The Yotsuya Kwaidan or O'Iwa Inari / Tales of the Tokugawa, Volume 1 (of 2)

Kwaiba's rage grew and grew with the reading.At Iémon's name he sprang up and made a movement toward the stand on which reposed his swords.Laying a hand on the larger weapon he turned with a scowl—"Ah!This Kwaiba is old, but in vigour he is young.It is for Kwaiba to sport with the women.They are not to make a fool of him."Kibei sharply interposed."Does Kwaiba Dono gain satisfaction by such a vengeance?To Kibei it seems a poor one.A matter so easily to be settled is not to be made a scandal in the ward.Deign, honoured Sir, so to regard it.To punish both at once with death is proper.But is it expedient?Condescend to hear the words of Kibei."

Kwaiba pulled himself up. It was as if some one had dragged him back. His rage departed. A cold malice took its place. He smiled blandly—"One does not quarrel over a harlot. Kwaiba spares their lives. Iémon shall take Hana home—as wife." —"As wife!" Iémon broke through his fear. "Surely the honoured Kashira is unreasonable. This Iémon is but the muko of Tamiya. To demand that O'Iwa San be discarded is going too far. Positively in this matter, though there have been love passages, the most intimate relation has never followed—now or in previous relations." —"You lie!" said Kwaiba coldly. "Furthermore 'tis a matter not passing the period of last night. But that is not to the point. Against Matazaémon this Kwaiba has a grudge—as yet unsatisfied. Through O'Iwa San this shall be paid. With Iémon no harsh measures are adopted. Nay; Kwaiba comes to his aid. You, too, Kibei, shall assist.... Ah! For the ready consent, thanks. Ma! A delicious revenge is that gathered by Kwaiba. O'Hana the harlot takes the place of the Ojōsan. And she loves Iémon! In our feasts Natsumé and Imaizumi get the skin of the omelet; Iémon the centre. Then O'Iwa is to be driven out. To that Tamiya cannot object. He substitutes honey for garlic;[23] O'Hana the flower for the ugly toad O'Iwa. Splendid! Splendid! But how? Ah! Here's Kondō, just in the nick of time. Rokurōbei, aid us with your experience and influence. Aid us with Iémon, who would cleave to the O'Baké."

Put in possession of the facts Kondō was aghast.He had come to the parting of the ways; and under conditions which assured his participation in the plot.At first he turned on Iémon with bitter recrimination."Oh!A virtuous fellow, who would drink a man's wine, lie with his woman, and then preach morality to a household!But the mischief is done.If not the paramour of O'Hana San, everybody believes it to be so...."Kwaiba held up his hands in well-simulated anger.Kibei and Rokurōbei interfered.Iémon's last resistance was broken down.To talk?That is the business of a priest.Soon he was as eagerly engaged in the plot as if he had left the house in Samonchō for that purpose.Said Rokurōbei—"What difficulty does the matter present?Set on Watanabé Gorō to tempt and make love to O'Iwa.He is badly in debt.The handsome man of the ward everyone would suspect her fall.Surprised by Iémon, O'Iwa is driven out as unchaste.This Kondō stipulates that matters go no further. After all O'Iwa is innocent of offence. The husband's full rights are not to be excused. Neither she, nor Watanabé is to suffer injury."

Kibei laughed outright at the idea of a drawn sword in Iémon's hand. Iémon turned the contempt on to Kondō. Sneering, he replied—"The plan is worthless. O'Iwa is chastity itself. In the absence of this Iémon no man is allowed entrance to the house." Kwaiba knitted his brows—"Kakusuké! Kakusuké!" As the chūgen appeared—"Go yonder to the house of Akiyama Chōzaémon San. Say that the Kumi-gashira would speak with Akiyama San." As the man departed—"Chōzaémon is the man. For gossip and malice he is a very woman. Rejoice and he weeps; weep and he rejoices. If Akiyama cannot concoct some plan to get rid of O'Iwa, then no one can.... Alas! O'Hana and Iémon must die by the hand of this Kwaiba. Kibei will give his aid." The old man and Kibei got much enjoyment out of the cowardice of Iémon and the fright of O'Hana. But not for long. Akiyama Chōzaémon, the one-time boy lover of O'Iwa; a long, lean, hungry-looking man, with long, cadaverous face and a decidedly bad eye, appeared with the chūgen Kakusuké close behind. The latter seemed a sort of policeman attending the none-too-willing Chōzaémon. The latter's brow lightened at sight of the company. He owed Kwaiba money. Sending away the servant, Kwaiba unfolded the situation. Said Chōzaémon—"Heigh! Tamiya takes the cast off leman of Itō Dono. Fair exchange is no robbery; Kibei Uji against O'Hana San. Iémon San goes into the matter with eyes wide open. The lady is an old intimate, it is said." This manner of approaching the subject was Chōzaémon's way. He cared nothing for the scowls of Kibei nor the wrath of Kwaiba. He was needed, or they would not have called him to counsel. As for Iémon, he was grateful to Chōzaémon; as neighbour, and for the insult to Kibei and Kwaiba.

