At approach of the noisy procession the mountaineer cottagers peeped out of their secluded dwellings, but perceiving the company of samurai, speedily put up their paper shutters, and made believe to be not at home. For the two-sword man was apt to ape the vices of his betters, and leave behind a trail of ruin such as marks the passage of the locust.
Sampei was too busy with his own thoughts--which were gloomy enough, in sooth--to take heed of those he passed; and even if he had done so, would probably have failed to recognise an elderly pedestrian, who glared with hate from under beetle-brows, at the young noble riding by. Having forgotten even the name of the luckless Miné, it was not likely that he would quickly recognise her father, clad now in dusty pilgrim garb of white, and wide mushroom hat of rice straw. For Koshiu, true to his resolve, was also going to Kiŷoto to watch events, and fulfil, if need were, his self-imposed and dangerous mission. Like all fervent worshippers of Buddha, the sturdy farmer had no fear of death; like other natives of Japan, he was eminently superstitious. Among the Asiatic poor, where ceaseless drudgery, and hunger never fully satisfied, are the common lot; where the tax-gatherer and the avaricious noble are the representatives of government; where earthquake and typhoon cause the forces of nature to be feared as malignant influences; life is not so pleasant as to cause the earthly wayfarer to long for its continuance.
The announcement of the Christian dogma that "the gift of God is eternal life," would rather pain than delight a Japanese, for to him life in any form is to be dreaded--not because death is at the end of it, but because another birth and death must follow (possibly more painful still)--then other births and deaths--links in a long and weary chain, before attaining the ultimate haven. The moral pang that may possibly attend decease, consists in the parting from those whom he holds dear, and will, save under miraculous circumstances, never see again; for the Christian hope of meeting in a better world finds place but rarely in the Buddhist's mind. The chief deity, if slow and somniferous was just, and would (Koshiu argued) surely protect the family of him who was sacrificed for the common weal. There is a temple even now at Kiŷoto, standing on a dizzy height, whose terrace is protected by a strong pallisade, for, unless prevented, it is the practice of the faithful to crave a boon of the god, then fling themselves over the precipice, in the firm belief that--if the boon is to be granted--the deity will hold them scathless. It is strange that the number of bodies shattered on the stones below should not have shaken their faith either in the goodness or the power of the god. Having made up his mind that, if need were, he, the humble peasant, would invoke the sacred and mysterious Mikado's aid, Koshiu passed a night in prayer, then washed and dressed himself in the attire common to high and low who are engaged on a holy mission, and took a tender farewell of his family. There was his dear wife, Kennui; his three boys, Gennosuké, Sôkei, and Kibachi, ranging in years from thirteen to seven. Miné was unaccountably absent, but she was always a froward and unruly maid, wild and disobedient. On this solemn occasion, however, her father left for her a tender message of farewell, and amid the tears and outcries of those who feared that they never again might look on him, tore himself away.
This was on the day before Sampei's arrival,--on the morning which followed the consultation in the farmer's dwelling. The elders, filled with admiration for the single-minded heroism of the man whom they had deemed slow and selfish, went with him, marshalled by Rokubei and Zembei, to the entrance of the town, and with many blessings and prayers, wished the traveller success.
Urged on to speed by an engrossing object, he caught up, and, strong and stout of limb, passed the straggling array of Sampei, arriving in the capital two days before him. The imprisoned envoys were still in durance, he learned from one of those who had escaped, and lurked in hiding. My lord No-Kami--orders having in heat been issued for seizure and incarceration--had apparently forgotten their existence. The threatened vengeance of torment had not been wreaked, and yet their position was no pleasing one, for my lord's soldiers--the peasants and the military class were never friendly--amused themselves with the poor wretches, as cats play with mice--haling them out for diversion--depriving them of drink--pretending to offer saké, and when they held out eager hands for it, playfully pricking them with dirks. At the relation, the blood of Koshiu boiled within him.
