His aching limbs and heavy head accompanied him to his lord's yashiki in Ichigaya. Rokuzo took to his bed. At the porter's lodge the kyūnin, Naitō Kyūsaburō, inspected the tickets of the chūgen. At last Rokuzo had made his appearance; and had made no report. He was not long in reaching the chūgen's bedside. With severe face he questioned him as to his absence and neglect. "Gluttonous fellow! Something eaten is the cause of the sickness. Rascal that you are, a good purge is the thing. Then a fast in the jail will restore the stomach. This the punishment, if great your good luck. Otherwise—it will be the garden front. Report is to be made." He turned to go. Rokuzo detained him. He spoke with timidity, but under spur of the greater retribution. He admitted his fault. "But...."—"But what?" impatiently interjected Naitō. "Is not the food furnished by his lordship ample supply for the belly? Does a chūgen question his lord's generosity? What banquet tempted this rascal...?"—"Indeed it was a banquet." Rokuzo went into details. Kyūsaburō's rage increased. "You are lying. Or does illness follow food partaken in a dream? Perhaps the rascal Sukébei has not been paid. Is Rokuzo a thief?" Rokuzo groaned in pain and discomfiture. He would make a clean breast of it; confess to more than mere food. And he did. "Nor is Rokuzo the only victim. Isuké, chūgen of Okumura Sama of the Banchō, nearly lost his life. Others have been trapped; and others knew enough to refuse service and run away. Truly this Rokuzo is a fool. Condescend the honoured intercession. Ah, that banquet!" He shuddered at the thoughts aroused. At sight of the receipt of Sukébei perforce Naitō Kyūsaburō believed. He pitied Rokuzo, administered the stoutest purges in his pharmacy, and left him somewhat relieved in mind and body. The tale was soon known all over the yashiki—to the profit of all and the amusement of most. With gleeful malice Rokuzo would be asked to describe his meal, the superlative flavour of the wine, for past fact and present fancy became strangely mixed in his recital. Thus, through the report of the kyūnin, Naitō Kyūsaburō, the experience of his chūgen Rokuzo came to the ears of Endō Saburōzaémon, hatamoto of the land, of four hundred koku income, and officer in charge of the Hiban or fire-ward at the Ushigomé gate.[3]
CHAPTER II
The Bakémono Yashiki
Endō Saburōzaémon heard the report of his officer. A slight frown puckered his brow, and he contemplated the big toe of his immaculately white tabi (sock). "A vexatious matter! Hatamoto of the land, official duty gives occupation enough. Yet for such things to take place, and so close to the person of the suzerain, this is not to be permitted. Beyond his love for wine Rokuzo has shown himself trustworthy. He is not lying?" Kyūsaburō bowed low—"As your lordship says. Of his illness there is no question; and that not merely from a drunken debauch. Rokuzo is not one to be tempted by women; and to those beyond his station he dares not raise his eyes. It was the wine which tempted him beyond discretion. He has tried all patience, been most disloyal. The honoured dismissal or severe punishment at the least is his due. The Tono Sama summoning him to the garden front, and deigning the kindness of putting him to death (te-uchi) ... yet...." Hesitating he brought out the once hana-furi-kin, wage of the unfortunate Rokuzo, now in such danger of drastic remedy for his aching head. Respectfully pushing forward a knee the kyūnin presented it to his lord. Saburōzaémon examined it with much curiosity. "And this?"—"The wage for his porter's work," answered the officer, his face respectfully wrinkled with the trace of a smile. "Though one could say from his exhaustion that he received other favour than coin. The very thought of his filthy repast drives the rascal to most fearful retchings. He is in a parlous way, and if your lordship deign forbearance...."—"Heigh!" He was interrupted by the exclamation of Saburōzaémon, now examining the leaf most intently. "I say now! An oak leaf, the broad reminder of the kiri (paulownia imperialis), such might come from last year's fall. This leaf never sprang from Nippon's soil."—"Just so," replied the kyūnin. "Hence petition for delay in administering punishment."—"And of course the fellow is useless. Ill, and besides he knows not whither he went, and came to himself on the Ichimenhara."—"Yet, while still in his five senses, he recognized Go Banchō; and it is fact that the chūgen of Okumura Dono suffered likewise in the Banchō."—"Of Kakunai and the strange horse this Saburōzaémon has heard. And the other man?"—"One Isuké, a stout fellow, but in good fortune the twin brother of this rascal Rokuzo."
Endō Saburōzaémon rose to his feet with an elasticity and snap denoting decision. His wife standing close by laid hand upon his arm. He turned to meet her frightened questioning look. He spoke reassuringly. "Don't be afraid. Such things so near the suzerain's honoured dwelling are not to be permitted. This Saburōzaémon goes to learn the facts as to this suspicious house. The samurai has no fear of apparitions; and less of thieves, as is likely to be the case. Let the rascals look to themselves if they would avoid the taste of Saburōzaémon's sword. Kyūsaburō is to see that the Yashiki is well guarded. To-night Ōkubo Hikoroku Dono holds the fire ward. The occasion fits." At once he was busied with his preparations for out door service. His wife, granddaughter of old Nagasaki Chiyari Kurō—he of the "bloody spear"—was the samurai woman, to aid her lord in his duty, not to hold him back with tears and plaints. The pair were admirable specimens of their caste. Endō Saburōzaémon's grand-father had been a retainer of that hard hitting Asai Nagamasa who had to bow the head before the sword of Hidéyoshi. The son Kiémon perforce had served the Taikō, and well. It was with more than readiness that he had appeared in the army of the Tokugawa at Sekigahara, to be killed in all loyalty before Ōsaka in Genwa 1st year (1618). Saburōzaémon was then but five years old. But the early Tokugawa did not forget loyal service. When of age he was summoned to Edo from his native province of Ōmi, given duty in the palace service, to become with years a hatamato with income of four hundred koku and a yashiki in Ichigaya, just beyond the Gomon or great gate at the outer moat.
