I.
A man and a woman were whispering to each other by a shaded lamp in a quiet detached room which was partly hedged by unohana whose snow-white flowers gleamed in the moonlight. Only the frogs croaking in the neighbouring paddy-field broke the stillness of the night.
The man was Sakuma Shichiroyemon, a councillor of Oda Nobuyuki, the lord of the castle of Iwakura, in the province, of Owari. About fifty-two years old, he was a fierce-looking man with powerful muscles and bristling gray whiskers. Haughty, quick-tempered and very jealous he tyrannized over his subordinates and was accordingly an object of hatred throughout the clan. The person with whom he was now talking was a woman close upon his own age—the supervisor of Lord Oda’s maids-of-honour, by name O-Tora-no-Kata. Being a cross, cunning, and avaricious hag, she was regarded by the maids with terror and detestation. “Birds of a feather flock together.” She had wormed her way into the good graces of Shichiroyemon in order to make her position secure; whilst the latter, on his part, had set her to spy on the actions of his lord, as well as of his colleagues and inferiors.
“What’s that, Madame Tora?” asked Shichiroyemon, his face reddening with anger. “Do you mean to tell me that our lord is going to set that green boy of a Hachiya over me as Prime Councillor?”
“I repeat what I hear;—all the maids say so....”
“Pshaw! How I do hate that Hachiya—that peasant’s son born in obscurity. Who knows where he comes from? A pale, smooth-faced womanish sprig! How glibly he flatters our lord! He has never been in battle; what use is such a bookworm in these warlike days? And yet this inexperienced stripling is going to be appointed Prime Councillor! Humph, what infatuation! Ha, ha, ha!”
“It will not boil yet. The fire is not strong enough.”
“Eh! The fire?”
“Ha, ha!” said O-Tora with a disagreeable smile. “Here I have good fuel to make you burn!”
“Don’t try to annoy me like that,” said he impatiently. “Tell me quickly.”
“It is the secret of secrets. I can’t readily ... w-e-l-l ... sell it.” She spoke slowly, with an emphasis on the word ‘sell.’
“How grasping you are! Well, then, I will buy your secret with this.” So saying, Shichiroyemon took a packet of money out of his bosom and threw it down on the mat. The crone picked it up in silence, a cunning smile playing about her lips.
“Mr. Sakuma, you must not be off your guard.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, K...; you must give her up.”
“What! Give up Katsuno?” he exclaimed, startled. “Why? Tell me quick!”
“Don’t be surprised, sir. It is our lord’s pleasure to give her to Hachiya in marriage.”
Katsuno was a maid-of-honour of Oda Nobuyuki with whom she was a great favourite. A young damsel of nineteen springs, she was the incarnation of beauty, grace and sweetness of disposition, combined with refinement and dignity. In spite of his years Shichiroyemon was madly in love with the fair maiden; but though he had courted her in every way through O-Tora, she had shown no inclination to respond to his advances.
“Has Hachiya formed a liaison with Katsuno?” asked Shichiroyemon anxiously.
“Not that; you know they are both such honest blockheads; they are too stupid for that. Even if they had the inclination, it would be impossible for them to elude my vigilant eye—not even a devil could do it!”
“Is it then our lord’s order?”
“That is it. To-day our lady said to me, ‘It is not good for Hachiya to be alone any longer; Katsuno is a beautiful and excellent-minded maid, I will give her in marriage to Hachiya before long in reward for her faithful service!’ Yes, surely, our lady told me so.”
“Is that indeed so?” said Shichiroyemon, his brow darkening, and his eyes glaring with the intensity of his jealousy. “That green peasant’s son of a Hachiya! It would be infamous to put him over a man of my ability and experience, it would be an additional wrong to give Katsuno to him in marriage. What an insult! What mortification to one of my years! I cannot stand it! I shall never rest till I have taken some steps against this Hachiya—my mortal enemy! I will have my revenge! He does not provoke me with impunity!” He spoke so fiercely and the look on his face was so diabolical that the old woman was frightened.
“Your anger is quite natural, sir; but you know ‘Anger leads to loss.’ You must think more calmly about this matter.”
“Have you anything to propose?”
“Well, ... of course, in the first place Hachiya must be assassinated, and then we must manage to get Katsuno out of the hands of our lord on some pretext or other;—I will undertake that.”
“And I will settle the other business! But, be careful, Madame Tora!”
Here a puff of cool wind swept through the room and blowing out the light of the lamp put an end to their conference for that time.
II.
It was a fine afternoon in autumn; in the gardens of the castle of Iwakura, the glowing maple leaves and vari-coloured chrysanthemums were in the height of their beauty.
To-day being the anniversary of the death of Nobuyuki’s father, all the inmates of the castle had been busy since the early morning with religious services, and a visit to the deceased’s grave; to-night a banquet was to be given to all the samurai.
It was now about four o’clock, and several maids-of-honour who had retired to a private chamber to enjoy an interval of rest were talking volubly.
“What chatterboxes you are, maids! You prattle like sparrows.” This from O-Tora who entering at this moment made the sneering remark that effectually put a stop to the gay talk. As she seated herself, one of the girls, a saucy young thing, ventured to say with a demure smile. “But, Madame, women are chatterboxes by nature, aren’t they? ‘Nightingales visit plum-blossoms’ and ‘Sparrows and tigers visit bamboo groves’; so we chattered like sparrows hoping Madame Tora (tiger) might be induced to come to us.”
