"I will read the petition on my return from the sacred groves. Keep the man close and safe. See that no harm comes to him."
The Daimio of Nara, with a cunning smile lurking about his lips, gave orders that the pilgrim should be safely conducted to his own private apartment in the palace, and then the ponderous procession moved on again, and crawled up the mountain.
CHAPTER VI.
[THE YOUNG MIKADO.]
Tomoyé, the brawny but practical, proved herself more clear-sighted than the statesman-warrior her husband. Hojo, the elder, certainly made the most serious blunder of his life when he arranged that marriage for his heir. A gulf 'twixt a husband and a wife cannot but widen daily, and the part of the latter, right or wrong, is sure to be espoused by her father. The admirable combinations that were to result from an alliance of the houses of Hojo and Nara were conspicuous by absence. As time went on, the haughty No-Kami, averse at all times to advice, showed to his wife's parent his most aggressive side, lest he should presume to lecture.
Although the Daimio of Nara had seen but little of his child, he had received from time to time such affectionate reports concerning the maiden, from the priests and priestesses who had supervised her education, that he was fully conscious of her worth. Between the two lords there was a show of courtesy, which masked on the one side jealousy of interference, on the other, hate. The father of O'Tei, although he pretended to perceive nothing, resented bitterly the scornful neglect with which she was treated by her spouse. During the rare visits of the young chatelaine to the capital, he could see how sad she was, and worn and listless, instead of vivacious and gay, as became her years; and in his heart, antipathy for the despot, implanted by cruelty to the Mikado, increased a hundredfold. He was too wary to quarrel yet with Hojo, but whenever he vouchsafed advice (as he did now and then, for the sake, as he said, of the departed), it was of a kind which rendered No-Kami more execrated still, more unpopular with the people he oppressed. The return of Sampei, and the demeanour of that warrior, produced fresh combinations in the subtle brain of Nara. It was plain that he was shocked by the excesses of his brother. He came of ambitious stock, and the long bloody tale of the history of Japan is full of the rivalry of brothers. What if he could be cajoled or goaded to take arms against him? The unruly army which he had brought back from Corea, accustomed to plunder and lawless licence, would have to be employed somehow, for idleness begets mischief. So long as Mikado and Daimios remained quiescent, the swash-bucklers could not be used against them, and, unemployed they would soon be a source of trouble. What if, by waiting, the enemies of the Hojo could succeed in turning against him the very troops he had summoned for his defence; and what if, by crafty manœuvring, the disgust of Sampei could be raised to such a pitch as to induce him to resume their command?
As the general who had led them from victory to victory, his soldiers adored Sampei. In time, they might probably be made useful as a scourge for Hojo, without their commander, by prospect of pillaging castles, but if he whom they idolised were to summon them forth in the direction of their inclinations, there was no doubt they would follow in a mass. While his master was telling his beads before the great bronze idol in the Nara temple, the thoughts of the lord of the soil were engaged elsewhere, and he resolved on the first opportunity to sound Sampei, and to arrange his plans accordingly.
It was a fortnight after the incident on the bridge of Uji that the imperial cortége wound down the mountain, and returned to the palace in the capital. What a dreary spot this same palace, more like a prison than a free residence, well suited to the ghastly life of blank monotony led by its miserable occupant.
The chief abode of the Mikado occupies a vast space of ground in the centre of the city of Kiŷoto, surrounded by a high white wall, devoid of windows. Passing through a postern in a huge and highly-decorated gate, crowned by an immense tiled roof, you find yourself in a labyrinth, where you would speedily be lost without a guide, for long low buildings meander in and out, and meet at angles, one exactly like another, forming a series of little courtyards, adorned with prim grey bushes. The walls of these are of one pattern, formed of white plaster in timber settings, with heavy roofs and eaves. None of the buildings boast of more than a single storey, which is elevated on posts, a yard above the ground; this by reason of earthquakes, and unclean insects, which have no respect for Emperors. The long outer passages are protected from the weather by verandahs, because persons below a certain rank may not venture to breathe under the same roof as the Fountain of Honour, but must squat humbly in the air without. All the inner wood-work is of pine, smoothly planed, and left unpolished, set at points of junction with sumptuously sculptured nails; while mats are of the finest kind, trimmed white and red with the imperial braid. Within, the sliding screens which at will divide most of the space into small or large chambers, are of drab silk, spotted with gold dots, in form of clouds. There is no furniture, except a few low red lacquer tables.
The private suite of the Mikado saddens the soul, so small, and dismal, and uncomfortable are the rooms, or rather hutches, with no prospect or view outside, but three bare walls, a flag-pavement, and half-a-dozen bushes; and the mind turns involuntarily to the thought of Spanish Queens, whose drear existences must have been hilariously gay when compared with those of the Mikados. Sure many of these must have gone melancholy mad, or have sought relief from despondency by drowning care in the saké-cup. For the better protection of the Fountain of Honour, the two closets he inhabits are buried away in the centre of the labyrinth. There is nothing for him to hear but low, respectful sibillation, and the tramp of guards; nothing to see but nobles sprawling on their faces, with a glum background of whitewash, and a few tortoises wandering over the stones.