In the present matter night must be awaited. When the bell of the Gekkeiji, the huge temple of the district, struck the watch of the pig (9-11 p.m.) Endō prepared to set forth. "In case of necessity ask the aid of Hikoroku Dono, of Jurōzaémon."[4] This to his wife. "At least one attendant? Kyūsaburō is old enough to know that these rascals never deal with more than one human." This to the old kyūnin, who with anxiety watched him depart into the darkness. With a sigh the officer shut fast the outer gate. Then, sword over his knees, he squatted himself at the house entrance, to slumber and await his lord's return.
As officer of the fire ward Saburōzaémon met with little difficulty in passing the Ichigaya gate, beyond which lay the suspected district of the Banchō. To the sharp hail and protest at his appearance without a lantern he sought the service of those of the guard. Surprise and abject apology followed the bringing of face and equipment into their light. As on urgent mission to the palace he explained the one and disregarded the other. For form he borrowed a lantern at the guard house, to leave it in a hedge close by, to hand for his return if in the darkness. Straight ahead he walked for some distance. Now he was in the very centre of the Banchō. It was a most lonely place. The district had been set apart for the yashiki of hatamoto and the houses of gokenin who showed no haste to apply for its ample space. Its highways and byways showed lines of bamboo fences, plaster walls, broken at intervals by gates. Between the far yashiki there was much waste land. Suspicious were its precincts in these days when the haunting spirits and apparitions, attendant on once owners and their wars, were being driven out by the advent and aggression of the new lords from the South. Still fresh in men's minds was the wondrous mami-ana of Azabu—the cave of the tanuki (badger)—with the implied curse on the Tokugawa. The cohorts of apparitions, driven northward to the land of savages, had suffered severely at the hands of Ii Naomasa on the banks of the Ueno Toshima ferry. Thus the curse came down the centuries on the Tokugawa House.
Once in the heart of the district Saburōzaémon stood uncertain. All sense of locality was lost. The Banchō by day and by night greatly differed. The wind sighed through the great pine trees and whispered in the long suzuki grass. He thought to reach the neighbourhood of the Gomizaka. The noise and bustle of the Kōjimachi would give direction. Just then a lantern came in sight at the turning in the lane. As it drew near it was seen that to all appearance the bearer was a chūgen. Endō drew back into the shadow. He would take a good look at him. He allowed the man to pass. Then from behind—"Heigh! Wait!" Instead of waiting the fellow took to his heels. Endō pursued and soon caught him. In terror the fellow sank on his knees before the two sworded man. "Deign, honoured sir, to spare the cutting test. This Isuké is yet young. He loves life. Condescend not to cut short his breath." Saburōzaémon was struck by the name fresh to his ears. Coldly he looked the man over; played on his terror—"Yet you are fat; just of the girth to give fair test to a new blade."—"Nay! Your lordship can deign to observe it. Isuké is stuffed out with a recent meal. It would be but a case of tripes. His bones are young and soft, his muscles wasted by mere feeding. It would be as cutting tōfu (bean paste). Deign to spare him."
Said Saburōzaémon. "'Tis no cutting test. Thus passing carelessly at the side that fat paunch was an easy mark. Be more careful henceforth.... You live hereabouts?"—"Honoured Sir, 'tis so. Isuké is chūgen at the yashiki of Okumura Sama."—"Ah! Then you know the haunted house (bakémono yashiki) of the Banchō."—"Just beyond? Isuké knows it too well."—"Life spared, act as guide thither." The man's knees bent under him. He plead for forbearance. Plainly he must die. Only to this dreadful sentence and sight of Endō's sword did he yield. Reluctantly he went ahead of the samurai, as far as a gate the massiveness of which attracted attention. Saburōzaémon looked it over, then carefully considered his guide. He held out a coin. The fellow respectfully drew back. Said Endō with impatience—"As lord of this mansion the money of guidance is offered. Accept it without question. Here lies my purpose." This was but addition to obvious terror. With wabbling knees the fellow persisted in refusal. "Honoured lord, deign forbearance. Already has this Isuké accepted entertainment here, with fearful results; nearly quaffing the waters of the Yellow Fountain in Meido." Said Saburōzaémon sourly—"What has the purpose to do with a low fellow's entertainment? Take the coin, and be off with you. Darkness acts as screen." The man did but whimper, "With purpose in hand: truly darkness the screen, upside down; the balsam an incense, the sticks to hand in the clay dishes. This? 'Twill turn out but the leaf of a tree, to bring sorrow on Isuké. Your lordship has said it."—"It is good coin," replied Endō briefly. Then with some curiosity—"But what has a tree leaf to do with purpose?"—"Pine leaves denote purpose, and are so named."[5]—"A clever fellow after all! No wonder he escaped.... But be off with you. The coin shall ring true with daylight. So much is promised on the word of a samurai. Fear the living man, not the inanimate object; and say nothing of meeting the donor. Otherwise Isuké ends badly. Now—off with you!" The voice was very human, the peremptory gesture surely that of a two sworded man. The chūgen took confidence in the fact that he could not help himself. Whatever doubts he possessed, these he kept with the coin in his bosom. With scant thanks cut short by fear he obeyed the order to depart into the shades. Gathering impetus with distance he fairly took to his heels.