At this repartee the rest of the maids burst into peals of laughter and even the cross-grained duenna could not refrain from a sour smile.
“Your mention of sparrows reminds me of Takané (the name of a white-eye)” said she. “It seems the bird has not uttered a note all day. Has it been fed?”
The girls started guiltily, for so busy had they been all day they had quite forgotten to attend to the bird, a great pet with their lord who had received it, together with other gifts, from the Shogun in recognition of his military services. Nobuyuki dearly loved the bird for the sake of its song, in addition to which he prized it on account of its donor.
O-Tora, observing the consternation of the maids, revenged herself on them by saying spitefully:—
“You had better have kept your idle chattering till you had fulfilled all your duties, you good-for-nothing girls.”
“It is a shame to have forgotten all about the poor little bird!” said Katsuno, who was with her companions.
“Poor thing, how hungry it must be! I will go at once and give it some food.”
Stepping down into the garden, she went to an old plum-tree, and stretching up her arms took the beautifully ornamented cage of the bird off the branch on which it hung. As she did so the hook came off and the cage fell to the ground, with the result that the door came open and the little prisoner with a glad twitter escaped. With a cry of dismay the girl ran after it, but too late; the bird had already made its way through the trees and was now flying far away across the blue sky rejoicing in its freedom.
“What have you done, Katsuno?” cried O-Tora, from the verandah. Inwardly glad of this golden opportunity to carry out her dark scheme of getting Katsuno into disfavour, she yet cunningly concealed her delight under cover of fear and consternation. “Alas! You have let Takané fly away. Dear, dear, what carelessness! How could you do it!”
Katsuno, gazing up at the fast disappearing bird, seemed half stupefied. At O-Tora’s words she came to herself, and then overwhelmed with thought of the consequences staggered a little and fell wailing to the ground. Her young companions standing on the verandah uttered exclamations of amazement, but none of them came to her aid, or attempted to console her. “What will you do, Katsuno?” continued the old vixen, who had by this time come down to where the unhappy girl lay, and seized her by the neck of her garment. “You know Takané is not a common bird, but a treasured present from His Highness the Shogun. Do you realize what you have done in letting it escape? Can you atone for your fault simply by a few tears? What can you do to repair the injury you have done to me, for it is I who shall be blamed,—I shall be considered responsible for this misfortune! Come, get up, girl, what have you to say?”
“Katsuno, prepare for death!” A loud and angry voice caused them all to start. Informed of what had occurred the hot-tempered Nobuyuki had rushed to the scene, and now with a drawn sword stood over the prostrate girl in a passion of ungovernable rage.
At this critical moment another voice was heard.
“My lord, my lord, wait!” It was the new Prime Councillor, Tsuda Hachiya, who thus ventured to interpose. “Calm yourself, my lord, I beg you. Do you forget the day? Is it not the holy anniversary of the demise of your revered father? Can you sully this solemn occasion with a bloody deed committed in the heat of anger? Restrain yourself and leave this matter to my discretion.”
Nobuyuki’s rage subsided as quickly as it had risen, and his better reason prevailed. At the remonstrance of his favourite he sheathed his sword and retired to the verandah.
By this time most of the retainers had arrived at the castle for the evening’s banquet, and hearing of the incident hastened to the scene. Shichiroyemon was among them and under cover of the confusion whispered something to his accomplice,—then coming forward “How about Katsuno’s chastisement, my lord?” he said. “You act wisely in not inflicting death with your own honourable hands, but as an apology to His Highness the Shogun, and as an example to the clan it is necessary—it is imperative that she should receive condign punishment.”
“W-e-l-l—” Nobuyuki hesitated; then turning to Hachiya, “What is your opinion, Hachiya? Shall I do as Shichiroyemon says?”
“No, my lord. History tells that long, long ago, in the reign of the Emperor Takakura, one cold frosty morning, some thoughtless gardeners cut off a few branches of a beautiful maple-tree of which the young Emperor was very fond, and burned them to warm their saké. Fujiwara Nobunari, an official in charge of the tree, greatly shocked at this, bound the offenders hand and foot and reported the matter to the Emperor. The benevolent monarch, however, was not enraged at all, but said calmly, “A Chinese poet sings:—
‘In woods we gathered maple-leaves2
‘And burned them to warm saké.’
I wonder how these humble gardeners have learned to have such a refined taste? What a poetic idea!” Thus the Emperor acquitted the careless gardeners. This is one reason why the Emperor Takakura is revered as a great sovereign even now after the lapse of so many centuries. So I hope and pray that my lord who is as large-hearted as the Emperor, will be lenient with a young girl who through no fault of her own has been so unfortunate as to cause this accident.”
“Enough, Mr. Tsuda!” broke in Shichiroyemon. “You are doubtless a great scholar, and eloquent, but the slack measure you suggest would be a bad precedent. You are always tender and sympathetic with women, but in dealing with a matter such as this we must make no distinction of sex. As well might you pardon the offender who sets fire to the castle and reduces it to ashes, just because she is a woman and it was ‘by mistake’! Is that justice?”
“Your argument is absurd,” replied the younger man contemptuously. “You speak as if severity were a good principle in government. If so, why did Kings Chow and Chieh of ancient China, and the Tairas and the Ashikagas in our own country come to such speedy ruin? Recollect that to-day is the sacred anniversary of the demise of the father of our lord, and therefore it might well have been our lord’s purpose to have set the white-eye free, himself, for the peace of the revered spirit.3 The fault unintentionally committed by Katsuno has thus led to the humane act of setting a poor caged bird at liberty. I have somewhere read these lines:—
‘Though one loves the sweet songs of a caged bird,
‘Who knows the sadness of its inner heart?’
