Then the two sat down, and the inspired priestess spoke.
"The honour of the family was to be saved by him--Sampei. Buddha himself had deigned to settle it. He must bide his time, and wait and watch, and when occasion offered he must, with his father's dirk, slay the baleful sorceress. With his own hand must the deed be done--not be trusted to a hireling, even to a samurai. It might be some time before the fitting opportunity presented itself, for the braves, whom she still debauched, would defend her doubtless with their lives. There must not be too long delay, lest my lord No-Kami should come home. The avenging hand must be sure and steady; the result not a mere wound, but--death."
Nodding, Sampei placed the weapon in his obi, and, embracing his mother, departed with proud step. It was to be his privilege--by Buddha's own decree--to save the honour of the house,--to rescue his infatuated brother,--to bestow upon the dear O'Tei a measure of future happiness.
Masago, calm now, returned to the temple, and spent the night in vigil. Blessed be Buddha; for his mercy thrice-blessed! He had spoken through the silent lips. The course and conscience of his handmaid were clear as crystal now.
CHAPTER XVI.
[MASAGO TAKES THE REINS.]
Now it came to pass that after the mental torture she had endured, the soul-racking perplexities, the days of prayer and nights of vigil, the strong frame of the Abbess gave way under her burthen. She was deeply thankful for the god's decision,--that her prayers had been heard and answered. But her body was worn out--the lamp was burning low, and she was compelled to remain in her chamber, wrapped in many quilts, with Miné, hapless victim of unrequited love, in anxious attendance on her. That unfortunate maiden had never recovered the effect of the dreadful day,--the massacre of her dear ones,--her parents' departure, unforgiving. She moved about her sacred duties like a phantom, with remorse gnawing at her vitals. No need now to keep watch over her lest she should again fling herself into the reluctant arms of the too fascinating young General. He was no more to her seared heart than any other man, for it had lost all sense of feeling. It was scorched out of life on the day of the massacre, and she bore only its ashes in her breast.
Masago had sunk into that deep sleep which is the greatest boon to unhappy mortality, and Miné, bending over the hibachi, was stirring the charcoal with a rod, immersed in sad reflection, when there entered a certain bonze who enjoyed reputation as a doctor. He was a learned and a holy man, who dwelt in a monastery on the mountain,--was wise of counsel, and learned in the use of simples.
Hearing by chance that the venerated Abbess of Tsu was lying sick, he took his bundle, his lacquered medicine-box, and his staff; put on his tall clogs, and great mushroom priestly hat, and hied towards the convent. Sleep, he observed, after a brief survey, was a better anodyne than simples, and he would therefore await the waking. Warming his fingers: over the glow he chatted with Miné in undertones, exchanged the gossip of Tsu for the last reports from Kiŷoto, inquired of what new atrocity my lord the Daimio had been guilty. Oh, yes; he was aware that my lord was away,--summoned to the capital; and added, with mysterious head-shakings, that a surprise was preparing for his return. "You should be pleased to hear of it," went on the good garrulous old gentleman, "after all that your family have suffered at his hands--'tis only fitting retribution;" and then, chattering in whispers, he proceeded to tell of soldiers' shadowy cohorts, who by night had marched past the monastery. "They are massing troops in all the defiles," he whispered. "Your father's anathema has taken effect. The race of the Hojos is run."
The bonze was so intent upon his tale, and so long-winded in the telling of it, that he, as well as his listener, forgot all about the patient. Though deep wrapt in slumber, she moved now and again uneasily, tossing from off a surcharged bosom the multitude of futons that covered it. Then gradually the sleep-goddess relaxed her embrace, folded her arms less closely, and she of dreams spread forth the shadow of her pinions. The Abbess dreamed a dreadful dream, offspring of trouble and of fever. She thought that her own lord was alive again,--that, covered with crimson stains streaming from many a wound, he stood over dead Tomoyé. Why was Tomoyé dead? In sober truth of history past and gone, it was she who had stood over him. There he stood, however, reeling from loss of blood, his favourite katana hacked and notched from the battle. Then there appeared the boy No-Kami, also gashed and wounded. To her, the sleeper, turned her revered lord, stretching forth imploring hands. "Save him," he hoarsely gasped. "My time and hers is come, and it is well; but he is on the threshold of his life!" She, the dreamer, could not save him, for she was bound herself with cords, the which perceiving, her lord looked down reproachfully, and died; and then from out a crystal brook there rose a silver form that clasped the boy, and his wounds closed,--a slim shimmering form, daughter of the moon, which, shaping itself out of argent vapour, became O'Tei the chatelaine.