Continued the mediator—"The obstacle of course is the O'Baké.O'Iwa is to be driven out.And Watanabé won't answer?Maa!Chastity in an O'Baké!It is a thing unheard of.'Tis such, once of womankind, who seduce living men. Tamiya is now head of the House. O'Iwa once driven out, the property remains in his hands as its representative. She must be forced to leave of her own will. Good; very good. What is it worth to Kwaiba Dono?" —"Look to Iémon for commission," said Kwaiba roughly. "Nay! Nay!" mouthed Chōzaémon. "Kwaiba is Kwaiba; Iémon is Iémon. The two are to be settled with separately. If Kwaiba Dono had gone to extremes at the start no question would have been raised. To do so now, with all present and after discussion, is out of the question. Kwaiba Dono wishes to adopt Kibei Uji; to get rid of O'Hana San. Iémon San has been neatly trapped. He must consent. O'Hana is a woman. She has no voice in the matter. All this is clear. But as to Chōzaémon's labour in the affair; that it is which interests this Akiyama." He gave a sour reprimanding look at Kibei. Then he looked impertinently from Kwaiba to Iémon, and from Iémon to Kwaiba. Iémon in delight nodded assent. Chōzaémon promptly turned his back on him and faced Kwaiba. At first the old man was very angry at the acuteness of Chōzaémon. The sharp, free exposure did not please him. Then the idea of countering on this acuteness made him good tempered. He grumbled—"The ten ryō owing to Kwaiba at the New Year—principal and interest; such is the fee for a successful issue." Chōzaémon held up his hands in pretended horror—"Pay back borrowed money! Is that expected by the Kumi-gashira?" —"Not 'expected,'" put in Kwaiba promptly. "With the seal of Akiyama San the return is assured." Chōzaémon became thoughtful—"It is true. The last loan was under seal.... Too bad.... Well! Well! The conditions are hard. Submission is necessary. The debt will be forgiven?" —"Kibei and Iémon stand as witnesses," replied Kwaiba—"Then how is this?" said Chōzaémon. All put their heads together. Akiyama Chōzaémon went into details. Kwaiba pushed back his cushion; slapped his thighs. "Chōzaémon, you are cheap at double the money. Just the thing! Eh, Iémon, Uji? Eh, Muko San?" All grinned a raptured assent.

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CHAPTER XI

THE PLOT DEVELOPS

For two days Iémon was maturing the preliminaries. He seemed unwell and out of sorts. The third day he did not get up at all. O'Iwa was properly anxious. Said she—"The change in the year is a sickly season. Condescend to take some drug. Allow Suian Sensei to be summoned." Iémon grumbled a dissent. She went on in her enthusiasm—"He is the very prince of doctors. See: here is a salve he recommends; for skin and nerves. O'Hana San, the beautiful concubine of Itō Sama, uses nothing else. He guarantees it on her praise, as means to remove blemishes of any kind or source." Iémon looked up quickly. The connection puzzled and did not please him. Perhaps he noted a puffiness about O'Iwa's face, remembered a repulsion toward marital usages. The women should leave the men to play their own game. He said gruffly—"Suian! A dealer in cosmetics and charms. Have naught to do with his plasters and potions; as cheats or something worse. As for O'Iwa, she is black as a farm hand from Ryūkyū (Loo-choo). O'Hana is fair as the white kikuCan the pastes of Suian Sensei change black to white?"Startled, O'Iwa looked round from the glass into which she was peering.She was taken by surprise.In their personal relations Iémon had always been more than considerate.For some weeks in secret she had been using this drug of Suian Sensei.In childhood O'Iwa had shown something of an epileptic tendency.This had worn off with time.Of late the recurrence had alarmed her.The drug of Suian, at the time anyhow, made her less conscious of the alarmed critical feeling which heralded the inception of the attacks.