In my opinion Katsuno has committed no fault in the true sense of the word, but on the contrary, done a good action.”
With the exception of Shichiroyemon and O-Tora, all present listened with admiration to the eloquent pleading of Hachiya on behalf of Katsuno. The black-hearted pair persisted in urging the girl’s expulsion from the castle, but Nobuyuki turned a deaf ear to their arguments, and decided to let the matter rest. Katsuno, all this time on her knees in the garden, now almost worshipped her deliverer in the depth of her gratitude.
III.
Tsuda Hachiya was now thirty-one. He was born the son of a farmer, but being a handsome, well educated lad, in his sixteenth year he had been appointed to the post of page in the household of Nobuyuki who soon began to treat him with great fondness. The young samurai devoted his leisure hours to a further study of literature, and to the practice of fencing; and as he speedily evinced marked administrative ability, such as was rarely found among the intellectually ill-trained samurai of those days, he rapidly rose in the service, until now, while still a young man, he was both Prime Councillor and Steward, and exercised great authority. But notwithstanding the rank and power that might well have turned the head of one so young, he behaved modestly in public and private, and served his lord with all faithfulness and diligence, gaining thereby the admiration of the whole clan for his character and virtues.
One evening Hachiya presented himself before his lord at the latter’s urgent summons.
“Hachiya,” began Nobuyuki, abruptly, with a pleasant smile, “I think it is high time for you to—, isn’t it?”
“Excuse me, my lord, I do not understand you?” said Hachiya with a puzzled look.
“That important affair of yours.”
“That important affair of mine?” echoed the young man more puzzled than before.
“Ha, ha! how dull-witted you are to-day! The Katsuno affair!”
Hachiya did not speak. It was not the first time that Nobuyuki, who was enthusiastic over the question of Hachiya’s marriage, had offered to act as middleman between him and Katsuno. Far from objecting to the proposed bride, Hachiya’s inclination pointed that way, but his prudence, however, had hitherto prevailed, and he remembered the saying ‘a full moon is sure to wane.’ His appointment as Prime Councillor over the heads of older men was already calculated to give offence; should he marry Katsuno, the acknowledged beauty of the clan, would he not still further give cause for jealousy and ill-feeling? Moreover, he was not ignorant of Shichiroyemon’s mad attachment, and had no desire to provoke his resentment; therefore, on various pretexts, he had month after month evaded his lord’s importunity.
“Do you again say ‘until next month’?” said Nobuyuki, half threateningly, as the young man remained silent. “Think not to deceive me in that way!”
Hachiya did not answer; his head was bent in respectful attention.
“Answer me at once! Still silent?... Tell me, do you dislike the girl?”
“Oh, no, my lord, but I fear her refusal!”
“Is that all! Set your mind at rest on that score; I have sounded her. Poor girl! Since the white-eye incident her ‘sickness’ has become worse and she has grown quite thin!”
Observant and sympathetic, Nobuyuki had found out that Katsuno was love-sick for Hachiya.
“Do not tease me, my lord! I will tell you of my real reasons for this hesitation.”
And with this preface Hachiya gave his reasons, at each one of which the older man gave a little nod of comprehension.
“I admire your prudence and forethought,” he said when Hachiya ceased speaking. “But remember you can never do anything if you think so much of the feelings of others. As for that doting old Shichiroyemon, do not fear him. I have set my heart on your happiness, and I never do things by halves. It is my wish, also, to give Katsuno the desire of her heart. But as it is so near the close of the year we will postpone the marriage till the New Year, and then I will listen to no more denials. Yes, yes, that is what we will do, Hachiya.”
So saying, Nobuyuki summoned a maid and in a low voice gave an order. Presently a bottle of saké and some cups were brought in. Then the fusuma between this and the next room was gently slid open and there appeared a beautiful young woman clad in a gay uchikaké or gown, who knelt with movements full of grace on the threshold. It was none other than Katsuno.
“What is your pleasure, my lord?” said she bowing reverently first to Nobuyuki and then to Hachiya.
“Ah, is it Katsuno? I want you to serve us with saké. Sit nearer to me, Hachiya; come, let us have some saké.”
“Excuse me, my lord. Something tells me I am needed at home; besides it is getting late. With your kind permission, I will go home at once.”
“No, no; not just yet, Hachiya. Though it is late no loved one is waiting for your return, I imagine. Ha, ha! Come, you cannot refuse. Katsuno, pour him out a cup of saké!”
She filled Hachiya’s cup to the brim
Katsuno hesitated bashfully, but on Nobuyuki’s repeating his command, she took the bottle, and with a hand that trembled filled Hachiya’s cup to the brim. Their eyes met and both blushed consciously.
“If you have drunk, let Katsuno have the cup,” said Nobuyuki.
“I should return the cup to your lordship.”
“No, I will have it after her. Give it to Katsuno.”
Hachiya had no choice but to do as he was told, and accordingly offered the cup, into which he had poured more saké, to the maid-of-honour, who overcome with shyness, took and sipped it with difficulty.
“Give it to me.”
Nobuyuki drank off three cupfuls and then said with a sly laugh:—
“I am mightily glad you have thus exchanged the wine-cups of betrothal! Ha, ha! You have my hearty congratulations!”
