Sinking into a condition of dull lethargy, she went forth no more, but brooded in the quiet of her chamber, from which she could see the hill crowned by the temple groves. Dim and distant, like the roar in a sea-shell, she heard the noise of arrival, the neighing of steeds, and clank of iron, the braying of hoarse throats, the shouts and laughter at carousal. With sick apprehension she awaited the dreaded footsteps which soon must cross the threshold. But time went on and it came not, and she thanked the gods for that. He had inquired for her, the maidens said, and they had replied that their lady was ill. He had said no more, and had seemed satisfied. Truth to tell, he was as much relieved as she at the postponement of a meeting. For, worried and annoyed by the abominable behaviour of the scum, he was in no mood for whining, and instinct whispered that on such an occasion as the forthcoming festival the degenerate O'Tei would whine. When it was past and over, she would know better than to whimper, since what is done is done; and once resolved, no whining of silly women-folk should turn him from his purpose. Whilst dreading the creak of one footfall, she listened wistfully for another. Where was Sampei, her childhood's friend? Sure, he would sympathise, for his kind heart would tell him of the direful condition of his sister. Had he, disgusted with his brother, deserted him? It was likely; and yet not so, for Sampei--who should know better than she?--was loyal and true. He had arrived with my lord; the maidens had seen and admired him, and had grieved to perceive that he was dejected, the noble young hero. How strange then that he should not visit his old playmate.
Alack! Sampei avoided O'Tei as diligently as did No-Kami. What could he say to her that would not increase her sorrow? Fully appreciating her highly-wrought and reserved and sensitive nature, he knew too well what she must be suffering; and the sight of her tears, since he might not dry them, would cut him like a sword-thrust. Moreover, the seed his mother had prudently sown had taken deep root in his light soil, by reason of Miné's foolishness. On every account it was well to avoid personal contact with O'Tei. Without being conceited, the fact was patent that if one woman fell in love with him without encouragement, another might. In his ordinary frame of mind, he would cheerfully have said, "The more the better," and have basked with joy in the sunshine of unlimited loveliness. But he knew now that he adored O'Tei with an affection so pure and deep that there was no selfishness in it,--that, rather than cause her a pang, he would himself make any sacrifice. Her heart, he knew, was empty. As the Abbess had hinted, it was not at all impossible that if tempted she might grow to love her brother-in-law in unbrotherly fashion; and then, what pain to her, to him, to all? For once the young soldier would be prudent. Near, but unseen, he would shield his beloved as much as possible,--commune with her as little as might be,--come forward only in emergency.
With regard to No-Kami, he grew grievously perplexed, marvelling sometimes whether his brother was sane. The practice of cruelty upon the weak, for the enjoyment thereof, was something so foreign to his own open character that he could not comprehend the motives which moved the Daimio, nor his fits of frenzy when thwarted. Once, since their arrival at Tsu, he had remonstrated fearlessly with his chief, who had thereupon threatened to dismiss him into banishment. For the sake of the chatelaine, in the quickly-clouding future, this must not be. So Sampei, at his wits' end, like a dutiful son, climbed the temple stairs and unlocked the secrets of his heart before the shrewd ken of the Abbess. Masago surveyed him anxiously, then unaccustomed tears for a moment dimmed her vision as she gave praise to the gods in that she had been given such a son. Truth and trust looked from out his eyes. The noble fellow. Placing her firm white hand upon his shoulder, she kissed his brow.
"The situation is dark," she said; "the skein is tangled. The gods have marked down for destruction my lord of Tsu. That much is clear to me. Blindfold he marches to the edge of the abyss. I am a weak, purblind woman groping in the dark, unable to give counsel in so difficult a strait. My voice has been raised in vain: he thrust us forth like dogs. I will pray. Maybe that through prayer and vigil I may learn to know; and when I know, then will I tell thee, child. Peradventure divine wrath may yet, by diligent pleading, be turned aside. The farmer and his family must perish, thou a dumb spectator. That much cannot be helped. Be patient. Wait. I will prostrate myself before the altar, that the veil of the future may be rent."
One morning a lull of unaccustomed quietude informed O'Tei that my lord and all his following had gone scouring over the plain, and her maids, seeing her listless and sad-eyed, implored their mistress to mount to the top of the tower, and breathe the fresher air. From the upper gallery, shaded by the huge copper roof, the weary recluse gazed over the flat towards the twin hills with an intense longing. Since my lord's coming, she had not visited her summer-house, for she could not bear the sight of the mourning which she knew overhung the town. She yearned to steal forth now and gaze on the lovely view, with its sequestered temple, and placid land-locked waters, and fishers, and sunny islets. Alas! all labour was abandoned. The fishers were too wretched to pursue their avocation. Their boats were drawn up upon the beach untenanted. She could see them, a white fringe upon the yellow. Then, as her eye moved homeward, she started, and cried aloud, and wrung her hands, for down below in the courtyard rose, gaunt and terrible, the symbols of oppression. In a corner of the space within the outer moat stood ready a pair of crosses. The preparations were made then?--the consummation of the tragedy was imminent; and she, cowering and cowardly, had never attempted to stem the new tide of the Daimio's anger. A tacit connivance at this villainy!
Shaking herself as from the drowsy clog of sleep, she swiftly descended the stair with head erect, distended eye, and face as grey as ashes, and, to the surprise of the sentinels, crossed the first drawbridge as one in a trance, and made for the place of execution.
It occupied an extreme corner, far from the huts of the soldiers, and was masked from the path in common use by a belt of trees, concerning which there were fearsome legends. So many terrible events had taken place beneath their shade that they were said to be tenanted by souls of criminals,--to groan at times, and ooze with gore, and be accursed. To the Asiatic peasant all streams and woods are peopled with visionary forms,--are the homes of demons or of angels. It was well known that a sacrilegious cutter had striven once to fell one of these gnarled trunks, and had been blasted as if by lightning. It was an equally established fact that their vicinity impelled to suicide, for many men had, apparently without reason, hung themselves upon their branches, fascinated to self-destruction by some dread and secret spell.
O'Tei passed under their shade, and, shivering, recalled the legend, for though there seemed no wind, they swayed and creaked, spreading gaunt arms over her head, with trails of grey-green spindles, like uncanny mildewed hair. Why she had come she knew not--it was in obedience to no volition of her own. Her heart and temples were throbbing wildly. Within her swimming brain there was room for but one idea. The web of a terrible fate was being spun with ruthless fingers around my lord and her to choke them both. Was she to be permitted again to intervene between him and his victims?--or, to tear the meshes which encircled them, were they destined to writhe in vain? Advocate of mercy, how sweet a privilege! What could she do? Had she the courage to face that sin-stained man? Irresolute and trembling, she stood staring at the crosses, marking their shadows as they lengthened, till, with a gasp and sob, she heard the tread of horses, accompanied by shouts and laughter.
He had returned from the chase--the tyrant--and it was well that she was here. She would try not to fear him,--strive hard to do her duty. They must meet now, and, summoning her puny strength, she would endeavour to push him from the precipice.
The cavalcade swept past in a cloud of dust--a brilliant, uproarious company--and clattered across the moat. Two riders were following a little behind the rest, when one, catching sight of a familiar drapery among the trees, pulled back his horse upon its haunches.