Junzo glanced uneasily toward the balcony. A moonbeam shone upon the gilded cage, depending from an eave by its long chain. The artist shuddered and paced restlessly about the path. Suddenly he came back to Fuji. His voice had a despairing note within it.
“Why did she do it, lady? Do you know the reason?” he asked.
“Do what, Sir Artist?”
“Cage up the bird, when it was hers already, captive to her will to come or go.”
“A mere caprice, artist. One day she made a sudden exclamation of delight as though she had but just perceived the nightingale for the first time. ‘Oh, see the joyous, pretty bird!’ she said, ‘and hear it sing!’ It was at this time upon a camphor tree close by, and singing, in its own free way, a serenade no doubt to her. ‘Why,’ said the Countess Matsuka, ‘’tis your own nightingale, your Highness.’ ‘Mine!’ said she, and seemed to pause bewilderedly. Then suddenly she clapped her hands. ‘Oh, yes, for sure it is mine. Where is its cage?’ ‘Why, here,’ said Countess Matsuka, who at this time alone attended her. The princess put her hand upon the cage, then, leaning from her balcony, chirped and whistled for the bird in such an odd and unfamiliar fashion that the countess was amazed, and still more so seemed the bird, for, pausing in its song, it cocked its head, fluttered its wings in sudden agitation, and then it spread them wide and flew away. The princess was so disappointed she wept in childish anger, though Countess Matsuka assured her it would return at dark, and take its night perch in the cage. ‘And will it stay?’ asked Sado-ko. ‘Why, princess, just as ever.’ Then she said she would not trust the bird, and on that very night, waited in person for its coming. With her own royal hands she trapped it in the cage and closed the door, though it was said her maiden, Natsu-no, implored her on her knees to spare it. Since then the maiden scarcely speaks, and like the bird is said to droop.”
The artist smothered a deep groan.
“Do you not like the story?” asked the lady.
“I cannot believe it,” he replied.
“Then look upon the cage yourself.”
“It hurts my sight. I will not,” said the man, and then he added, deeply, “It is an evil omen.”