The young lovers prostrated themselves in acknowledgment of his favour, but even as they did so the loud clang, clang of the alarm-bell broke the stillness of the night and caused them all to start up to listen.
“What can it be?” exclaimed Hachiya, opening the shōji to look out. No need to ask that question; the lurid sky, the quickly rising flames and showers of falling sparks proclaimed all too surely a house on fire!
“A fire, my lord! And not more than five chō beyond the pine-trees on the bank of the moat. I must go at once!”
“No doubt as to its being a fire,” said Nobuyuki looking out also, “Is it not in your direction?”
“Allow me to leave your presence; I fear it is as you say!”
“Then lose no time! I will give the necessary instructions to the Fire-Commissioner myself.”
With a hurried word of thanks and apology to his lord and Katsuno, Hachiya left the apartment and ran home at the top of his speed. A fierce wind had arisen and whistled through the branches of the tall old pine-trees; louder and louder clanged the iron-throated bell.
His fears were all too surely realised: he reached his home only to find it wrapped in flames! A detached room where he had been wont to study was already reduced to ashes and the fire had caught on to the main building. The trees in the garden were also burning and as the wind shook the branches they let fall a shower of sparks. A number of samurai and firemen were doing their utmost with squirts and rakes to get the fire under, but against the fierce flames fanned to fury by the strong wind their efforts were of little avail. Hachiya involuntarily heaved a deep sigh of despair, but there was no time to delay. It was imperative that he should venture into the burning building and save, if possible, important documents and ancestral treasures, as well as some highly valued gifts he had received from his lord.
As he rushed through the front gate a dark form sprang from the shade of a great pine-tree and plunged a sword into his side. Before Hachiya could draw his own weapon the assassin gave him another thrust through the heart, and the young Councillor fell lifeless to the ground.
The charred body of the hapless samurai was found in the ashes of his ruined home.
IV.
On hearing of Hachiya’s death, Nobuyuki clenched his teeth, and Katsuno was beside herself with grief.
A dagger—an excellent blade by Masamuné—was found near the body. Seeing it, Nobuyuki slapped his thigh in delighted recognition, for it was a well-known weapon which his elder brother Nobunaga, Lord of Owari, had given to the elder brother of Shichiroyemon, Gemba Morimasa, one of Nobunaga’s councillors. Except Morimasa nobody could have had it but Shichiroyemon; therefore, Nobuyuki who knew of the terms between his two followers, had no doubt but that his favourite councillor had fallen a victim to the jealous malignancy of the man he had superseded both in the favour of their master, and in the affection of the girl on whom he had set his heart. Added to this, a man who had been arrested on suspicion on Hachiya’s premises the night of the fire, confessed after a strict examination that it was at the instigation of Shichiroyemon that he had set fire to the house.
Evidence of his guilt being so strong, some sheriffs were despatched to Shichiroyemon’s residence to arrest him; but the wily scoundrel scenting danger had fled, and it was not till after a rigorous search that it was found that he had taken refuge in the neighbouring province of Mino in the castle of Inaba, belonging to Saitō Dōzō.
O-Tora-no-Kata also disappeared about this time, and rumour had it that she was now in the mansion of Gemba Morimasa.
It was the seventh of January, and most people were enjoying the New Year festivities. But to Nobuyuki, the season brought no joy; he still brooded over Hachiya’s tragic end. Buried in thought as he leant on his arm-rest, he did not notice the entrance of Katsuno, still pale and emaciated she knelt before him.
“Ah, Katsuno, I am glad to see you,” he said, “I was thinking of Hachiya, and of your great grief in losing your future husband just after you had exchanged the cups of betrothal. I feel for you with all my heart!”
“Thank you, my lord,” she replied sadly. “You are too good to me!”
“It is natural you should grieve,” went on Nobuyuki, after a pause. “But mere sorrowing does no good to any one. Far wiser would it be to devise some way to kill the base assassin and avenge Hachiya with all speed.”
“You are right, my lord,—I think my husband in Hades would be pleased to know that your lordship is willing to do so much for his honour. May I ask what is the result of your negotiations with His Excellency, the Lord of Owari?”
Nobuyuki’s brother, the Lord of Owari, being the son-in-law of Saitō Dōzō, Nobuyuki had requested his brother to arrange for the delivery of Shichiroyemon, but Dōzō had ill-naturedly refused.
“This puts difficulties in our way,” concluded the old lord disconsolately.
“I have a favour to ask of your lordship; may I venture to speak?”
“By all means.”
“Permit me to go to Inaba, my lord.”
“To Inaba! You want to go to the castle of that Saitō Dōzō?”
“Yes, my lord. I wish to enter the castle in disguise, and avenge the death of Hachiya on his murderer!”
“Not to be thought of, Katsuno!” Nobuyuki could not keep back a smile, though he saw the girl was in deadly earnest. “A young woman, and single handed!—absurd!”
“Not so, my lord, believe me!” Katsuno’s eyes gleamed, and her breath came quick and fast. “I have thought it all out. I beseech you to let me go!”
Nobuyuki argued with her in vain. Her mind was made up, and nothing could shake her resolution. Therefore, he at length reluctantly gave her the desired permission, at the same time handing her the Masamuné dagger, to which reference has been made before, and saying:—
“This is the dagger with which our Hachiya was stabbed; thrust it up to the hilt in the throat of his murderer, and avenge his death!”