These men--honoured and revered at home--who had done naught save humbly to implore redress of grievances, were being murdered piecemeal. It mattered not that my lord had never ordered it. His lawless myrmidons took from him their cue, satisfied that they would not be punished. If the poor things must die, the more speedily the better; but Koshiu swore, with oaths that terrified his listeners, that their deaths should be avenged. Alack! Koshiu must be mad. He prated as if himself a daimio, or a least a samurai or hatamoto! A mosquito on a wall might as well shake a paw, and vow to avenge the slaughter of his fellows! And then at the boldness of his speech they shivered, considering whether it would not be more prudent to withdraw from the society of so rash a person, and sneak back to their crumbling homes. Of a certainty it would, for with even the Mikado himself, the revered and mystical, the insect presumed to find fault. Next he would be falling foul of Buddha, who, putting out a finger, would crush him--and them along with him--the blasphemer; and what then would be their fate in the next cycle? In horror and dread they wrung their hands, and banged their apologetic foreheads on the floor, and, drawing forth beads, told them with feverish rapidity.
These were the words that entered their astounded ears. "For generations stretching back into the shadow of time," the over-bold farmer said, "has our master dwelt behind a screen, looked on by no eyes but those of the kugés and his attendants. Nothing outside the screen penetrates to him save through the mouths of these. Being a mortal, if a highly-privileged one, he cannot see all, like Buddha, himself unseen. We are his, and we revere him, but he knows naught of us, and can know naught, secluded and fenced about, and thereby neglects his duty--for even he has duties; and if, which is unhappily true, the latter-day Mikados have been evilly entreated and dethroned and sent into banishment, 'tis by reason of this sin, and the vile Hojos have been but instruments of retribution in the hand of an offended deity."
What subversive doctrines were these uttered by a presuming pigmy? The horror-stricken elders glanced furtively one at the other with the same thought. Instead of a possible saviour, this man was a firebrand who would involve others in his well-merited ruin. Perchance it would be well to betray him at once to my lord No-Kami, and thereby earn their pardon? Koshiu read their thoughts, and sighed, wishing them no evil. The views of the sturdy farmer were beyond them. As well talk to the trees--better, for the leaves would not shake with terror, and consider the expediency of treachery. He resolved to shut up his opinions therefore within his own bosom, and calmly discussed, without further blasphemy, what the next move should be.
As there was no possibility of, for the present at least, making any move at all, they were still idly chattering when, a few days later, they were startled by the appearance of the very envoys whose rescue was under discussion. They were thin, and gnarled, and haggard, and wrinkled--but then a Japanese peasant over the age of twenty is never a pretty object--yet in health seemed well enough. The tale of the saké and dirks must have been the invention of the foe. And yet to Koshiu these village elders looked suspiciously meek and lowly, more so than the humblest peasant should; indeed their bearing was not unlike that of a mongrel dog, that still smarts under severe correction. At first it was impossible to get anything out of them but fawning praise of the Hojo, uttered in trembling accents, in which fear battled with incoherence. Hojo was excellent and merciful. Had he not deigned to forgive their unpardonable sin, and set them free unhurt? Let them live under their own hats and be content, he had declared. If there were any noble individuals more admirable than the gracious lord No-Kami--and that was scarcely possible--those two were their liege lady and the General Sampei; for 'twas through the intervention of these that my lord had condescended to remember the existence of his humblest tenants, who might otherwise have been still in duress.
With lowering brow Koshiu looked upon his fellows, for these cringing, spirit-broken villagers belonged to the same class as he. Were they worth saving, at the risk of his own life? And then a vision of the misery at Tsu, the growing suffering of all down-trodden Japan, rose upon his vision. No-Kami, thanks to the pleading of his wife and brother, had been pleased, after outrage and ignominy, to release the men who had committed no crime. But what of their petition? The petition? Let it go hang! The well-whipped hounds preferred that the subject should be dropped. How ill-timed was any mention of the petition. It had brought nothing but trouble--the less said about it the better. All they desired was to depart with speed. The sportive samurai might swoop again. Baring their arms, the envoys showed their wounds. The story of the saké was true, then. Little wonder if the starved wretches had had enough of the facetious horseplay of the soldiers.