They were surprised upon their arrival, however, to find that they were none too soon, and that the rush of pilgrims and traders already made it difficult of obtaining quarters close to the main entrance at the palace grounds, the much coveted place of rendezvous. As their expenses had hitherto been even lighter than expected, Shibusawa was still provided with ready funds, and he now proposed to get as near the main approach as he could without seeming impertinent, and as a matter of convenience, as well as respect, to secure the best accommodations consistent with their apparent stations. Thus they finally established themselves at the Look-See tea house, a favourite hostelry for the better class of pilgrims, and were assigned quarters on the top floor plainly in view of the gates and directly on the line of march.

This noted caravansary did not differ much from the rest of the two-storied open-sided thatch-roofed houses resembling hay-stacks on stilts that lined both sides of the narrow streets which emerged closely from the outer entrance at the palace enclosure. Within the house, in the broad and airy tea rooms below, or on the soft matted floors above, these jolly transient and sometimes happy wits would sit or lounge discussing, over a cup of tea or a bowl of sake, the topics of the day or the gossip of their particular neighbourhood. Without, the brilliant lights, the gaily dressed, the sound of the koto,[[6]] the song of the geishas,[[7]] the clatter of shoes, the parley of tradesmen, the chatter of voices, the endless round of life from early morning till late at night, might well have turned the heads and emptied the pockets of the thirsty throngs who ever crowded the happy-go-lucky place. Much of all this could be distinctly seen and heard from Shibusawa’s apartments in the second story, fronting the plaza, nor did he lose an opportunity, for he was there to see and learn as well as to rest and enjoy himself.

Thus he remained quiet and observant, without venturing upon the street, until the evening of the second day after their arrival. In the meantime Okyo had been sent out to reconnoitre the principal places and the liveliest dancing girls, in which he was materially assisted by an Osaka merchant who occupied an adjoining room. Thereupon, after a sup at the restaurant and a quiet smoke on the floor, they all sauntered off in quest of such pleasures and excitement as the night might afford.

As this was the last night before the grand parade the streets were unusually crowded and the buying was brisk. Now more than at any other time the servants and retainers and their families were permitted to come outside the walled enclosure and into the streets in quest of trinkets and gewgaws with which to ornament and bedeck themselves on the following day; the chance to elbow these favoured ones, probably more than a desire to buy, brought there many of the city’s curiously inclined; the opportunity afforded the guests, emptied the numerous inns; and all together, when mingled under myriads of bright lanterns, amid the tinsel and the noise, it was a sight most glaring and intensely interesting.

Shibusawa and Okyo had edged their way along for some time and until they had passed through the main shopping districts and into the nokodos’ (marriage brokers’) quarters, with its barren little stalls, narrow doors, and large gaudy sign-poles projecting like charred remnants of a burned brush patch. Here there were girls in silks and girls in rags, all being dragged alike, one after another, in long rows, by mothers in need of ready cash, before the several nokodos, who were each and all haggling and quarrelling over the price of this or the qualities of that one; always closing the bargain if closed at all with some ejaculation expressing great sorrow at having paid too much or received too little for the “honourable unhandsome one.” Shibusawa looked on for a while not so much at the formality, for that was a common thing, but at the attitude of the parties, which impressed him deeply. He could understand the brokers’ motive, as there are always those who are designed to thrive on the weakness or misfortune of others—especially when the law makes such a business legitimate or possible. The mothers he divined to be mostly the victims of too generous self-indulgence; who were now hardened by necessity and excused by custom. But the daughters—why their complacency? Was it a decree of law or of love that caused these young maidens, some of them beautiful, attractive, or intelligent, to exercise the most stoical indifference while the mother was bargaining them off at the best price obtainable? As Shibusawa passed them by, or stood and looked, his heart throbbed and he almost said aloud:

“Can this be God’s will?”

Moving on with some difficulty they soon came to a place a trifle more pretentious than others, where they unconsciously entered and pushed their way close to the nokodo who sat on the floor at the opposite side of the room. After several offerings had been scanned and pinched and jostled, then bought or passed, a middle-aged woman of more than ordinary presence first hesitated, then advanced and bowed to the bejewelled broker, whose keen, sharp eyes squinted under a narrow, wrinkled brow. A rosy-cheeked, innocent young daughter of fourteen stood nestled at her mother’s side, blushing, though erect. Shibusawa stood contemplating not the persons but the act, and when the mother had made her best plea and was about to accept the price offered his strong frame shook, his face whitened, and he resolutely said in a clear voice:

“No; I will give you three hundred yens (dollars) besides an additional one hundred to bear the charge.”

The nokodo was more than pleased to get the lawful commission without assuming any risk, and in consequence drew up the proper bill of sale from Torimas, mother of Shiyoganai, to Shibusawa, a pilgrim.

It had been specified and provided that Shibusawa should be the lawful owner of Shiyoganai for a period of three years from that date, and that in consideration of the extra one hundred yens the child should remain the charge of her mother. When properly signed, sealed, and delivered Shibusawa paid over the money and carefully folded the document inside his girdle, while he and Okyo then went their way and the mother and daughter returned to their home.