“I will, or die in the attempt! My lord, I thank you, farewell, fare....”
A burst of tears choked her utterance; she hastened from the room.
“May you have all success,” said Nobuyuki, as she disappeared, and then he returned to his thoughts.
V.
In the guise of a merchant’s wife, and assuming a false name, Katsuno journeyed to the castle-town of Inaba, and taking up her abode at the house of an uncle who was a farmer living in a village close to the town, watched for an opportunity to achieve her purpose.
One day, Yoshitatsu, the son of Saitō Dōzō, returning from hunting, stopped to rest at the farm-house. Katsuno waited upon him and served him with tea. Her beauty and grace of manner attracted the attention of the young nobleman. In reply to his inquiries Katsuno’s uncle told him that she had recently lost her husband, a merchant, and that she was anxious to enter the service of a daimio’s lady. Yoshitatsu undertook to engage her as maid-of-honour to his mother, and his offer was immediately accepted with joy. She was soon an inmate of the castle, where her faithful service pleased her mistress so much that she speedily became a great favourite.
A warm spring day, with the delicate blossoms of the cherry-trees filling all the land with their beauty, and the faint sweetness of their perfume. Since dawn a large number of workmen had been busily at work sweeping the courtyard of the castle, and spreading clean sand over it. Some important function must be on hand. Katsuno wondered what it was.
“Excuse my curiosity, my lady,” she said as she served her mistress with a cup of tea, “but for what are those men making such great preparations? Is anything going to take place?”
“Don’t you know? To-morrow there will be matches of mounted archery.”
“Mounted archery, my lady? What is that?” asked Katsuno, feigning ignorance.
“All the samurai who are skilled in archery will practise the art on horseback.”
“Are many coming, my lady?” asked Katsuno, her heart beating high with the hope that at last she might meet her enemy.
“About a hundred, I believe, to take part in the competition, and of course, all the samurai of our clan with their families will be present to look on.”
“Who are the archers?”
“Why do you ask?”
Katsuno was embarrassed for a moment, but quickly regaining her presence of mind, she replied:—
“For no special reason, my lady; but my father, though only a farmer, was very fond of archery, and so, from a child, I have been interested in the sport.”
“Ah, I see. Well, they brought me a programme of the day’s events this morning; here it is; you can see the names of the archers for yourself.” The lady handed Katsuno a sheet of soft, thick paper covered with bold, black characters. With an eagerness she strove to conceal, she ran her eyes down the lines, till near the middle of the page she found the name “Sakuma Shichiroyemon” At last! This was the time for which she had waited and planned.
“All the archers seem to be good samurai. What a splendid sight they will present! How I should like to see the sport, even from a distance.”
“There should be no difficulty about that. You have my permission.”
“My lady, I am deeply grateful.” She could say no more, but such was the state of her feelings that it was with difficulty she performed her usual duties that day, nor could she sleep at all at night.
VI.
The following day the weather continued to be all that could be desired. The wide courtyard was duly prepared. The centre was enclosed for the list in the shape of an oblong square, and temporary stands had been erected all round it to accommodate the spectators; these were covered with gay carpets and soft cushions which gave colour to the scene. A dais in the very centre of the gallery on the eastern side of the lists and at a convenient distance from the target, was richly decorated with hangings of purple and white silk, which fluttered gently in the breeze. This was the place of honour for Lord Saitō and his family.
From early in the morning, samurai after samurai began to arrive at the castle, and soon every stand was crowded. The lord of the castle accompanied by his family and attended by a numerous retinue of councillors, pages, and maids-of-honour, presently appeared, and in great state seated himself in the place prepared for him. Katsuno, gaily dressed, her face powdered and painted in the usual fashion, and the Masamuné dagger concealed in the bosom of her garments, was among this company, and avoiding the attention of the others, eagerly awaited her opportunity.
“To-day, or never,” she thought to herself. “If I let such a golden opportunity pass, I shall never get another! Dearest Hachiya, look at me from Hades! I will avenge your death before the sun sets!” Then clasping her hands she murmured a prayer, “Oh, Hachiman, God of War, favour me with success!”
When those about to take part in the competitions were ready, the umpire, the herald, the signalman and the registrar, all betook themselves to their respective stations; a large drum being then loudly beaten to announce that the tournament was about to begin.
One after another, the archers clad in kosodé (silk underclothes), hitataré (court robes), and mukabaki (breeches), came forth on horseback into the lists and rode to and fro, till coming to the appointed spot from which to aim, they shot their arrows at the mark. The judge, or umpire, would then after a careful examination give his decision, the herald would loudly proclaim the name of the archer and his achievement, while the registrar would make a written record. Then it was the part of the signalman to announce the event to the spectators, who raised such shouts of applause that one might almost fancy the petals of the cherry-blossoms fell in showers from the vibration in the air.
So archer after archer exhibited his skill, until now it was the turn of “No. 53” Sakuma Shichiroyemon. Katsuno, who had been impatiently awaiting her chance, and whose nerves were strained to the utmost, involuntarily grasped the dagger in her bosom.
Shichiroyemon rode out slowly, but as soon as he had bowed low to his lord, put spurs to his horse and dashed swiftly forward.
In her nervous excitement Katsuno pushed forward and straightening herself assumed the attitude necessary to cut at her enemy as he came up to the dais. In so doing she touched her mistress’s shoulder and shrank back inadvertently, but the next moment she again pressed forward and stood ready.
