It was rather fortunate, too, that that other one with the scar upon his brow should be glumly engrossed in contemplating the heavens. Had she not, with a precision of judgment that was worthy of all praise, arranged that she would ensnare the great man first, and dally with the other afterwards? Even so well skilled a person as the geisha would have found it difficult to angle for both in the presence of one another. The Daimio caught and landed, fishing for the elder brother would be a delightful pastime. Yes. Business first and pleasure afterwards. Buddha is always on his lotus, calm and cross-legged, and to him, in matter of favours asked, all times are one, for is he not eternal? Whereas it must be evident to the smallest capacity that the great ones of the earth are not always accessible, but, within range, must be shot flying as they pass.

Her plans arranged with accuracy and speed, the wily damsel commenced such a series of arch manœuvres with eyes and fan as a long and varied experience had taught were deadly; a silent yet eloquent language, which pleasantly titillated the nerves of the first of her intended victims. When public opinion and your own conscience upbraid your act, it is consoling to be encouraged by a pair of lustrous orbs. Sympathy, always sweet, is doubly so when we secretly know that we are wrong. By contrast, O'Tei's recent behaviour now seemed doubly execrable to No-Kami. Her cold glance, even in the early days had betrayed a polite indifference, which gradually changed, as he remembered now with sullen ire, into an expression of scorn half veiled, varied with dread and horror. As he gazed on the dazzling geisha, his spirits rose to blytheness.

How whimsical are the arrangements of Nature! He could see now why his wife, despite her beauty, had always been repellent. She was tall and frigid, with an assumption of faultlessness which cannot but be disapproved by those who make no pretence to phœnixdom; whereas there, opposite, sent by the gods to comfort his loneliness, was a fairy vision replete with glowing perfections, accentuated by the piquancy of frailty, which he yearned to clasp in his arms. Sure so fragile an atomy would melt away in the fervour of a hot embrace? Yet no. The flesh was flesh-warm with life, deliciously solid and plump and peachen, if sylph-like in contour.

Thrilled with desire of possession, the pageant interested my lord no more save for the amusement it afforded to the stranger. Somewhat vexed and annoyed by the ill-timed gurgles of the scum (yet what can you expect of low people but vulgarity?), he was pleased to perceive, by engaging little pouts and shoulder-shrugs and entrancing nose-wrinklings, that the stranger from afar was with him. It was evident that she deemed the sentence just-his severity wise and opportune. Stealing a glance at the chill statue by his side, upon which the anxious gaze of his brother was fixed, he became much annoyed; for in every line of O'Tei's suffering face was imprinted remonstrance and despair. Sampei, too, the milksop, appeared quite as miserable. It was a fortunate chance indeed that had brought the geisha to the castle.

From afar there boomed across the flat a sweet but solemn sound that stirred the hearts of all; for was not the peal of the great bronze bell of Buddha a mystic friend close woven in the life of each? Every day its toll awoke the slumbering peasants for miles around, preaching with mellow voice a life of honest labour; and, ablutions over, each simple man and woman, with fervent face turned to the rising sun, clapped palms together, craving a blessing on their toil.

To the superstitious Japanese the bronze temple bell is a living entity. It breathes with their breath, joys with their joy, grieves with their sorrow. As wood and brook are peopled, so are the temple and groves; and the great bronze bell is the voice of the myriad spirits, messengers of Buddha's will. How exasperatingly pestilent, therefore, was it now of Masago to give to the festivity a mournful turn of warning by slowly beating the bell as if for some popular calamity.

