It was the bantō (clerk), faint with the hunger of long waiting, who led the parents into the first cook shop encountered on the way. Here over greens and cold water the father sighed, the mother wept apart, the clerk eyed biliously the meagre fare. Then in poured the company of Kogiku—a noisy, merry crowd. There were expressions of amused discomfiture, caught by the sharp ears of the clerk; suggestive references. He watched them; heard the lavish orders for food and wine—"Plenty of wine, and piping hot"—"Respectfully heard and understood." The waiting girls were at their wit's end. The feast in progress the bantō came boldly forward. "Honoured sirs, deign to note these parents here, deprived of their daughter. Your honoured selves have lost a girl of much value to your master. How is it then that you thus deign to rejoice? Plainly the grief of these must be out of place." The man addressed more directly looked him over coldly; then cast an eye on the distressed father and mother, at their meagre fare. His manner changed. He became more cordial. "Good sir, the affair is not to be taken thus! Sentence has been given, but...." He laughed—"it can be revoked. Already in the inner room the master is in consultation with the agent of Takai Yokubei San (Mr. Highly Covetous), Aikawa Dono,—the honoured yōnin of Aoyama Sama. A round bribe, and the girl will be released...." The words were not out of his mouth when the father was on his feet. Led by the bantō he made the rounds of all—pimps, bawds, and bouncers—soliciting their influence—"Honoured gentlemen of the Yoshiwara, deign to interfere in the matter, to plead with the master of the Uedaya. House, lands, goods, all these are nothing if the cherished daughter be restored." He wept; and they took pity on his inexperience. The first speaker at once sprang up and went to the inner room. The master of the Uedaya cordially desired their presence. Added funds were no drawback to his own petition in the dealings with Yokubei San. The parents introduced he told them—"It is but a matter of cash. Kogiku, within the next three days, must be delivered to the gōshi of Kazusa, or else a large forfeit paid. She can kill herself on the day following. 'Tis no affair of the Uedaya. Add your gift of a hundred ryō to the bribe of the Uedaya, and Saisuké San, here present, can assure success. Aikawa Dono surely has not left the court. He awaits report, with as great anxiety as your honoured selves. As for the Tono Sama, he has had the presence of the girls for the six days, and will be all the more easily worked on. But from all accounts the honoured daughter had little to lose in the experience. She would make a splendid Go-Tayu." Seeing no sign of acquiescence he shrugged his shoulders, and continued to the honoured Saisuké San—"A most annoying affair: a hundred ryō to this shark, and only the premium and the debts of the oiran will be paid. But he will take no less?... Be sure she shall learn the use of the seméba (punishment cell) before she finds her new master." Saisuké San with slow smile made answer—"Be sure that by night she will be in your hands, ready for the experience."
Rejoicing the parents gave thanks, and betook themselves to their home. Half ruined, again O'Somé would gladden their hearts. But the mother had an eye to the expense, and promised a reception hardly better than that awaiting Little Chrysanthemum. Why show favouritism? There was small difference between the two. But this the father energetically denied. Meanwhile Aoyama Shūzen was preparing for his wine feast, one of a pleasant succession extended over this interval. With misgiving and no pleasure he saw the entrance of Aikawa Chūdayu. The chamberlain brought with him the account books. Shūzen's experience, however, noted past profit as salve to annoyance. He was a bitter hard man in domestic administration; cutting down food, and by fines the wages, of those more regularly employed in the household. This made the threatened loss of women serving by compulsion the more severe. Chūdayu knew how to deal with his master. Affairs in the household were not going well, under the free indulgence of Shūzen toward himself and his pleasures. Besides he was about to deprive him of his new favourites. At a sign Kogiku and O'Somé, already present by the lord's favour, withdrew. The younger girl had aged ten years in experience with this companionship of the week. Chūdayu watched them depart. Then sighed heavily. "Ah! Ha! So it's that." Shūzen moved testily, as sharply he regarded his satellite. "Acting under the instructions of your lordship, the box of cakes has duly been received from Saisuké. The affairs of the household require a large sum. Her ladyship's confinement is to be considered, the entertainments required by custom for the expected heir. To return the gift means to your lordship—the sacrifice of two hundred ryō. May the Tono Sama deign to consider a moment. Such double good fortune is rare—and the messenger waits upon this trifling sacrifice of a pleasure for which substitutes easily can be found." He drew the furoshiki from the box. Shūzen sighed; but did not hesitate. "Hasten Saisuké off at once; with the exchange." He placed the box in a closet close by. "As for the wine feast, Chūdayu shall be the cup-bearer. Shūzen is in an ill humour." He had an ugly look. Chūdayu, however, did not draw back. Leaning forward with a smile—"This Chūdayu would make report, to the pleasure of the Tono Sama."—"Of what?" asked Aoyama, in some surprise at his chamberlain's earnest manner. "Of the whereabouts and close proximity of Kosaka Jinnai."—"Ah!" The tone of voice had the depth of years of expectant hate.