Shichiroyemon galloped up with the speed of lightning, the horse’s mane touched the railing of the gallery, but before the girl could act was far out of her reach.
With an exclamation of dismay she stood looking after him.
“What is the matter with you, Katsuno?” said Lady Saitō, displeased at the want of manners in her favourite maid.
Recalled to herself the girl forced a laugh but replied readily enough:—
“Forgive my rudeness, my lady! In my admiration of the heroic sport I forgot myself.”
“You are indeed fond of archery!”
“Yes, my lady, there is nothing I like so well.”
“A strange taste for a girl!” said her mistress looking curiously at her. “But the excitement is too much for you; you are pale and your eyes are bloodshot. Have you a headache?”
“No, your ladyship, but I did not sleep last night.”
“Are you not well?”
“I am quite well; it was the thought of to-day’s pleasure that kept me awake.”
“What a passionate lover of archery!” said the lady laughing, and Katsuno flushed at her mocking tone.
The performance of the various numbers on the programme required many of the archers to appear several times in the lists, Shichiroyemon among them. Every time he rode forth Katsuno eagerly watched for her chance, but to her intense mortification it nearly always happened that his horse was on the opposite side of the lists; and the few occasions on which he approached close enough to where she waited, he dashed past so swiftly she was unable to do anything. She wondered if her enemy had recognised her and was on his guard. She suffered an agony of impatience and fear, and almost gave up in despair.
The programme had been duly gone through, and there now remained only the final ceremony of nanori or “declaring of names.” How would this be performed? she wondered. She feared it would not bring Shichiroyemon within her reach. Should she rush desperately into the lists and kill him there in the midst of his compeers? No, that would be too hazardous; should she fail her chance would be gone for ever. On the other hand if she let slip this opportunity was it likely she would ever get another? And she must decide quickly.
While Katsuno agonized thus, the ceremony had commenced. Each archer in his turn rode up to the dais, bowed reverentially to his liege lord, declared his name, and slowly withdrew. Quickly making up her mind she braced herself for action.
The day had advanced and it was now the middle of the afternoon. The cherry-blossoms hung still in the bright sunshine, for the air had not movement enough to stir even their delicate petals. A langour seemed to have fallen on all and even the spectators showed signs of fatigue. Only Katsuno was keenly on the alert!
“No. 53!” At the call Shichiroyemon leapt on his horse, pausing a moment to arrange the harness. A swift glance at him as he sat in the full blaze of the sun showed Katsuno that he was splendidly arrayed in a white kosodé, covered with a design of nightingales perched on plum-trees. With bow and arrows in his hand, and mounted on a snow-white steed he made a gallant show, his bronze complexion and bushy whiskers adding to his grim and warlike appearance. Katsuno gnashed her teeth.
After riding three times round the lists Shichiroyemon suddenly tightened the reins and caused his horse to stop before the dais. Then slowly riding up to the foot of the gallery he bowed low, as in a clear voice he proclaimed his name. This moment, as he was about to withdraw, was Katsuno’s opportunity. Slipping off her upper garment she was on the step before any one could stop her.
“Well met, Sakuma Shichiroyemon. I am the wife of Tsuda Hachiya whom you foully murdered! Taste the sharpness of my revenge!”
With these words she thrust the dagger into his side with all her strength. So sudden was the attack, and such the force lent her by desperation, that, strong man though he was, Shichiroyemon fell forward from his saddle to the ground. With the cry “Hachiya is avenged!” she gave him another thrust which proved mortal.
A white petal wafted by the breeze fluttered softly on to the blood-stained dagger, and for a while all who witnessed the scene were speechless with horror.
VII.
Saitō Dōzō, in his admiration of Katsuno’s heroic deed, had it in his mind to save the girl from the consequences of her rash action; but as a samurai it did not accord with his honour to do so. This for two reasons; one being that he had refused to deliver up Shichiroyemon when asked to do so by Nobuyuki; and the other because it was a disgrace to him personally that a warrior under his protection should have been killed by a woman. Therefore, he gave orders for the close confinement of the culprit, directing that she should be strictly watched and guarded night and day.
Now that she had accomplished her long-cherished desire, and had sent word to that effect to Lord Nobuyuki, Katsuno no longer had anything to trouble her, and awaited her sentence with a tranquil mind.
One evening she was arranging some wisteria flowers which had been brought to her by one of the samurai, appointed to keep guard over her, when without any announcement Lady Saitō came into her room.
“How tastefully you have arranged those flowers, Katsuno!” she said. “Have you recovered yourself?”
The girl smiled.
“Yes, thank you, my lady; having attained my object, I have nothing left to wish for, and am ready to meet my fate.”
“You are a pattern of womanhood! How I admire you! It is unbearable that one so virtuous should be subjected to the ignominy of imprisonment for so long. I have repeatedly implored my lord for your release, but as yet without avail.”
“You are too good; but I have no hope of release, and I am ready to die.”
“Your death would serve no end, and I do not intend to let your life be sacrificed. Listen,” she came nearer and whispered in Katsuno’s ear, “I have managed to get your guard sent away on some pretext, and to-night, Katsuno, you shall escape.”
“Indeed, no, my lady; that cannot be! I am quite prepared for death. Without Hachiya my life is nothing to me, and should his lordship discover what you had done his wrath would be terrible,—What might he not do to you!”
“Have no fears on that point. It is not likely my lord will suspect that I had any hand in your escape, but at the worst he will not kill me. Do not think of me, but fly!”