A shudder passed over the crowd. Hark' What was that? The soughing of the wind? The twee-twee of the shrill cicada? No. A faint and distant chant, growing each moment louder; and, as he heard, the face of my lord grew purple and his brow black with rage, which he was vainly seeking to control. He, like the others, guessed the purport of the music, and his fingers mechanically sought his sword-hilt. That abominable Abbess, not to be daunted by recent contumely, was again coming to the castle with all her bonzes and her maidens to demand at least the lifeless bodies of those who were about to die. Nothing could be more inopportune, – better calculated to mar the pageant; for of what use were sweetmeats and fruit and the best tea as concomitants to a grim enjoyment made fascinating by wholesome terror, if the occasion were suddenly to be turned into one of open mourning? What was to be done? If 'twas but a bevy of priests, a few deft taps in tender places with the bamboo would send them squealing; but the voices were those of women, and even a tyrannical daimio will not gain in dignity by the scourging of a posse of girls. For an instant he breathed a deep curse upon all women-universal marplots; but, catching the glance of the stranger, he recanted. Even she found it difficult to combat her emotion. Her cheek had blanched, her lovely bosom heaved under the crape kimono; but being a damsel of strong will, gifted with a power of seeing ahead, she forced an arch flash from her eye, for the comfort of her new adorer. By a swift signal she bade him know that her sympathy was with him still. By instinct born of new affection, he seemed to read her thoughts. Abbesses are cross-grained, churlish hags, she seemed to say, – disappointed because youth has fled. Yet, in her heart, she could not but be aware that things were going badly, and that the effect produced by that gruesome festivity was far from the one intended. Well, so much the better, for her sympathy was rendered thereby more precious. Instead of accepting their harsh lesson with humble and meek duty, the fractious mob of artizans and mean persons, who should have been awed by mere admission within the castle, were presuming, with sighs and lamentations, openly to side with the convicted! With sobs and streaming cheeks the spectators leaned over the barriers, and, with low murmurs of "Cruel!" and "Pitiless!" threw their sweetmeats to the little ones.

Beyond the outer wall, glinting through embrasures in the masonry, the rapid river rushed red and golden, flushed by the sinking sun. Its glitter was reflected in the eyes of Koshiu, who, with a martyr's smile, hearkened to the swell of the dirge. How comforting it was! How good of Buddha, the silent and watchful, thus to have inspired his priestesses! The will of a wicked man could keep them beyond the moat, but their voices, preternaturally clear with words from beyond the grave, floated over bolts and barriers. 'Twas with exultation and glee, as of one heated with warm wine, that, drawing his burly form to its full height, Koshiu turned him to his wife as both were bound to their crosses.

"Cheer thee, dear Kennui!" he gaily laughed. "A spasm, and then happiness. It is given me to see, and I behold. Our poor transient lives are forfeit in this dim world of twilight, but our end is gained. The odious taxes are removed, and our brethren, not yet ripe for flitting, may rise upon their feet; for my lord is banned, the days of his oppression numbered. With deep humility and praise I see a miracle. In the next cycle-which is but a tiny step-we are rich and prosperous, ay and, oh wonder! reunited. Gennosuké will be reborn to us, and our little Sohei and dear Kihachi, in a clime where the Hojos are not."

As the chant pealed louder yet, the chief victim was wrapped in ecstasy, shared as it seemed by his faithful helpmeet, for with bright eyes fixed on him she forgot her children's suffering, wistfully awaiting their rebirth.

Not so the appalled audience, who, shivering with terror, watched the Etas at their work. Who may presume to gauge the designs of the Eternal? For his own mysterious ends-upright on his lotos-he was permitting this great wickedness; but whilst permitting, and lest mortals should lose their trust, and topple into unbelief, he deigned to raise a corner of the veil. 'Twas clear that the doomed farmer was big with prophecy. What words would next drop from his lips? And about the heads of the children too-the innocents-there gleamed a mystic radiance. When, to accompany their feudal leader on his passage of the river Sandzu, the privileged members of his bodyguard perform the rite of harakiri, 'tis the deliberate act of mature men, whose hands are steadied by faith unwavering. As such, it inspires respect and awe in which there is no fear. But to look on at ignorant and helpless infants butchered! oh, woeful sight! And, while the dread deed is being done, to hearken to the prophetic words of him who stands beside them on the brink. Well may the cheek blanch and the breast heave of those privileged to witness such a spectacle! Sure 'twas supported by the holy finger of the Unseen himself that Gennosuké assumed a manly dignity beyond his thirteen years as, stretching forth his head to the knife, he looked calmly up at the executioner. "Oh, father and mother," he simply said, "and little brothers, I go first, to wait for you, and will put forth my hand to help you across the river. All you who have come to see us die, farewell! and to you, sir, also a kind farewell. Hurt me as little as you may."