CHAPTER XVIII
Kosaka Jinnai
When Takéda Shingen swept down upon the lower provinces in 1571, fought a rear guard action at Mikatagahara, in which he nearly extinguished Tokugawa Iyeyasu, with a taste of the latter's remarkable powers of recuperation, he went on to his real aim of a trial of strength with the main Oda forces in Mikawa and Ōmi. The great captain lost his life by a stray bullet before Noda castle. His death for long kept secret, until the northern forces had withdrawn into the fastnesses of Kai, the war languished, to be renewed with greater activity under the rash and ignorant leadership of his son. Katsuyori and his tribe cut belly at Temmoku-zan, the last and successful bid of Iyeyasu against his former enemies. Then the Tokugawa standard was planted from Suruga to Mikawa, and Iyeyasu became indisputably the first of Nobunaga's vassals—and one never thoroughly trusted.
Among the twenty-four captains of Takéda Shingen was a Kosaka Danjō no Chūden. His son Heima inherited the devotion, as well as the fief, of the father. Unlike many of the Takéda vassals in Kai he clung to Katsuyori Kō through all the bad weather of that unlucky prince. Kai was no longer a safe place for vassals true to the native House. Better luck could be assured with the old enemies, the Uesugi in the North. But Heima would not seek other service than that of his once lord. He only sought a place to live.
When the ex-soldier appeared with his wife in the village of Nishi-Furutsuka at the base of Tsukuba, the people thereabouts had more than strong suspicion that he who came so quietly into their midst was not of their kind. However his presence was accepted. His willingness to take up farm labour and another status, to become a gōshi or gentleman farmer, his valued aid and leadership in the troubled times which followed, were much appreciated. The year 1599 found the old fox Iyeyasu Kō planted in Edo castle; and Jisuké, as Heima now called himself, leaning over the cradle of a boy just born—a very jewel. Jisuké's wife was now over forty years in age. Hence this unexpected offspring was all the dearer. In the years there had been losses and distress. The new-comer surely was the gift from the Kwannondō nestled on the slopes of the mountain far above the village. To the Lady Merciful many the prayers for such aid.
The child grew and prospered. A farmer's boy, yet he was the bushi's son; made plain in every action. Under the tutelage of the priests of the neighbouring Zen temple he learned all that they chose to teach, far outstripped his fellows, and in class room and in sport was their natural leader. Sport was the better test. With years Jinnosuké tired of the clerical teaching. The leader of the village band he was its mainstay in the wars with boys of rival hamlets thereabouts. These were soon driven away, and their own precincts invaded at will. The mountain became distinctively the property of Jinnosuké and his youthful companions, whose whole sport was devoted to mimic warfare. Their leader, thus unchallenged, became more and more reckless; more and more longed to distinguish himself by some feat beyond mere counterfeit war. One day, under his direction, in the storming of the hill which represented the enemy's castle, much brushwood and dried leaves were gathered. "Now then! Set the fire! The foe, blinded by the smoke, perishes under our blows. On! On!" The other children eagerly obeyed. The blazing mass towered up and up. The trees now were on fire. The wind blowing fiercely drove the fire directly on to the Kwannondō, which stood for the citadel of the besieged. Soon the temple itself was in flames. Greatly excited the boys swarmed amid the smoke and confusion as if in real battle. "Now—for the plunder!" At Jinnosuké's order the furniture of the temple was made the object of loot, heaped up at a safe distance for future division.
Thus engaged loud shouts met their ears. In fright the band of youngsters turned to meet the presence of the enraged incumbent, the dōmori. The temple was his charge and residence. His small necessities were supplied by visits to the villages below. "Oi! Oi! wretched little villains! Thus to fire the temple in your sport is most scandalous. Surely your heads shall be wrung off—one by one. Terrible the punishment—from Heaven and the Daikwan."[20] The boys in confusion began to slink away. Then the voice of Jinnosuké rose above the tumult. "On! On! This priest stinks of blood. Be not cowards! The commander of the castle would frighten with words. 'Tis he who is afraid. It is his part to cut belly in defeat and die amid the ruins." In a trice the whole pack had faced around. Boldly with staves they set upon the priest. Numbers brought him helpless to the ground. There was a large stone lying close by. Heaving it to his shoulder Jinnosuké stood over the prostrate man. "According to rule the matter is thus to be conducted. This fellow is to be given the finishing stroke; then buried in the castle ruins." He cast down the heavy block with all his force. The priest's brains were spattered on the ground. Under the direction of Jinnosuké the body with feebly twitching limbs was thrown into the now blazing mass of the temple. Then forming in line, and raising the shout of victory, the youthful band of heroes marched off to the village. Under pain of his displeasure—which meant much—Jinnosuké forbade any bragging or reference to the affair. Wisely: a day or two after a peasant came on the scene. In fright the man hastened to make report. At once buzz was most tremendous. Was it accident or the work of thieves, this disaster? Said one man sagely—"The dōmori was a great drunkard. Deign to consider. The temple furniture is untouched. Thieves would have carried it off. He carried it out to safety, to fall a victim in a further attempt at salvage. The offence lies with the priest, not with the villagers." The report pleased all, none too anxious to offend the bands of robbers ranging the mountain mass and the neighbouring villages. Thus report was made by the village council to the Daikwan's office. The temple authorities had a severe reprimand for allowing such a drunkard to be in charge of the shrine. Jinnosuké stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Trust to the valour and skill of this Jinnosuké. These constables are fools." But his companions were a little frightened with this late exploit. Their numbers fell off. Many of them now came to the age fit for farm work. Jinnosuké was not long in finding substitutes in the real thieves who haunted the neighbourhood. Their spy, and often engaged in their raids, yet in his own district he was only known as a bad and dissipated boy.