A muttered word, or rather ejaculation, unintelligible to those present, was the old samurai’s only reply as he returned to his seat,—in which, however, he moved round, so as partly to turn his back to his companions. No one spoke. The men present were mostly veterans, men of action and not of words; and every one was considering the circumstances of the case, revolving within himself what had best be done before he gave tongue to his thoughts. The dead silence, which was in strange contrast with the sound of laughter and revelry borne to them from other parts of the house, was gloomy, and had begun to be oppressive, when it was broken by the sound of something trickling on the mats. All started, but Sennoske was the first to divine its terrible import. A single bound brought him to the side of Yamagawa; but it was too late. The latter on turning round had arranged his dress in conformity with the rule on such occasions, and had quietly and noiselessly committed hara-kiri. He had done it deliberately and carefully, and the wound which he had inflicted upon himself was the regulation cut of six inches in length by one inch deep.
ARROWS AND MILITARY HEAD-DRESS.
CHAPTER X.
The first great grief which his young life had known now came upon Sennoske as he knelt by the side of his old attendant. A thousand recollections of the watchful care, kindness, and unvarying zeal and attachment of Yamagawa overwhelmed him, until he became thoroughly unmanned, and could only sob in a broken voice: “Oh, Yamagawa! why have you done this to me?”
“Listen to me, Sennoske,” replied the old samurai,— whose present composure and serenity were in striking contrast with his appearance of half an hour before, his face, which showed no evidence of physical pain in spite of the suffering caused by his wound, being lit up by a happy smile at the evident deep-felt love and sympathy expressed by his young master,—“listen to me carefully, for my time is short.” As he spoke, he compressed tightly with both hands the gaping wound from which his blood and life were slowly oozing out. “The great enemy of your house, who has been the cause of all the misfortunes which have befallen it, is now the possessor of your sword. You know him by reputation. It is the notorious Taka Suke, in comparison with whose shameless, brazen-faced effrontery all other acts of Hōjō arrogance might well be characterized as humility itself. Here in my lap is my kakioki, my last will and testament, addressed to you, explaining everything. It was to be given to you in case of my death. Take it now and read it aloud.” Seeing that Sennoske, with his hands before his face, was still sobbing bitterly, he motioned to another of the party to do what he had asked; and the man addressed, an old soldier, at once complied, taking the document and reading as follows:
“It is now nearly twelve years ago that a quarrel broke out between the Dukes of Ando Taro and Ando Goro, in the province of Mutsu; this quarrel assuming considerable proportions, the Hōjō government at Kamakura sent out Taka Suke with full powers to arbitrate and judge between the contending parties. He was comparatively unknown at that time, and was received by both Dukes with marks of great distinction, as became his mission, and, as is the custom, with lavish gifts. But whatever was presented to him was like a few kernels of rice thrown to a famished dog, it only whetted his appetite for more. In the most barefaced manner he and his satellites asked for more and more, and received it indiscriminately from both sides. His chamberlains, his mistresses, his servants down to the lowest horse-boy and scullion, all had to be fed over and over again.
SENDING A PRESENT.