Even the headsman, a stalwart Eta, brutalised by his bleeding and long years of taunts and flouts, turned a glassy eye of appeal upon his lord, but seeing no mercy on his gloomy visage, was fain, unnerved and stricken to the heart, to do his revolting duty. A gleam through the still air, and straightway a piteous wail from the onlookers, in harmony with the distant dirge.

Then said the second lad, miraculously brave, – "I know not how to die, sir, and I beg you teach me." His blood was quickly swallowed by the greedy sand; and then 'twas the turn of the babe-the wee naked urchin with skin so berry-brown, who wist so little what was forward that, as he stretched his tiny fingers for a persimmon that was tossed to him, he was sent to rejoin his brethren.

Roused by the groan that was forced from many breasts, Kennui spoke, her eyes fixed steadily upon her husband. "Mourn not," she said, as one who beholds a vision. "How blessed are we! From the first you foresaw this fate. A little wrench-no more. Man lives but for a lifetime, his good name for many, and that is more precious than life!"

The voice of Kennui waxed faint, for, tight bound as she was, the spear of the Eta was more kindly than the Hojo; and it was only when he knew himself alone-all those he loved waiting on the further shore-that the farmer roused himself from musing.

Twisting his body towards my lord so far as his bonds permitted, he slowly wagged his head and laughed low and long. "Could I live here five hundred lives in pomp like thee," he said, "I would not, knowing that which will come after. Oh, cruel one! oh, pitiless! – steeped to the lips in crime. Fence thee with walls, and moats, and barriers of stone, my spirit shall burst them all to avenge thy deed this day! Hearken to my voice. Mark my red eyes. Waking and sleeping-in the din of battle-in thy secret chamber-they shall be with thee. When they fade, know that thy end is nigh. Thy time is brief. All-patient Buddha sickens at thee. Last of thy race. Thou and thine-all, all-shall perish miserably-thy name a horror for all time."

The voice of the martyr choked. The sable phalanx of grim warriors quaked and rustled in their armour like leaves before the coming storm. The Eta, scarce knowing what he did, beside himself with fear, plunged the lance into his side.

The head of the farmer drooped; his eyes filmed, then opened wide lurid, reflecting the crimson sunset. "See yonder river," he gasped, "and take a sign. 'Tis tinged with blood already, sucked from thy fortress stones. See how red it flows! A day shall come when it will lap those stones no more. Then shall thy house fall, a shapeless ruin. Cursed, thrice cursed, be the long line of Hojo! In cycles yet to come may they stumble and wander, led astray, hopeless, and blind, and never attain oblivion!"

The Daimio, with lightning in his glance, and terror in his heart, rose up, and, speechless with passion, stretched forth his hand. The trembling Eta again thrust in his weapon, and the voice of menace was hushed. But the sightless eyes still gazed at him, who was accursed as from out of the infinite, and the reflection from the river shone forth, cast back ensanguined, from them.

A panic fell on the spectators. The men, fearing they knew not what, grew pale; the women shrieked, and stuffed fingers into ears, or clung wildly one to another. The samurai, grouped behind their lord, placed hands on swords, irresolute; for there was no foe worthy of their steel. A regrettable dénouement. 'Twas the Eta's fault-the tardy caitiff! His life should pay the penalty. Then of a sudden there was a diversion. The lady O'Tei, who, statue-like and numb, had witnessed the scene as one who saw not, willowed forward with a moan, and fell on her face unconscious.

