CHAPTER VIII.
[DESTINY IS BUSY.]
When the slow procession of armed men with a guarded litter in its midst was discerned approaching Tsu, great was the curiosity excited, for though none spoke of him, the absent farmer, devoted to a forlorn hope, was uppermost in the minds of all. A vague report gained ground that he had actually been permitted to see the face of the Sublime One, who, as just as he was holy, had listened to the tale of wrong. The stricken people, accustomed to adversity, were dazed by the gleam of fortune. Buddha had hearkened at last unto their groaning, had pitied their misery! The Hojo was not so bad after all, for the extra weight of taxes would doubtless be removed; the elders had returned forgiven; Koshiu was coming in triumph to his home, where a fitting reception should be accorded him. The listless men rose up upon their feet, the hammer and the gong resounded once again, amid blessings on the name of Koshiu.
The only one who was not joyous was Kennui, the farmer's faithful wife. She had heard so much from her spouse about the wickedness of the Hojos, that unconsciously she echoed his words, shaking her head as she muttered, "The Hojos know not mercy!" As the approaching procession became clearer to the view, defiling with clank of iron down the street, she gave a wild shriek, and fell swooning; for in the litter, under the fatal net, she had recognised the grizzled head and burly shoulders of him she loved best on earth. Awe-stricken, fearing they knew not what, the town turned out en masse and silently followed the procession, until, crossing the bridge that led over the outer moat of the castle, the ponderous doors closed upon it and the prisoner. For, strange and incomprehensible as it appeared, there was no doubt that Koshiu was a prisoner. The net and chains, and scowling escort told as much. Why? Was the report a false one? Had he not succeeded in communicating with the Sublime One? Sure he who was the Fount of Honour had not spurned the humble prayer! If he had been gracious, why was the victim brought to his home with sinister pomp and circumstance? While the crowd in scattered knots were discussing the enigma, the gates opened again, a band of samurai rushed forth, and presently returned with--wonder of wonders!--Kennui and her little children, who, driven at point of spear, like the farmer vanished.
Curiosity and impatience were getting the better of alarm, and some of the elders were about to cross the bridge, and knocking, make inquiries, when again the door swung upon its hinges, a man posted up a paper, and the gate was again shut to. A thrill of horror and consternation shivered over the crowd, as some one, mounting on a riding block, read aloud the proclamation. Crucifixion for the patriot and his innocent wife--the annihilation of his family and name! The injustice and brutality of such a sweeping sentence cried aloud to Heaven. Japan should ring with it. Come what might, the elders would remonstrate,--would lift up their voices in supreme protest against the iniquity of the cold-blooded tyrant.
The head men of the town and surrounding villages assembled, one hundred and thirty in number, and drew up an appeal, affixing thereto their seals, and Rokubei and Zembei, whose consciences smote them somewhat, travelled with it themselves to Kiŷoto. There the streets were in commotion, business was put aside, and men sat on the mats in groups discussing the darkening future. In whispers, with furtive glances over the shoulder, they murmured that there must be an end of it; anything was preferable as a change to such a life as No-Kami prepared for the people. Submission was making matters worse instead of better. Letters must be sent to the surrounding provinces. They must shake off sloth, and rise as one to free themselves and their Mikado.
Sampei, riding to the Golden House, told his brother of the hubbub. As he heard, the brow of the despot darkened; his eyeballs became bloodshot, like those of the demon Razetsu, as in obstinate fume he gnashed his teeth.
"What?" he cried. "Oh, girl in man's attire, I have borne too long with your puling! You dare to come hither, and take the part of the scum against me, your feudal lord! A shivering coward, who calls himself a soldier! Not a word more, or, despite the army at your back, I'll have you seized and scourged, and your head flung to the jackals."
Hot words rose in Sampei's throat, but the mournful face of his pale love rose before him, and he choked them down. His brother was distraught with passion,--knew not what he said. His feudal lord! Yes, that much was true. If danger was brewing, his place was by the side of his brother, to save him, if might be, from the consequences of the wickedness instilled by demons; if not, to assist him in his death.
The silence and sullen submission of the young General irritated the Daimio to frenzy. He cursed and growled like some savage animal, became the more furious from the conviction that in this matter he had been precipitate and wrong,--had been guilty of a mistake in state-craft,--of over-harshness. And yet it would never do to give to the scum the victory--to the low mechanics, and mean, unarmed artificers, who were assuming a threatening attitude. What would the other daimios say, who were eagerly watching the next move, if the ruler were again to give way,--to succumb like a woman before the outcry of a few rustics? The prestige of the Hojos would be gone for ever, and the bearer of the name would be sucked under and drowned by the torrent which would assuredly break loose. Give way! That, by the crown of Buddha, he swore he never would; and yet, perceiving too late the danger, in his heart he longed for a compromise. Hearing that Rokubei and Zembei, venerable elders, had dared to come pestering, and that a deputation of priests, headed by the bonzes of Tsu, awaited his pleasure, he smothered his rage, and bade Sampei admit them. He even deigned to summon his father's friend, and solicit counsel, placing the case before him.