The terrible heat, and partly their own feelings, must have overpowered these two beldames, for they remembered nothing further until they found themselves out in the yard by the well, drenched from head to foot with several buckets of water which the smith had thrown over them. With a grim smile he said he thought they were satisfied with their visit; and while he gave it as his opinion that the air of the smithy hardly agreed with them, he added that if he ever heard of their expressing any further curiosity, he would certainly be ready to contrive means of giving them another glimpse of his workshop. Then, without further ceremony, he conducted them to the gate, which he closed in their faces, leaving the poor drenched women, chattering with cold and still shaking and quaking with fright, to find their way home as best they could. It was said that from this day the henpecked omochaya found his wife marvellously changed for the better. Queerly enough, although neither of them spoke of their adventure, the affair gradually came to be known and talked about; and the guarded, evasive answers which, although otherwise voluble enough, they gave when interrogated by their acquaintances, only heightened the interest without satisfying it, thereby giving new food for mysterious tales about the smith.
SWORD-GUARD.
CHAPTER V.
Among those who were smitten by O Tetsu’s charms was no less a person than the old Duke Ono ga Sawa himself. Being already married, he could only offer her the position of first concubine,—which, however, in Japan implies nothing of dishonor and very little even of inferiority. The position of a first concubine, or second wife, as she is sometimes called (and even that of those who follow her), is a legitimate one, recognized by law and custom. She ranks next to the first wife; and if the latter fail to bear male children, the concubine’s son succeeds to his father’s titles and honors. With the exception, perhaps, of two or three of the very highest families, there were none in the province but would have been greatly pleased and gratified at such an offer for their daughter. Still, the Duke was hardly sanguine, for a few hints to this effect conveyed to Muramasa had fallen upon what appeared to be very unresponsive soil. Forced to act more directly, he appointed a duly accredited nakōdō. For this office he selected—doubtless purposely—a superannuated court noble living in retirement upon a small pension, and who, although aware of the smith’s merit, was yet only partially acquainted with his position and pretensions. This, as well as the ill success which had attended all others who had preceded him on similar errands, he only learned when, flushed with pride, he informed—in strict privacy, of course—some of his younger court friends of his appointment. Their responses, unanimous as they all were, sadly dampened his expectation of a quiet and successful issue to his mission, and clouded his hopes of the benefits and advantages which would result therefrom, not to speak of the Muramasa sword, which in the first flush of sanguine excitement the envoy felt certain of receiving from the man to whom he offered such an eligible position for his daughter. He almost began to regret that he had been chosen by the Duke. Still, having once accepted the duty, he had no choice; and trusting not a little to his own power of persuasion, he started on his errand.
INKIO. (RETIREMENT FROM WORLDLY AFFAIRS.)
Contrary to precedent, and far in excess of anything he anticipated, he was extremely well received. His host, who could not but be aware of his errand, at once invited him into the best room. Tea and wine were brought in; and as in Eastern countries the matter in hand is never immediately introduced, but only approached gradually, other subjects, and naturally swords, were discussed first—and last. The host, usually so sparing of his words, seemed this day to put no restraint on his tongue. Every attempt on the part of his visitor to approach the matter that had brought him to Senjuin was the signal for Muramasa to recount the story of some glowing feat of arms, of some wonderful exploit of Japan’s great heroes, or of some marvellous piece of fencing or swordsmanship. The enthusiasm naturally engendered by such subjects, not unmixed with anxiety and a lingering fear that his object was in no way furthered by what he could not help listening to with pleasure and even with rapture, caused the envoy to resort to the wine-cup more frequently than agreed with the sober habits which a small income necessarily imposed. He did this with such effect that in the course of a few hours he had completely forgotten the object of his mission. He began to entertain the smith with an heroic recital of the exploits of his own youth, which with every succeeding cup trenched more and more on the marvellous; and when at last he took his leave, being escorted to the door by his host, he was still talking and gesticulating, although in a confused way, and the servant who had accompanied him found it difficult to induce him to enter his chair.