No-Kami looked around, his eyes bloodshot like the dead. Humiliation on humiliation. So intense was the depth of his impotent wrath, that his hands trembled, and his nerves were wrung with agony. What? He? Hojo No-Kami-tyrant of broad Japan, master of the Emperor himself-before whom all daimios and kugés and hatamotos were wont to bow, was to be bearded-openly insulted-by a low peasant fellow within the precincts of his castle, before his assembled vassals! The wretch was dead, worse luck, out of reach of further torment, bleeding from many spear-wounds; but ere he died he had covered his lord with ridicule. How different was the result of the pageant from that which had been proposed. The superstitious people clearly believed that the body hanging by its ropes was that of a martyred saint, who had spoken the words of Buddha; not of an insolent varlet who had perished with deserved ignominy. They believed the absurd threat about the river, and looked with awe for the accomplishment of the prophecy. The only dignified way out of the dilemma was by treating it with light contempt, turning it off as a sorry jest, with a peal of disdainful merriment. The attitude of Sampei was worthy of his stock. Involved with his brother in the curse, he had raised his brows in angry scorn, while his fingers moved towards his dirk. Then of a sudden, his manner had lamentably changed. With a sibillation of dismay, he had knelt over the swooning chatelaine, striving to call her to herself with gentle words of comfort. O'Tei! Ah, there was the worst point of all! By fainting thus inopportunely, she had accentuated the falseness of the position. That she (the chatelaine of Tsu) should cower under the anathema of a peasant. How different would have been the conduct of the bellicose Tomoyé. To swoon thus in public, was to betray unfitness for her rank, – to allow the scum to perceive that she believed in the curse, and its justice, – that she disapproved the fiat of my lord, – regretted his well-timed severity. Sampei was right when he pleaded for the too weak O'Tei. So scalding was the shame of the Daimio, that, but for the intervening figure of his brother, he would then and there have struck the craven chatelaine. And yet not so. His loathing and hatred for his unworthy partner was so intense, that contact even with her robe-hem would at this juncture have been most distasteful. Glancing about for consolation, his eyes met those of O'Kikú, and there shot into his heart a glow of solace which to its emptiness had been long unknown.

Circumstances were assisting the manœuvres of the cunning geisha more than she could have dared to hope. The helpless misery of No-Kami, as he looked down upon his wife, was a confirmation of her conjectures. A chicken-hearten rival, easily vanquished, this high-bred chatelaine would prove, since she would obtain no support from her spouse. The brother was unnecessarily affectionate. What did this portend? O'Kikú's smooth brow was wrinkled by a frown. Pooh! She had heard much of the General, whose name was Sampei-the name she learned from the crowd. He was good-natured and generous, no more. This was not the moment to dream of him, since the head of his clan was standing by in need of moral support.

O'Kikú had lived an eventful life, if a short one, and was not one to be alarmed by spectres. Taken aback for a moment, somewhat frightened by the scene, involved for a few seconds in the unreasoning panic of the mob, she had quickly regained aplomb.

Tapping her fan against the barrier with a peevish shrug of shapely shoulders, she demanded, in a chirrupping voice, as loud and clear as musical, to be instantly rescued from contamination.

"It serves me right," she cried, tossing her chin, "for abandoning the realm of fashion. Faugh! Was there ever anything so disgusting as these rustics? The country with its evil-smelling rice paddy and foul slush was fit for them, and they for it. What a ridiculous pother, to be sure, over one paltry man's impertinence! The ways of the coolies were nauseous. Thank the gods, she was unaccustomed to coolies. If some one would have the gallantry to remove her from their contact, she would skip into her kago, and return to Kamakura forthwith." Oh, intriguing and long-headed O'Kikú! Ah, if O'Tei had had presence of mind to accept the situation in this spirit! Could No-Kami ever lavish sufficient gratitude for so signal a service rendered in the nick of time?

The bewitching tourist had touched the right note, and saved the Daimio from embarrassment. With a smile of thanks, he bowed, and commanded an officer without delay to extricate the lady from the scum. With courteous apologies and well-turned compliments he descended from the dais, and, taking the stranger by the finger-tips, led her to the place of honour. Ignoring his wife, who, seemingly as lifeless as the farmer's family, was being gently borne away, under the tender surveillance of his brother, he was free to superintend the stranger's comfort, to see that the new-comer was provided with tea, in a cup of the best hirado, and plied with the choicest sweetmeats. A blush of gratified vanity served to add piquancy to her beauty, as, with an engaging air of bashfulness that went well with long lashes and sly glances, she seemed to deprecate attention.

"I was so sorry for you," she gently purred; "but 'tis the penalty of greatness to be misinterpreted."

