Chapter II

It was a fine afternoon in autumn; in the gardens of the castle of Iwakura, the glowing maple leaves and vari-coloured chrysanthemums were in the height of their beauty.

To-day being the anniversary of the death of Nobuyuki’s father, all the inmates of the castle had been busy since the early morning with religious services, and a visit to the deceased’s grave; to-night a banquet was to be given to all the samurai.

It was now about four o’clock, and several maids-of-honour who had retired to a private chamber to enjoy an interval of rest were talking volubly.

“What chatterboxes you are, maids! You prattle like sparrows.” This from O-Tora who entering at this moment made the sneering remark that effectually put a stop to the gay talk. As she seated herself, one of the girls, a saucy young thing, ventured to say with a demure smile. “But, Madame, women are chatterboxes by nature, aren’t they? ‘Nightingales visit plum-blossoms’ and ‘Sparrows and tigers visit bamboo groves’; so we chattered like sparrows hoping Madame Tora (tiger) might be induced to come to us.”

At this repartee the rest of the maids burst into peals of laughter and even the cross-grained duenna could not refrain from a sour smile.

“Your mention of sparrows reminds me of Takané (the name of a white-eye)” said she. “It seems the bird has not uttered a note all day. Has it been fed?”

The girls started guiltily, for so busy had they been all day they had quite forgotten to attend to the bird, a great pet with their lord who had received it, together with other gifts, from the Shogun in recognition of his military services. Nobuyuki dearly loved the bird for the sake of its song, in addition to which he prized it on account of its donor.

O-Tora, observing the consternation of the maids, revenged herself on them by saying spitefully:—

“You had better have kept your idle chattering till you had fulfilled all your duties, you good-for-nothing girls.”

“It is a shame to have forgotten all about the poor little bird!” said Katsuno, who was with her companions.

“Poor thing, how hungry it must be! I will go at once and give it some food.”

Stepping down into the garden, she went to an old plum-tree, and stretching up her arms took the beautifully ornamented cage of the bird off the branch on which it hung. As she did so the hook came off and the cage fell to the ground, with the result that the door came open and the little prisoner with a glad twitter escaped. With a cry of dismay the girl ran after it, but too late; the bird had already made its way through the trees and was now flying far away across the blue sky rejoicing in its freedom.

“What have you done, Katsuno?” cried O-Tora, from the verandah. Inwardly glad of this golden opportunity to carry out her dark scheme of getting Katsuno into disfavour, she yet cunningly concealed her delight under cover of fear and consternation. “Alas! You have let Takané fly away. Dear, dear, what carelessness! How could you do it!”

Katsuno, gazing up at the fast disappearing bird, seemed half stupefied. At O-Tora’s words she came to herself, and then overwhelmed with thought of the consequences staggered a little and fell wailing to the ground. Her young companions standing on the verandah uttered exclamations of amazement, but none of them came to her aid, or attempted to console her. “What will you do, Katsuno?” continued the old vixen, who had by this time come down to where the unhappy girl lay, and seized her by the neck of her garment. “You know Takané is not a common bird, but a treasured present from His Highness the Shogun. Do you realize what you have done in letting it escape? Can you atone for your fault simply by a few tears? What can you do to repair the injury you have done to me, for it is I who shall be blamed,—I shall be considered responsible for this misfortune! Come, get up, girl, what have you to say?”

“Katsuno, prepare for death!” A loud and angry voice caused them all to start. Informed of what had occurred the hot-tempered Nobuyuki had rushed to the scene, and now with a drawn sword stood over the prostrate girl in a passion of ungovernable rage.

At this critical moment another voice was heard.

“My lord, my lord, wait!” It was the new Prime Councillor, Tsuda Hachiya, who thus ventured to interpose. “Calm yourself, my lord, I beg you. Do you forget the day? Is it not the holy anniversary of the demise of your revered father? Can you sully this solemn occasion with a bloody deed committed in the heat of anger? Restrain yourself and leave this matter to my discretion.”

Nobuyuki’s rage subsided as quickly as it had risen, and his better reason prevailed. At the remonstrance of his favourite he sheathed his sword and retired to the verandah.

By this time most of the retainers had arrived at the castle for the evening’s banquet, and hearing of the incident hastened to the scene. Shichiroyemon was among them and under cover of the confusion whispered something to his accomplice,—then coming forward “How about Katsuno’s chastisement, my lord?” he said. “You act wisely in not inflicting death with your own honourable hands, but as an apology to His Highness the Shogun, and as an example to the clan it is necessary—it is imperative that she should receive condign punishment.”

“W-e-l-l—” Nobuyuki hesitated; then turning to Hachiya, “What is your opinion, Hachiya? Shall I do as Shichiroyemon says?”

“No, my lord. History tells that long, long ago, in the reign of the Emperor Takakura, one cold frosty morning, some thoughtless gardeners cut off a few branches of a beautiful maple-tree of which the young Emperor was very fond, and burned them to warm their _saké_. Fujiwara Nobunari, an official in charge of the tree, greatly shocked at this, bound the offenders hand and foot and reported the matter to the Emperor. The benevolent monarch, however, was not enraged at all, but said calmly, “A Chinese poet sings:—

‘In woods we gathered maple-leaves[2]
‘And burned them to warm _saké._’

I wonder how these humble gardeners have learned to have such a refined taste? What a poetic idea!” Thus the Emperor acquitted the careless gardeners. This is one reason why the Emperor Takakura is revered as a great sovereign even now after the lapse of so many centuries. So I hope and pray that my lord who is as large-hearted as the Emperor, will be lenient with a young girl who through no fault of her own has been so unfortunate as to cause this accident.”

“Enough, Mr. Tsuda!” broke in Shichiroyemon. “You are doubtless a great scholar, and eloquent, but the slack measure you suggest would be a bad precedent. You are always tender and sympathetic with women, but in dealing with a matter such as this we must make no distinction of sex. As well might you pardon the offender who sets fire to the castle and reduces it to ashes, just because she is a woman and it was ‘by mistake’! Is that justice?”

“Your argument is absurd,” replied the younger man contemptuously. “You speak as if severity were a good principle in government. If so, why did Kings Chow and Chieh of ancient China, and the Tairas and the Ashikagas in our own country come to such speedy ruin? Recollect that to-day is the sacred anniversary of the demise of the father of our lord, and therefore it might well have been our lord’s purpose to have set the white-eye free, himself, for the peace of the revered spirit.[3] The fault unintentionally committed by Katsuno has thus led to the humane act of setting a poor caged bird at liberty. I have somewhere read these lines:—

‘Though one loves the sweet songs of a caged bird,
‘Who knows the sadness of its inner heart?’

In my opinion Katsuno has committed no fault in the true sense of the word, but on the contrary, done a good action.”

With the exception of Shichiroyemon and O-Tora, all present listened with admiration to the eloquent pleading of Hachiya on behalf of Katsuno. The black-hearted pair persisted in urging the girl’s expulsion from the castle, but Nobuyuki turned a deaf ear to their arguments, and decided to let the matter rest. Katsuno, all this time on her knees in the garden, now almost worshipped her deliverer in the depth of her gratitude.