“My lord,” she whispered, “such praise is as far above my worthlessness as the sun above the abyss. May Kwannon grant me the joy of serving my lord for the space of seven existences!”
“For all time, Azai—we shall be linked together in mutual love and service! We are fated to be united throughout eternity.”
“My lord!” she murmured, and she turned to bend to me, her dark eyes beaming with unutterable love and devotion.
“Look to the front!” I warned her, and again I pointed to the garden as if remarking upon one of the dwarfed trees. She recovered her composure on the instant. Yet I perceived that the situation was more difficult than I had the right to require of her. I turned to the rear and remarked: “Among my people it is customary for ladies to entertain visitors with music.”
Azai turned about also, and made a sign to Setsu. The girl went out with a companion and brought in a koto, an instrument resembling a large horizontal harp or zithern. This was an agreeable surprise to me. So far I had heard only the samisens of the geisha, and their notes are particularly discordant to Occidental ears.
Now I was to hear the instrument of the samurai ladies, played by none other than Azai herself. She adjusted the ivory plectrums upon her plump little fingers and, kneeling beside the koto, began to play. Though mostly in the minor key and full of quick transitions that were often discordant to me, her music had many passages of plaintive sweetness. My enjoyment may have been due in part to the personality of the player, for the Occidental ear is not attuned to Oriental music. Yet the koto is certainly far more harmonious than the twanging samisen.
When the Princess finished playing, I called for writing materials, and attempted by means of words and drawings to describe the harpsichord and pianoforte. I used one of the chests as a table for drawing my figures, and it was necessary for Azai to kneel across from me that she might bend near enough to follow the lines I drew to illustrate my explanations. It was natural that our glances should meet. I saw my soul in her sweet eyes.
In the midst, one of the wall screens at the foot of the room was flung open, and Gengo the chamberlain entered, insolently erect.
“His Highness the Tycoon commands the presence of the tojin,” he announced.
“Kwannon!” gasped Azai, and she sprang up to interpose her slender figure between me and the chamberlain. “My lord—I fear! Should it mean—the worst—I will rejoin my lord!”