Fanning herself with demure grace, she turned her pretty head aside to hearken to the words of her host, gazing the while with studied nonchalance at the proceedings of the Etas as they placed the heads in buckets, piled the bodies of the infants behind a convenient screen, did away with tokens of the sacrifice. The hollow square of dark-mailed men remained motionless till it should please their lord to move; but under many an iron vizard was a smile lurking, for the conduct of the saucy lady was approved by all, and the admiration of No-Kami no more than natural. Unlike the one who had been borne away, she was an honour to her sex, a vision of brightness and of courage, and gladly would one and all have hailed such as she for their mistress.

"You were cruel just now," whispered No-Kami; "though, after what has happened, 'twas your right."

"Cruel? Poor little I?" exclaimed the artless geisha. "Why, I never hurt so much as a buzzing mantis when it tumbled on my head, as the vexatious insects will! I cruel indeed!"

"You said you would depart forthwith; but you forgot that within these walls you are our prisoner."

"I was on my way to pray at Isé," remarked the demure damsel; "sure you would not balk so pious an intent?"

"That can wait-and must!" returned the Daimio. "Bad impressions must be effaced. You must not relate to the Shogun, on your return to Kamakura, how the lion of Tsu was bearded. For a few days, at least, you stay as our guest, or else our captive."

O'Kikú laughed a rippling laugh, as she considered within herself as to which was likely to be the captive.

"When a great lord commands," she murmured, "a poor weak girl obeys."

Exultant glee pervaded the bosom of the Daimio. The welcome new-comer should be his guest-his honoured guest-and the pusillanimous O'Tei should be taught manners by example. He was about to move towards the castle, conducting with due ceremony the lady thither, when, with a familiar fan-tap on the arm, she stayed his progress.

"You are so good and kind, – so generous, and so wickedly misinterpreted," she whispered hurriedly, "that I take courage, although a stranger, to crave a boon. Your object accomplished, 'tis the moment to show clemency, and disclaim the stigma of the tyrant. Those nuns still sing without, awaiting the bodies for interment. Let them be delivered up to them. The first favour I ever asked," she added gently, seeing the Daimio hesitate. "Believe me, 'twould be an act of policy, and stay farther clamour."

No-Kami looked down into the deep dark well of her eyes, from which he could see peeping his own pleased reflection. Why, what a treasure was this-a wise little counsellor! More than ever was he disgusted with the absent chatelaine, who could only implore, and writhe, and groan, and grovel on the ground in intervals of stony glaring. Practical, and shrewd, and plump, and purring was this fairy by his side. She should have her boon, and welcome, with many thanks for the suggestion.

The Daimio having been pleased to announce that, yielding to the intercession of his charming guest, Masago might be permitted to remove the corpses, he crossed the inner moat, followed by his brilliant train, while the grim samurai laughed behind their vizards, wondering how the ladies would agree.

CHAPTER X.
FOREBODINGS

It was with feelings strangely mingled that the concourse prepared to depart. For their good, the farmer had suffered martyrdom; himself and his family were swept like insects from the earth, but not from the grateful memories of the people. No sooner was the inner drawbridge raised behind the departing despot, than with one accord all meekly knelt while the Abbess issued orders. Her brow was more sombre than its wont, her jaw more firmly set, as the troubled elders related what had happened. She had prayed for light, but Buddha had vouchsafed no answer. What was this coil that was winding slowly but surely round the son of him who had been her husband? Ay, round her own son as well, the noble Sampei. It was under misapprehension that Koshiu had included him in his anathema, supposing him the seducer of his child; yet here was the child, clad now in the crape of a nun, as pure as she had ever been. The farmer was in error, and surely idle curses recoil on those who launch them. Sampei, the brave and generous, was without reproach. Even sleepy Buddha must know that. Perchance he was at this moment rating Koshiu, on the further bank of the mystic Sandzu, for his precipitate injustice. Masago strove to persuade herself that it must be so, whilst striving to console the terror-stricken Miné, and yet at the bottom of her heart there was apprehension, a dull weight of cold foreboding.