“But, my lady,...”
“Oh, how obstinate you are! Why will you throw your life away? Katsuno, as your mistress, I command you to escape this night!”
Seeing her mistress would take no refusal the girl gave in, and they proceeded to discuss plans.
“And when you are safe, Katsuno, how will you spend your life?”
“I shall become a nun and spend my life praying to Buddha for the peace of my dead husband’s soul.”
“An admirable resolve, but foolish! Have you no love for your parents?—for your family and home? Ah, forgive me, your parents and brothers are dead? I did not mean to cause you pain. But do you not see that in that case it is impossible for you to give yourself up to a life of devotion? Who then could carry on the family name?”
“But, your ladyship, I became the wife of Hachiya....”
“Yes, yes, but you were only betrothed! If you had married him really, the case would be different,—an engagement is nothing. No other woman would have considered it necessary to avenge his death. Your faithfulness has been demonstrated by your heroic deed. Your devotion will be handed down to posterity as a model for all wives to admire and emulate, but now that is over; other duties remain.”
“What would you have me do, my lady?”
“You must marry.”
“A second marriage!”
“No, a first; as you told me yourself you were never married to Hachiya, so who can blame you or call you a faithless wife if you contract a marriage with another man? Even Hachiya in the spirit world would approve of it.”
Katsuno thought over these words. It was true according to the ideas in which she had been brought up that it was her duty not to let her family name die out.
“You are right,” she said at length. “If I escape I will not refuse to marry.” But she sighed, for her heart was with Hachiya.
“I was sure you would be sensible. And now hear what I have to say; a near relative of mine, Ōsuga Katsutaka, a retainer of Lord Tokugawa of Mikawa province is looking for a wife. He is only twenty-seven, yet he is distinguished for his scholarship, bravery and above all his military achievements. He has a great future before him, and, what counts with a woman before all things, he has very good looks! Will you marry him? I have already sounded him on the subject and he is anxious you should be his wife. Do not reject such a good offer.”
Katsuno was silent, partly because of maiden modesty, and partly because it was too momentous a question to be decided without due consideration.
“Why do not you answer? What is your objection? I assure you that Ōsuga is every thing that can be desired; you would never regret marrying him—he is so brave and learned! But what is most important in your case, if you have two or three children by him you can adopt one of them to succeed to your father’s house and carry on the family name.”
“I am deeply grateful to you for all your kindness, my lady. I will do as you advise; you are wiser than I, and you know what is best.”
“Then you agree? That is right, you are a good girl, Katsuno, and deserve to be happy, as I know you will be with Ōsuga. But it is getting very late and it is time you went. A palanquin is ready with ten strong footmen to convey you to the home of Ōsuga. I am sorry to part from you but it has to be, Farewell.”
As she spoke, Lady Saitō handed Katsuno a letter addressed to Ōsuga Katsutaka, and a packet of money for her travelling expenses. The girl accepted them with many thanks, and bidding farewell to her mistress made her way to the postern gate from whence she safely effected her escape from the castle arriving at her destination without adventure.
VIII.
Ōsuga Katsutaka married Katsuno with the hearty approval of his lord, Tokugawa Iyeyasu, who greatly struck with admiration of the girl’s heroic deed, readily promised to accord her his special protection.
On hearing of this, Shichiroyemon’s brother Gemba Morimasa, a well-known warrior, who had won for himself the nickname of Gemba the Tiger, clenched his teeth in wrath and mortification, and going to his lord, Nobunaga, gave him a minute account of all that had happened, requesting him to take immediately some steps to wrest Katsuno from Iyeyasu’s hand.
“If this be left undone,” he continued fiercely, “my brother’s spirit will never be at peace, nor will my outraged feelings allow me to rest. You must see this, my lord.”
“Calm yourself, Morimasa. You speak wildly.”
“Who could help it, my lord! Just think of the case! Not only was my brother murdered by a mere woman, but she, my mortal enemy, has been taken under the protection of a powerful noble, so that I am powerless to touch her! If I allow the matter to stand my reputation as a warrior will be compromised. If you decline to interfere, I will go myself and negotiate with Lord Tokugawa. At least you will allow me to do that!”
“If you are so set upon it, I will see what I can do,” said Nobunaga, reluctantly; and he accordingly sent a warrior to Iyeyasu to request the delivery of Katsuno.
Iyeyasu readily granted the messenger an interview, but after listening to what he had to say, replied bluntly:—
“I am sorry, but I cannot consent. Katsuno is a heroine, and such a woman as is rarely found in Japan. To speak frankly, Shichiroyemon did not behave well. I understand that because Katsuno would have nothing to say to him, and because Hachiya, to whom she was affianced, was a favourite with his lord, Shichiroyemon, out of a mean jealousy, unworthy of a samurai, caused his house to be set on fire and himself to be assassinated. In my opinion,—in the opinion of all right-minded men, he richly deserved his fate, and it was fitting he should die as he did. What can his brother urge in extenuation of his crime? His demand is preposterous! Think of Katsuno! For the sake of a man to whom she was merely betrothed, she boldly avenged his death, stabbing a strong warrior in the midst of a large concourse. What courage! It might well put a man to shame! And this heroic woman comes to me for protection, honouring me by her confidence! Do you imagine I will give her up? Never! Tell your lord that Iyeyasu is not one to betray his trust, and that he emphatically refuses to deliver up this brave woman to her enemies.”