Iémon gave her but time to catch the meaning of his insult.He went on—"Probably it is but a cold.Some eggs, with plenty of hot wine, will obviate ill effects.Deign to see that they are prepared." The channel of O'Iwa's thoughts changed. At once she was the housekeeper and nurse, and all solicitude to make him at ease. In the course of the meal of eggs with saké in came Natsumé Kyuzō and Imaizumi Jinzaémon. "Ah! Iémon, pardon the intrusion. Probably the engagement of yesterday with Kwaiba Sama was forgotten.... In bed! A cold? But such is no treatment for the complaint. There should be a cheerful, lively atmosphere.... Ah! Here is the dice box. One can shake dice as well lying down as sitting. Deign to refresh the spirits with play as well as wine." Iémon saw to it that both were available. With surprise at first, misgiving afterwards, O'Iwa heated bottle after bottle of saké. The men did not pay the slightest attention to her presence. Absorbed in their game, there was but a rough call from time to time for wine, addressed to the air, a servant, anybody. At the end of the play Natsumé rose to leave in high spirits. Imaizumi and Tamiya were correspondingly depressed. This was but a first day's procedure. Day after day, for the space of half the month, the play was repeated. Iémon had long since recovered. One day he stood with his hands shoved into the folds of his sash. He was very sober and sour. "Iwa, is there money in the house?" She looked at him in surprise. "Matters have not turned out at all well with Kyuzō and Jinzaémon. This Iémon is a hundred ryō to the bad. With spare cash at hand an attempt can be made to repair the loss."

O'Iwa prostrated herself before him. "May the Danna deign to consider. To Iwa this pastime of gambling seems a very ill one, particularly in a man of official rank. It is fraught with peril; and the offence once known rarely is pardoned. Condescend to hear and forgive the warning of this Iwa." She stopped a little frightened. Iémon was looking at her in greatest wrath and astonishment. "What! Is there argument from wife to husband? This insolence of behaviour crowns the insult of refusal. The very sight of your face is enough to make one sick at the stomach. Boors and bakémono are shut out at the Hakoné barrier. But you—the guards have been put to sleep, and you have slipped through. Shut up! Get the money, or...." O'Iwa crouched at the shōji, in terror and surprise. The insulting words heaped on her pained and tortured. Now she felt the sharp sting of a hand forcibly applied to her cheek. Without a word she left the room. Returning she brought thirty ryō in gold on a salver. Timidly prostrate she presented it to Iémon. "Condescend to pardon Iwa. That she is ugly and incompetent she knows. Did not Iémon accept her?" The man stuffed the gold in his girdle. In reply—"No: Iémon was cheated by Kondō and Chōbei. A plain woman—perhaps; but a monster, a worse than rokurokubi, was never thought of even in a dream.Compensation is to be found.Iémon likes gambling.He will gamble.Have a care to supply the needed funds; and don't interfere."Roughly he shoved her out of the way, and left the house.

For long O'Iwa saw nothing of Iémon; but she heard from him. In fact he was living in semi-secrecy at the house of Rokurōbei. Now this messenger, then that, would come to O'Iwa. "If there is no money—sell something. The bearer will indicate. A supply must be found." Thus one thing after another left the house—to be stored in the godown of Kondō Rokurōbei, to whose clever suggestion was due this way of stripping O'Iwa of all she possessed. With goods and clothes went the servants. In the course of a few weeks O'Iwa was living in one room, furnished with three tatami in lieu of the usual twelve in number. Hibachi, andon (night lamp), the single garment she wore, this was all she possessed in the house. Then at last she saw him. The light dawned on a cold snowy morning of early March. O'Iwa rose, opened the amado, and started her day. About the fourth hour (9 a.m.) the shōji were pushed aside and Iémon entered. He looked as if fresh from a night's debauch. His garments were dirty and disordered. His face was sallow, the eyes deep set and weary, his manner listless. O'Iwa gave him the only cushion in the room. Seated before the hibachi (brazier) after some time he said—"A million pardons: the luck has been very bad.... Ah! The place here seems in disorder. It is not fit for a man to live in." He looked around as one waking from a dream. "No wonder: yet all can be restored. Iémon has surprised you?" Said O'Iwa timidly—"Matters are a little at odds and ends. O'Iwa needs but little; a stalk of daikon (radish) and a handful of wheat (mugi). Does the Danna remain here? If so...." There was a painful hitch in her voice, a puzzled look on her face. She had one bu in cash. In fact she was hoping for the monthly visit of Yosuké the farmer; if there was a farm any longer. She did not know.