The ways of Heaven are so strange, so unaccountable sometimes, and to our purblind vision so unjust, that the most robust of faith is sometimes sorely shaken. Miné wrung her hands, refusing comfort. As with trembling fingers she untied the bonds which supported her dead father, she prayed to him with cries and lamentations. It was through her own wrongheaded madness that the mistake had occurred. Sure her parent knew it now. If the curse must fall on one of the two, let it be on her, for she was in fault, not the glorious young General. Could he hear her now, her father? Oh, for some sign that he could hear and would grant her humble petition! Wretched, wretched child! Her punishment was already greater than she could bear, for was not she doomed to drag on a sad existence, stripped of all her kin. Had she but behaved as a dutiful daughter should, instead of grieving now, heart-broken, she would be standing on the further bank of the river of death along with Gennosuké, and little Sohei, and sweet Kihachi. Alack! alack! While the bereaved daughter raved, distracted, the elders of Tsu and the outlying villages were taking counsel. A notice had been handed to them, on the part of their lord, which ran thus: – "The property of the deceased, his rice fields and corn fields, and forest and mountain land, shall be sold without delay, and divided into two parts; one shall be paid over to the lord of the estate; the other, by his extreme condescension, shall be the portion of the culprit's daughter, who has been permitted to live. This is to show how godlike and noble is your master; and it is hereby strictly forbidden to make comments on the sentence, or find fault with this his decision."

One-half for Miné, who was in some sort an heiress, then. Poor heart! She little recked of her good fortune. The temple yonder would be the richer for her portion, for she was Buddha's servant now, – his handmaid till her spirit was released. With regard to the dead, the elders consulted awhile, and then with calm decision Zembei, supported by Rokubei, rose from his knees and spoke.

"Dear friends," he said, "Koshiu, who suffered this day, bruised his bones and crushed his soul for your sakes. In appealing direct to the Most Holy Mikado he sinned greatly, but 'twas from excess of zeal; and in being compelled to see those he loved massacred before his eyes, his punishment was in excess of his misdemeanour. We have decided that honour shall be paid to him, for indeed before his death he was the mouthpiece of the Eternal, who deigned to speak through his lips. It is meet therefore that we, his old friends, who loved him and his as ourselves-though perhaps on one occasion we were unduly selfish-should undertake this matter. We will leave our homes and lands in possession of our heirs, and, shaving our heads, will retire for a while to the top of the holy mountain; and after a period of probation, will descend from Mount Kôya in Kishiu, and, becoming priests, will wander from town to town, praying at every shrine for the souls of the departed, collecting as we go from the charity of all good people. And then, having collected enough, we will erect a temple over their bones, with six Buddhas in bronze to do them honour, and there shall prayers be offered up for ever for them, and also for us."

The people listened to the oration, and bowed their heads without a word, for the decision of the elders was good and natural. All therefore lighting paper lanterns, for it was dark now, turned to follow across the outer moat, away along the straggling interminable street, the procession of the dead.

Masago had accepted a temporary trust, and it was well. Within the darkling groves of her sacred pines should the victims lie at peace, until such time as, by divine grace, the elders should return to fulfil their holy task; and it behoved those here assembled, who had witnessed the sacrifice, to offer a prayer together, and commence among themselves a collection for the building of a shrine.

Solemn and slow, like an army of glow-worms, the procession wended along to the sad chant of nuns and bonzes; and, unknown to them, as the simple people marched, there followed a fervent benison from the lips of one despairing. The dreary chatelaine was sitting at an upper casement of the castle, wistfully gazing into the night.

Recovering consciousness, the Lady O'Tei found herself in her bower, surrounded by grieving maidens, and was relieved, glancing fearfully around, to miss the figure of my lord. She was spared his hateful presence. For that small mercy, thanks. For, still and self-possessed as she had appeared during the ordeal, thereby winning the admiration of Sampei, and, even for a time, the grudging approval of No-Kami, the chatelaine had suffered so intensely as to produce a crisis in her nature.

During the short while that the scene lasted, years seemed to have passed over her head. Hitherto she had been weary and empty and unhappy-deeply miserable, but yet with a germ of hope half stifled. That germ was quite dead now, shrivelled and black. She was beset with an intense craving for rest and sleep, – for the fragrant perfume of the earth. Although the execrated name of Hojo was hers, the scathing curse on all who bore the name passed harmless over her. Her conscience was clear. She had done all that within her lay to save the victims, and, calm and still in outward aspect, had suffered far more than they. A threat of proximate death? – release! The world, whose beauty she had so intensely enjoyed ages ago at Nara, was repellent now, – a hideous mockery, – a skull crowned with flowers. For how false was its song of sweetness, since such wickedness and injustice flourished in its midst. A world of disease and pain and sorrow. In this life are not many punished for their virtues, as a set-off to the manner in which others are rewarded for their vices? What wonder if people fall under burthens too heavy for their backs?

