“What shall I say?” she plaintively whispered.
“Name your possessions. He has given you jewels, money even. Yes, it is so—is it not?”
The woman nodded. Her lips began to quiver like a child about to cry. The geishas and the apprentices had crowded in a circle about them, and now they seemed to hang in suspense upon the words of the Okusama.
“It is—so!” she faintly said.
“Will you not give them to me?” pleaded the Spider. Then, as the woman drew back timorously, she cried: “Quick, now, while you remember where they are!”
Her eyes were on the Okusama’s, hypnotically compelling her. Slowly the woman tottered to her feet. She staggered across the room, supported on either side by the geishas. She came to the east wall, felt along it till her fingers found a secret panel, pushed it aside, found an inner one, and still an inner one, and still an inner one. Then she drew out the lacquer safe, and, with a conciliating smile trembling over her vacant features, she opened the casket and poured the jewels into the lap of the Spider. Moonlight looked at them with glittering eyes of excitement. Then she spoke to the geishas.
“You all have heard of Oka, the great and just judge of feudal days. You know how it was he decided the parentage of a child whom two women claimed. He bade them each take an arm of the girl and pull, and the strongest should prevail to keep the child. Alas, the poor mother dared not pull too hard lest she hurt her beloved offspring, and preferred to resign her child to the impostor. Thus the judge knew she was the true mother. Maidens, in the city of Kioto there are judges as wise as Oka, but much money is needed to obtain the services of those who must bring the cases before them. Come, little Omi, we set out now upon a long and perilous journey!”
“The gods go with you!” quavered the geishas, wiping their tears upon their sleeves.
“Ah, may all the gods lead and protect you!” sobbed the Okusama.