The good news of this concession was brought to me by Satsuma on the morning of my wedding day, and it added no little to my rapturous anticipations. Overcome with joy, I went out into the gardens and wandered about, neglectful of my duties, lost in a maze of blissful visions. But presently the old Prince sought me out and sobered me with his paternal reproof.
“Is it so that Woroto prepares himself for matrimony?” he asked. “On the day of all days when a man should think reverently of the family, my son has neglected to stand before the shrines of his forefathers.”
I kowtowed to the ground. “The rebuke of my august parent is just. I will go at once.”
He restrained me with a gesture as I rose to hasten in. “Stay, my son. It is well for you to realize that what you have set your heart upon with such strange ardor is not certain of attainment even now.”
“Not certain!” I cried. “You bring ill news from the palace?”
“I have not been to the palace. From all I know, your day’s fortunes are as bright as is this sky after the rain.”
“Yet you say—?”
“Have you then failed to grasp the characteristics of your new people, Woroto? Do you forget that the times when we should most expect our enemy to strike are the hours of our greatest joys and triumphs? Your audience as Prince of Owari brought you the flask of poisoned sake.”
“Namida!” I murmured, seized with vague dread. “You have heard of another plot! Keiki plans to rob me of my bride! Yuki has brought word again from Kohana!”
“Nothing has been heard of any plot. Yuki brings no word from the geisha. He committed the grave error of leaving in the street the hollow arrow in which she shot out to him the message of the poison plot. If it was picked up by the Mito men, we have the explanation why no more arrows have dropped beside the ronin. The girl will render no further service to Owari.”