Chapter VII

Saitō Dōzō, in his admiration of Katsuno’s heroic deed, had it in his mind to save the girl from the consequences of her rash action; but as a samurai it did not accord with his honour to do so. This for two reasons; one being that he had refused to deliver up Shichiroyemon when asked to do so by Nobuyuki; and the other because it was a disgrace to him personally that a warrior under his protection should have been killed by a woman. Therefore, he gave orders for the close confinement of the culprit, directing that she should be strictly watched and guarded night and day.

Now that she had accomplished her long-cherished desire, and had sent word to that effect to Lord Nobuyuki, Katsuno no longer had anything to trouble her, and awaited her sentence with a tranquil mind.

One evening she was arranging some wisteria flowers which had been brought to her by one of the samurai, appointed to keep guard over her, when without any announcement Lady Saitō came into her room.

“How tastefully you have arranged those flowers, Katsuno!” she said. “Have you recovered yourself?”

The girl smiled.

“Yes, thank you, my lady; having attained my object, I have nothing left to wish for, and am ready to meet my fate.”

“You are a pattern of womanhood! How I admire you! It is unbearable that one so virtuous should be subjected to the ignominy of imprisonment for so long. I have repeatedly implored my lord for your release, but as yet without avail.”

“You are too good; but I have no hope of release, and I am ready to die.”

“Your death would serve no end, and I do not intend to let your life be sacrificed. Listen,” she came nearer and whispered in Katsuno’s ear, “I have managed to get your guard sent away on some pretext, and to-night, Katsuno, you shall escape.”

“Indeed, no, my lady; that cannot be! I am quite prepared for death. Without Hachiya my life is nothing to me, and should his lordship discover what you had done his wrath would be terrible,—What might he not do to you!”

“Have no fears on that point. It is not likely my lord will suspect that I had any hand in your escape, but at the worst he will not kill me. Do not think of me, but fly!”

“But, my lady,...”

“Oh, how obstinate you are! Why will you throw your life away? Katsuno, as your mistress, I command you to escape this night!”

Seeing her mistress would take no refusal the girl gave in, and they proceeded to discuss plans.

“And when you are safe, Katsuno, how will you spend your life?”

“I shall become a nun and spend my life praying to Buddha for the peace of my dead husband’s soul.”

“An admirable resolve, but foolish! Have you no love for your parents?—for your family and home? Ah, forgive me, your parents and brothers are dead? I did not mean to cause you pain. But do you not see that in that case it is impossible for you to give yourself up to a life of devotion? Who then could carry on the family name?”

“But, your ladyship, I became the wife of Hachiya....”

“Yes, yes, but you were only betrothed! If you had married him really, the case would be different,—an engagement is nothing. No other woman would have considered it necessary to avenge his death. Your faithfulness has been demonstrated by your heroic deed. Your devotion will be handed down to posterity as a model for all wives to admire and emulate, but now that is over; other duties remain.”

“What would you have me do, my lady?”

“You must marry.”

“A second marriage!”

“No, a first; as you told me yourself you were never married to Hachiya, so who can blame you or call you a faithless wife if you contract a marriage with another man? Even Hachiya in the spirit world would approve of it.”

Katsuno thought over these words. It was true according to the ideas in which she had been brought up that it was her duty not to let her family name die out.

“You are right,” she said at length. “If I escape I will not refuse to marry.” But she sighed, for her heart was with Hachiya.

“I was sure you would be sensible. And now hear what I have to say; a near relative of mine, Ōsuga Katsutaka, a retainer of Lord Tokugawa of Mikawa province is looking for a wife. He is only twenty-seven, yet he is distinguished for his scholarship, bravery and above all his military achievements. He has a great future before him, and, what counts with a woman before all things, he has very good looks! Will you marry him? I have already sounded him on the subject and he is anxious you should be his wife. Do not reject such a good offer.”

Katsuno was silent, partly because of maiden modesty, and partly because it was too momentous a question to be decided without due consideration.

“Why do not you answer? What is your objection? I assure you that Ōsuga is every thing that can be desired; you would never regret marrying him—he is so brave and learned! But what is most important in your case, if you have two or three children by him you can adopt one of them to succeed to your father’s house and carry on the family name.”

“I am deeply grateful to you for all your kindness, my lady. I will do as you advise; you are wiser than I, and you know what is best.”

“Then you agree? That is right, you are a good girl, Katsuno, and deserve to be happy, as I know you will be with Ōsuga. But it is getting very late and it is time you went. A palanquin is ready with ten strong footmen to convey you to the home of Ōsuga. I am sorry to part from you but it has to be, Farewell.”

As she spoke, Lady Saitō handed Katsuno a letter addressed to Ōsuga Katsutaka, and a packet of money for her travelling expenses. The girl accepted them with many thanks, and bidding farewell to her mistress made her way to the postern gate from whence she safely effected her escape from the castle arriving at her destination without adventure.