Koshiu and his had already entered on a new and smiling existence; if his dying words might be believed, had started under sunny auspices on the next round of life. And at the same time he had prophesied that no Hojo henceforth might ever win peace. They were doomed to wander from one globe to another, gaining no step, rising no higher on the earth, for all eternity! How horrible! So dread a bolt overshot its mark; for sure the universe must be ruled by fiends if those whose crime is to bear an execrated name are for that to be undone for ever. To die, and try again, and yet again, in vain-a weary prospect. The sooner the better, after all, for no future phase could be less tolerable to the Lady O'Tei than the present one. She was condemned, as it seemed, never to attain aught that she desired; never to have a prayer answered, or a wish gratified. And all that she now longed for was repose. Ah, how vain that wish! For never may we enjoy perfect rest save in far-off Nirvana-away in the incalculable and limitless Nirvana! where, when time is dead for us, refined and freed from the last speck of dross, we are to achieve the reward of nonexistence.

O'Tei had learned to despise her husband more and more, but now she had a new and positive feeling for him-active and sore and gnawing-one of intensest hatred. And she was his-bound to obey his whim. How long? For his part, he took little trouble to conceal that he hated her, and would be glad to be rid of an encumbrance. Should she fling herself at his feet, and, baring her white bosom, implore the mercy of his dirk? No. She shuddered as she thought that he would laugh-that fierce and ugly laugh of his that made her blood run cold-would spurn and revile, hissing forth recreant, but yet would forbear to strike her. There was nothing for it but plodding patience, – a stringing of the nerves to endurance-slow, continuous, monotonous-the hardest of all tasks to an overwrought and nervous woman.

Meanwhile Masago, moving like a tall still ghost at the head of the procession, was disturbed and exercised in mind. How strangely things were going. If she might only be allowed to see. What thunderous clouds were gathering? Was the appalling prophecy to be accomplished to the letter? Like the chatelaine, her being rose in protest. Was her own brave boy, innocent of all wrong, to be involved with the rest, simply because his name was Hojo-the guiltless suffering for the guilty? Why, so was hers. Though but a second wife or concubine, she was mother of a Hojo-proud to call herself Hojo-jealous of the family honour, although of plebeian birth. She could quite understand the feelings of the rough warriors towards a chatelaine who was to them a riddle; but she, discerning, renowned for subtle acumen, could see under the rind what a fragrant nature was O'Tei's, if it had not been nipped half-blown. She sighed heavily as she walked, and pondered of O'Tei. What of this new element introduced into the castle-of discord surely? Not of necessity so. Should No-Kami elect to take the new-comer to himself, as folk already whispered, what of it? Had not his father done the same? And she, Masago (concubine), and the bellicose Tomoyé (wife) had never quarrelled.

But then O'Tei was so different from her predecessor. She was so odd and sensitive and self-contained, given to contemplative fancies which served no good purpose. Masago, the sage, was quite angry sometimes when she considered the education of O'Tei. She, an abbess, should know something of such matters, and there was no doubt about it that the bonzes and priestesses of Nara had blundered. The heiress of Nara was destined by her birth to a grand alliance, to reign in a world of strife, and they should have combated, while the nature of their pupil was yet malleable, such tendencies as might be likely to interfere with the young lady's future happiness. Dancing the kagura in a wood was all very well for priestesses, but in a fierce age, when every man's hand is at his fellow's throat, the female head of a warlike household should be taught to hold her own. Poor O'Tei had never been properly prepared, and was in truth no more fit to cope with the difficulties of her high position than would be the merest coolie's daughter.

In the candour of self-communing Masago admitted this much to herself, making apologies the while for the shortcomings of her favourite, and laying the blame upon the priesthood.