"For the night," replied Iémon. "Sleep and food are the essentials of good play. All has been lost in the gambling houses of Shinjuku and Shinagawa, at the Nakanochō. Is there no money in the house?... Evidently not. Deign to secure some, no matter how." He took the silver bu she presented to him. "At least a bath and tobacco can be had. See to it that a meal is ready at even; not much, sashimi (sliced raw fish) and wine. Iémon would play, not eat." With this he rose. O'Iwa heard the sound of the closing gate. Long she remained, her face buried in her knees. In this gloomy situation what was she to do? She looked around. There was not a thing to sell; not even herself. Who would buy the ugly O'Iwa? An idea came into her head. In a moment she was in the street. Soon she stood at the door of her uncle, Yoémon. With this uncle and aunt she had but little to do. Matazaémon had been at daggers drawn with his brother, whom he accused of being a wretched miser, one acquiring wealth by very questionable means for a samurai. In old days Chōbei had been a hired agent of Yoémon. The principal had escaped; the second had to leave Yotsuya and its neighbourhood. The Obasan (aunt) came out at O'Iwa's call. She greeted her niece with surprise. "Oya! Oya! Iwa is a stranger to this house. It has been heard that a splendid muko was received at Tamiya." The old woman looked at O'Iwa shrewdly, and not without kindness. O'Iwa took heart. She made answer—"It is true; of late matters have not gone well. Just now Iwa would ask the loan of a shō (1/5 peck) of rice, together with a bu to buy eels or sashimi[24] It is very rude indeed...." —"Very rude indeed!" said a harsh voice close by. O'Iwa shrank to the outer part of the doorway. The aunt fled to the inner part of the house. Continued Yoémon—"And what is Iwa doing at the house of Yoémon? That there is relationship between them this Yoémon does not recognize. Yoémon never exchanged look or word with his brother Matazaémon, nor does he desire to do so with the issue. Let the Tamiya of Samonchō look out for itself. A muko was taken without aid or advice of Yoémon. A stranger, one practising wayside divination, this fine fellow turns out a gambler and a debauched man, to the ruin of the House. Iwa can look to him; ignorant and foolish woman that she is. This Yoémon would contribute to the needs of a beggar before granting even a single mon to Iwa."

The grating rattled sharply as the angry old man pushed it to and let fall the bar. O'Iwa looked into the dark recess with pained and startled eyes. So much of a recluse she was learning that Iémon had long been the talk of the ward. She turned, and slowly took her way back to Samonchō. Here the reaction came. Strong was the inclination to laugh and weep; too strong for self-control. In alarm she ran to take from the closet the potion of Suian. Its effect was the opposite of what she expected—or perhaps it was taken too late. For an hour O'Iwa writhed, screamed, laughed in her agony. Then she sank into slumber. On awakening the sun was already well past the zenith. She sprang up in alarm. This meal to prepare—the duty of the wife—and not a step taken. It could not be helped. Just as she was, twisting a towel around her disordered hair, she started out to the place of one Kuraya Jibei of the Asakusa Kuramaé no Saka. This man was a lender on the notes from the rice pensions of the samurai—a fudasashi dealer, as these men were called.

