The older one. Her heart---or what served as such--went straight out to him; and from her worldly point of view, in which inclination and interest seemed in unaccustomed fashion to mingle, she decided, as rustic Miné had done before her, that he, and he only, should be her master. The handsome stalwart fellow, bronzed and weather-worn, his brow crossed by a deep and honourable cicatrice! A typical soldier he, whom 'twould be a joy to love. The other one? Well, handsome too, but ill-tempered evidently; as rich in scowls as a tiger in stripes; a wild beast, whose taming might amuse. And yet toying with wild beasts is dangerous, for when they scratch they tear. Brothers apparently. The wife of which was the patrician lady? For a second the world-worn geisha felt the prick of a curious and new sensation. Could it be jealousy? If she were the wife of the soldier, she was a rival whom it would be necessary to fight and crush. Cold--almost inanimate; a doll--stupid probably--entirely wrapped, like so many of her station, in contemplation of the family tree. Pooh! an absurd rival; for sure no man could love an icicle. Were they newly married? This bridegroom with the scar was delectably attentive to his bride. How mawkish! And then the observant little woman noticed that the scowls of the younger brother were specially turned upon the icicle. Why was that? There was an air about him of discontented proprietorship. Suddenly she became aware of the richness of his attire as he took his place in the centre, amid the bows and genuflections of the spectators.
So the younger of the twain was the Daimio, and the icicle his wife. What a pity that it was not the elder. It was with a twinge of genuine regret that the geisha turned from the bronzed hero to examine the chief of the clan. A forbidding savage! Clearly he did not love the icicle. He was fancy free. Inclination and interest as usual did not mingle. Heigho! must we always throw over romance for the better filling of our pockets? An unsatisfactory world, in sooth, where things have such a provoking way of clashing. A good-looking aristocratic person this head of the clan, if cross.
"I did well to drop my foolish prayers; this is the moment for business," she inly murmured. "I shall have first to ensnare the chief, and his stalwart brother after."
Her line of action thus promptly and practically decided, the young woman prepared her batteries.
Even No-Kami, with much cause, as he told himself, for displeasure, could find little room for carping in the attitude of his consort, now frozen into compliance with his mandate. She had, as it were, gone out of herself, leaving a stiffened body, moved by automatic springs. Condemned to do awful penance, she walked mechanically, leaning on the arm of her brother, who glanced from time to time at her, with mixed satisfaction and surprise. He had dreaded lest, her task beyond her strength, she should quail and break down, object of derision to samurai; but no--the struggle was past--the blood of the Daimios of Nara asserted itself. Of what use was it for a girl to struggle against destiny? What must be, will be, despite our feeble protests. To beat soft palms against a wall is but to bruise and maim them. One who drowns, battles with futile strength among the waters, then drifts quiescent beyond the pale, power of resistance gone.
The watchful warriors smiled, relieved, behind their iron-mounted tans, as silently they dropped into their places. For once their chatelaine was as chill and disdainful and impassable as the chatelaine of Tsu should be.
No-Kami cast his eyes, gleaming tawny with malice satisfied, over the throng. He was well-pleased. As a pageant the affair was a distinct success, for, hemmed round by the swart square, his vassals were learning a lesson of fear that should stem their insolence in future.
The executioner and his aids stood ready on their lengthening shadows, chosen from among the Etas for their breadth of beam. Their athletic bodies stripped to the waist, dark as burnished bronze, tatooed in intricate designs, with loins girt up, and hair loosely knotted, and sandalled feet apart, they awaited the signal of their lord.
The Daimio raised his arm; the shells sent forth a blast, and at the warning all heads were turned, for there appeared from among the grey and ghostly trees the sad procession of the doomed.
First, with chains about their ankles, and wrists fast bound, came the unlucky officials who for too slavishly literal obedience were to serve as a sop to the people. A purr of applause, a drawing in of the breath, like the sibillation of the plashing wave, went round the throng, as the heads of the condemned were severed; for there is no denying that it is delicious to enjoy the discomfiture of foes. But this act of popular justice accomplished, there was a pause, and then the assemblage, changing its tone, sent up a protesting moan of tribulation, accompanied by tears; for, smiling, with head well poised and brawny shoulders bare, the patriot, who was one of themselves, advanced to martyrdom. By his side, in mien as brave as he, walked in her best kimono his wife, the hapless Kennui, leading in each hand a child, pathetically crowned with simple field-flowers. Ah me! How grievous a spectacle was this of innocence marching to the slaughter.