And again the question would assert itself-Was the new element for harmony or discord? If she could only know, and help to keep matters straight. If O'Tei were sensible, she would accept the second wife with gratitude, for she would be relieved of the society of one whom she abhorred. But then O'Tei was so peculiar. And so much depended on the attitude assumed by the second wife, if second wife she were to be. She, Masago, and Tomoyé had got on so splendidly that, as she thought of the past, a faint blush of self-complacency tinged the Abbess's ascetic cheek. No doubt about it. She, Masago, had displayed, as she usually did, consummate tact. In fact, in their instance, the two wives completed each other. Each had the talent which was denied to her companion, for Tomoyé often declared that though her muscle was a marvel her brain was wanting, while Masago was the best of advisers, although no warrior. Hence, whilst both adoring their lord from their own point of view, they could perfectly trust each other without jealousy, and play into one another's hands-a fact which was clearly proven when the regnant Hojo wearied of his concubine. Tomoyé did her best to retain the second wife (not knowing what the next fancy of her lord might be), and constantly sought counsel from Masago after her assumption of the crape.

Masago therefore, as she walked, summoned to her side the devoted elders who were so soon to embrace the priesthood, and cross-questioned them narrowly. They had observed, had they, in my lord's visage, how desperately he had become enamoured? They were certain that his sudden passion would insist on being gratified? But what if the travelling geisha were a light-o'-love to be picked up too easily to-day and cast forth to-morrow? Rokubei shook his head. The astute Masago-all-wise counsellor-would never venture so futile a suggestion had she once scanned the lady with her searching scrutiny. Oh, a cunning and fascinating lady! A petulant and wilful lady, and an obstinate! Ay, and a circumspect. What object could she have had in insisting on the bodies being given up, except to ingratiate herself with the lower lieges? What cared she, a stranger from afar, for a farmer of Tsu or his family? And then, that way she had of sending gleams out of her dark velvet eyes from under the deep fringes. Even he, Rokubei, who spoke, and who shortly on the holy hill was to have his pate shaven, was fain to admit, under the seal of secrecy, that his own, for the future ascetic, bosom had been pervaded by inconvenient warmth under the glamour of those lightning shafts, and all the while he knew that they were intended for another. And my lord, so inflammable, so given to indulgence, who knew so little of the curb! Masago might believe, or not, the speaker, but it was clear to him that in a few days-nay, hours-the too fascinating geisha O'Kikú would rule the Daimio and his vassals, whether for good or evil was as yet in the womb of time.

Masago listened, and became more and more uneasy. Could it be possible that she, who had that day only appeared upon the scene, was the chosen instrument-selected beforehand and arrived exactly in time-for the fulfilment of the prophecy? Was she to undermine with her pink little fingers the great dynasty of Hojo? and, if so, how? For the advantage of the dynasty she, the discarded second wife, would gladly sacrifice herself and wear her fingers to the bone; would even surrender the life of her dearly-beloved son Sampei for its advantage. Fool! unreasoning woman, and incorrigible fool! Who was she to presume to combat Destiny? – to raise her weak hand in feeble protest against the finger of Buddha, the all-seeing? Although the blasphemous suggestion had unbidden entered her brain, vigils and much praying would be needed to atone for its presence. She would kneel on the stones throughout the ensuing darkness, praying for pardon and for light. How may we, however watchful, guard against presumption-against pitting our puny sagacity against the Infinite?

And though she fulfilled her self-imposed penance, remaining until dawn, despite years and infirmities, with forehead resting on the stones, maternity struggled with asceticism. Her bowels yearned over Sampei-the pride, the flower of Japan-and she prayed as only a mother can pray that her boy might escape the curse. How willingly, she pleaded, would she herself submit for his dear sake to recommence the ladder from the bottom. She knew not, of course, how high she had attained by long and painful climbing, but from her present consideration and eminence she must be considerably advanced on her pilgrimage. She would sacrifice all-all-with what ecstatic joy-for his sake. And as she lay convulsed in the dark, with the drops of a mother's travail coursing down her wrinkled brow, she never dreamed that in the pure intensity of undimmed devotion she might be in the act of rising yet another step. In the morning, feeble and exhausted, she turned her to the newborn orb as he showed above the glorious sea, and, vaguely relieved, sat basking in his beams. Then struggling up she groped to her cell with lagging feet, and sank into a stupor of fatigue.