The distance was great. O'Iwa was tired out on her arrival. At the entrance the kozō or "boy" hailed her sharply. He waved her off. "No! No! Old girl, it won't do. Nothing is to be had here. Please come back the day before yesterday." He barred the way. Said O'Iwa, shrinking back—"Nothing is wanted of the honoured house. An interview with Jibei San, an inquiry to make. Such the request." Something about tone or manner, certainly not pity, made the fellow hesitate—"Jibei San! A beggar woman wants an interview with Jibei San! How about it?" —"Nothing to be had," answered the bantō's voice. "Tell her to read the white tablet hung before the entrance. It is all the house has to give." In speaking he edged around a little. O'Iwa raised the towel from her face. At once he was on his feet. "Ah! For long the honoured lady of Tamiya has not been seen. Many and profitable the dealings with Matazaémon Dono. Condescend to pardon this senseless fellow. He outrivals his companions in lack of brains. Deign to enter." The kozō was all apology—"Condescend wholly to pardon. Deign to have pity on the ignorance shown. With fear and respect...." Looking into O'Iwa's face he was overcome by his feelings. Bursting with laughter he fled to the front of the shop to stuff the dust rag into his mouth in mistake for a towel. This slight error restored his equanimity. The bantō looked after him with some fellow feeling and much anger. "He is half idiot. Condescend to disregard his rude speech and manner. After all he is but a kozō....What can this Jibei do for the lady of Tamiya?"

"Knowing that the House has dealings with Jibei San, and there being necessity for three shō of rice, it is ventured to ask the loan." Thus spoke O'Iwa. Money, actual coin, was on the end of her tongue, but somehow she could not get the words out. Jibei was not particularly astonished. Since Iémon had taken charge of the affairs of Tamiya, its income was usually discounted well beforehand. Moreover, the rumour of Iémon's gambling was spreading among his connections. Neither Kwaiba nor Akiyama, nor the others engaged, were men to lose sight of the likelihood of fine pickings from the Tamiya. Jibei made prompt answer. "Respectfully heard and understood. It shall be sent.... Ah! It is required now? Matsu! Matsu! Put up three shō of rice for the lady of Tamiya. Its conveyance is to be provided. Place a bu in the parcel. The distance to Yotsuya is great. The kago (litter) men are exacting." O'Iwa's heart leaped with gratitude at the perspicacity of Jibei. He watched her departing figure as far as he could see it. Then he took out a ledger; and against the name of Tamiya he placed a question mark.

It was dusk when O'Iwa entered the house at Samonchō. She gave a start on finding Iémon glumly seated before the fireless brazier. "A fine hour for a woman to be gadding the street. And the meal! Unprepared: excellent habits in a wife! —--" "To the Danna apology is due. This Iwa is much in the wrong. But for the meal money had first to be secured...." —"Then there is money, or means to procure it? Where is it? How much?" —"Nay, the rice is here. This bu is enough to secure eels, sashimi, some delicacy...." She hesitated before Iémon's doubting glare. He was eyeing rice and money. The mark on the bag caught his eye. "Whence was this rice had? And this money? From Jibei, the fudasashi dealer? A visit paid in such garb? Truly the House is disgraced, not only by your ugliness, but by ill conduct. Who could remain in such a den?" O'Iwa threw herself in his way as he rose to leave the room. Clinging to his sleeve she pleaded for pardon, as only a woman can do who has done no wrong. There was an ugly look on Iémon's face as he turned on her. Frightened, she would have fled. Instead she could only crouch like a dog under the blows he showered on her. Then with a violent kick in the groin he rolled her over, and departed.