There was nothing more to be said. The messenger returned to his lord and gave the answer he had received. Nobunaga admitted its reasonableness, and not even the hot-tempered Morimasa could deny its truth. But being of a stubborn and revengeful nature, he brooded over his grievance, and secretly schemed or the attainment of his purpose.
One fine autumn day Katsuno, attended by a maid, was strolling in the grounds at the back of her residence. Sweet and beautiful she looked, with the calm happiness of a contented young wife. To the west of the garden were to be seen the quarters of her husband’s retainers, and the twang of bowstrings accompanied by the whistling arrows showed that the samurai were strenuously practising their archery. A grove of maple-trees bounded the east, and their red leaves effectively contrasted with the dark green of their background. In front, to the south, the view led across paddy-fields to the tall black pines enclosing the precincts of the village shrine. A few little birds flitting here and there, and softly twittering, gave life to the scene.
Standing by a pond in the garden Katsuno was idly throwing some food to the carp which came at her call, when the little gate that gave entrance to the grounds suddenly opened, and an elderly woman came in.
“I am glad to see you, Miss Katsuno, nay, I should say Mrs. Ōsuga,” said the newcomer bowing politely.
“Madame O-Tora!” exclaimed Katsuno, in surprise, quite taken aback by this unexpected visitation. “Is it indeed you? I am very glad to see you, it is long since I had that pleasure. How did you find your way here?”
“By a mere chance,” replied the elder woman, smiling as though overjoyed at the meeting, and speaking in propitiatory tones. “As I was passing along this lane I happened to glance through the hedge and to my great astonishment and joy recognised you in the garden. What a happy home you have! I could envy you your good fortune!”
Katsuno made no reply to her honeyed speech, but asked curtly:—
“How do you happen to be in these parts? Have you come to live here?”
“That is a long story,” said O-Tora in an agitated manner. “I can’t tell it in a few words. I cannot stop to tell you to-day, but I will come again soon when I have more time to spare and tell you all about it. Now I must say Good-bye.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Not far from here ... but I’ll come again soon.... Good-bye!”
And she hurried away. Katsuno stood gazing after her retreating figure with an expression of mingled wonder and doubt, when suddenly from the grove of maples an arrow whizzed past and grazing her sash pierced the shōji of the samurai’s rooms. Instantly an uproar arose, but before anything could be done another arrow whistled through the still air. Quick to think and act, Katsuno flung herself on to the ground but her maid, too much alarmed to move, stood upright where she was.
By this time the young samurai had rushed forth with loud shouts.
“The villain is hiding behind the maples,” cried Katsuno. “Do not let him escape, quick, quick!”
With drawn swords the party dashed into the grove, scattering the red leaves as they pushed through.
IX.
While this was occurring, Katsuno’s husband was away from home having gone up to the castle on duty. Two ruffians were caught, but unfortunately the samurai, being unacquainted with O-Tora’s personality and evil intentions, did not think of trying to seize her also, though it would have been quite easy as she ran wildly hither and thither in her bewilderment and alarm.
Closely questioned, the men confessed that they were spies, and had been hired by Gemba Morimasa to assassinate Katsuno, O-Tora being decoy.
Iyeyasu, in righteous anger, caused them to be decapitated, and their heads were exposed in front of one of the castle gates with a notice which ran as follows:—
“These villains, on a strict examination, confessed that at the instigation of Sakuma Gemba Morimasa, a high retainer of Oda Nobunaga, they had come disguised to our castle-town with intent to murder. However, it may be that they were common thieves and only made up the above story to conceal their mean purposes. Therefore, we have judged them as thieves, and expose their heads accordingly.”
At the failure of his plans, Morimasa flew into a terrible passion; nor could Nobunaga allow the matter to pass without notice. He despatched a messenger to Iyeyasu with a protest, to which he received the following reply:—
“If an honourable samurai of Gemba Morimasa’s rank and position really intended to take his revenge on an enemy he would have come openly and in person. He would not intrust so important a task to low nameless assassins! He could not so debase his honour! This was an act worthy of a peasant, a mere tradesman, or a rōnin. So I concluded that those men were common thieves and in that supposition caused that notice to be written. Can Lord Oda say anything against it?”
What could Nobunaga or Morimasa urge against this temperate reply? They could not confess that the would-be murderers were indeed what they had said, and not the thieves that Iyeyasu affected to believe them. Thus were they again baffled. But Nobunaga was exceedingly enraged and determined to go to war with Iyeyasu in order to wipe out his disgrace. He diligently set about his preparations.
It was not difficult to foretell the issue of a struggle between the rival lords; Iyeyasu, with his small following, had no chance against his more powerful enemy. Katsuno was in despair. It was all through her that this danger threatened Lord Tokugawa, it was because he had refused to give her up that all this trouble had come. She had forfeited her life by her act of vengeance at the castle of Inaba, and but for the mercy of Lady Saitō she would have died long before. Though her husband loved her devotedly and she was not unhappy, still she had no desire to live, and if she were to die, there would no longer be any object in commencing a disastrous war. Therefore she would die.
In the silent watches of a winter’s night when the silver moon flooded all the land with quiet beauty, Katsuno rose from her bed and with a dagger put an end to her life,—in the flower of her womanhood, at the age of twenty-two!
Katsuno left behind her four long letters addressed respectively to Iyeyasu, her husband, Katsutaka, Lady Saitō, and her former lord, Oda Nobuyuki, giving the reason for her rash act, and repeatedly thanking them for all their kindness.