CHAPTER XV
HOME ABANDONED

Takara did not change, nor chafe, nor exalt under the new conditions; she only loved Tetsutaisho, and being installed in his house she felt secure in what before hardly seemed a reality. His heart was hers, she reasoned, and the law made his domicile her privilege. And had he not convinced her? And might not Nehachibana be proud of her husband’s choice? Better such a concubine than an absent husband, she thought; and, after all, need she rob her sister-in-law of what seemed impossible?

The lovers were happy, and Nehachibana, at first flushed and nervous, had now grown cold and calm. Her own chamber was comfortable, even luxurious, yet for hours she would lay her ear close to the frail partition, and a monster bade the fancies that leaped to her brain. In her bath no abomination had entered. No mugwort or sweet flag had desecrated there. Yet the stork was as silent as the tombs of Nodo, and her hopes had changed to fear, her position to that of a slave. Once she crouched low and listened; then she clutched at emptiness and her face whitened, and she crawled back to her own miserable mat and there planned and determined. Presently she slept, and dreamed of her master’s expected son, which to her had been a blessing.

Nor was she alone in her suspicions, for what she had heard and dreamed the silvered poet visioned and divined. The spirit had touched him, too, and he sorrowed when he waked. Then as if moved by an uncontrollable impulse he stole to Takara’s abandoned home and there mused at the unhallowed life of his downfallen mistress, his idolised queen. Maido, too, had gone there to reflect, and he made no move to disturb the other, but left him to bide the impulse of his nature, commune with the god of his disturbed conscience. Michizane was the product of a nobler life, the devotee of a gentler age, and a worshipper at the tomb of an ancestry far removed from the wicked intrigues of a feudal aristocracy. His was of the mikado’s way, the effect of a divine inspiration. To transgress from its sacred guidance was to fall from the pale of life and to forfeit every privilege of redemption.

Takara, too, was born and bred of this master influence, and notwithstanding her impulsive nature possessed all the charm and dignity of a royal personage, together with that broader intellect which comes of high endeavour, and that better grace which is the product of refined associations. She was proud though not haughty, and in her soul there lived a purpose.

Unlike her, Nehachibana was the product of a proud nobility. Shut up within the castle gates, she had always been idolised and petted. She had known of no want that was not supplied, and had expressed not a wish that was not gratified; every luxury had been showered upon her. Her sense of the good was the one bright hope in her life, for she knew not the force of intellect, nor had she been taught to reason. When she went forth into the world she was helpless in the race, and when she tasted of the bitter it was like the gall of quassia, and she fell at the shrine of Amida.

Of a sweet disposition, Nehachibana had always looked upon the brighter side of life; therefore it was the more difficult for her to reconcile herself to the thought that hers was not a just treatment. She sometimes felt that it was her own shortcomings that had driven her husband away from her, and then she would set about with renewed effort to see that his house was made agreeable to his coming, and her love worthy of his taking. Once she said to herself:

“I shall please him. He is mine and I must win. No other loves him as I do; none but me can have him. He is mine unto death. I shall—but oh! that other one! And the law, and I—O Kami, my heart, my heart, it is breaking! Is there no help? Is there no help for—me? But she, she has his love! It is not he, it is his weakness that she loves! And I, I am helpless!—Helpless? No! Did I not hear Kiyokime, the goddess of hate? And did she not say revenge? And I a woman? Then to the work, and let it be as swift as the necessities may allow. I will have revenge!”

However, it was less easy for Nehachibana to execute than to resolve. She was now entirely cut off from any association whatever with her rival, and found it difficult even to satisfy her curiosity. This unpleasant situation had been brought about more by the foolishness of her mother-in-law than by her own dulness, yet it affected her none the less for that. Heretofore it had been irksome to do service for her rival, which both situation and custom compelled, but now that she had resolved it would have been a pleasure. Still, as difficulties arose her determination increased, and she not only concluded to bide her time but to make certain her victory.