O'Iwa heard footsteps. Had Iémon returned? Despite the pain, she half sat up in her dread. Kondō Rokurōbei appeared. The portly man held up his hands in horror and benevolence at what he saw. "But O'Iwa—what has occurred? Ah! Kondō has heard rumours of what is going on. The tatami (mats), screens, drawers (tansu), clothes-baskets—the house is completely stripped to satisfy the thirst for the money of others. Now he has descended to blows! Truly he is a miserable fellow." Kondō's voice grew loud in his wrath. "This must not go on. Rokurōbei is responsible to Tamiya, to the ancestors. To be subject to a fellow like this will never do. A divorce is to be secured. Let him depart with his plunder. Let him have everything; only to get rid of him. He is husband, and head of Tamiya. But Kondō will be too much for him. A divorce shall be secured. Itō Dono, the ward chief, is to be interested in the affair. Pressure shall be put on Iémon to grant the letter of divorce." Indignation choked the worthy man. O'Iwa spoke slowly, with pain and effort. "Be in no such haste, Kondō Sama. Iémon has not been a good man. Much is known to this Iwa. He buys women at Nakachō. He buys geisha. He gambles. These are a man's vices. As to these Iwa has nothing to say. She is the wife, for two lives to maintain the house in good and ill fortune. A good wife does not look to divorce to rectify mistakes. With such remedy Iwa has nothing to do. But is not Kondō Sama the nakōdo? Was he not the mediator in the marriage between Iémon and Iwa? Deign to speak as nakōdo. Rebuke Iémon. Cause this gambling to be brought to an end." Rokurōbei could hardly hear her to the end. His testy impatience was in evidence. He broke into protest—"This is complete madness; utter folly. You allow this fellow to ruin the House. He will dispose of the pension." —"The goods, the House, Iwa, all belong to Iémon; to do with as he pleases. Iwa is the wife. She must submit.... Ah! You refuse. Kondō Sama is no longer the friend of Iwa, to act as nakōdo."What had come into the soul of this gentle woman?Kondō in fright shrank back from the look she gave him—"A very demon!The mother, O'Mino, has returned to life.Oni!Oni!You are not human.Kondō assuredly will have nothing to do with O'Iwa, or O'Iwa's affairs."He left her helpless in the middle of her fit.Forgetting in his fright even his clogs, barefooted, he fled from the house in Samonchō.

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CHAPTER XII

KWAIBA'S REVENGE

Kondō Rokurōbei went direct to the council of the conspirators. He found them assembled in the house of Itō. Kwaiba, Iémon, O'Hana, Chōzaémon, Kibei, were drinking saké. Kwaiba as usual was bragging over his prowess in youth extended into age. O'Hana was laughing at him behind his back. Kibei was surly; yet his share of income was assured. Kwaiba roundly berated Iémon for lack of energy. "O'Iwa has been allowed to get the upper hand. Iémon is far too soft to deal with a woman who has been spoiled all her life." Iémon listened in silence, with a rather doubtful smile of acquiescence or contempt. In fact, knowing O'Iwa as he did, he had little confidence in Kwaiba or Chōzaémon, or the methods they proposed. His own plan was maturing. Meanwhile in part it ran parallel. On this assembly burst the discomfited Rokurōbei—"Ah! What an experience! The woman is a very fiend. A new pair of geta, bought but yesterday, and left at your house, Iémon Uji." Iémon looked at Kondō's frightened face and bare feet. Then he burst into a roar of laughter. Kwaiba was indignant. "Is the fright of Kondō San any license to bring his dirty feet on the tatamiDeign, good sir, to accept water for the cleansing.O'Hana San now is inmate of the house of Kondō; yet condescend for the moment to act the mistress here."This was part of the arrangement.With the goods of O'Iwa the person of O'Hana had been transferred to the charge of the honest Rokurōbei.There Iémon had easy and decent access to the use of both.

Said Iémon—"What happened after this Iémon left Samonchō?Kondō Dono has been frightened."Kondō puffed and fumed as he cleansed his feet at the mounting step.He groaned—"Iémon Dono, you are certainly done for. Was it 'three years,' she said? Her face was frightful. This Rokurōbei has no more to do with the affair. He goes no more to Samonchō. Alas! He will never sleep again. Oh! Oh! To be haunted in the next existence by such a rotten O'Baké." Said Kwaiba—"Did Iémon really beat her? He says he did." Answered Kondō—"She could barely move a limb. Of love for Iémon not a spark is left; but she clings to the honour of Tamiya, to the wife's duty to the House. There is no moving her. Rokurōbei is suspect, as not doing his duty as nakōdoLook to yourselves.If she ever gets suspicious of the real facts, has an inkling of the truth—look out for yourselves."

Kwaiba was thoughtful; Iémon was indifferent. None of them could think of aught but the venture already engaged in. A week, ten days, passed. In that time every effort was made to move O'Iwa to consent to a divorce. As Kumi-gashira, Kwaiba summoned her to his house.Before his kindly sympathy O'Iwa melted into tears.The scandalous treatment of Iémon had reached his ears.Why had he not heard of it before it reached such extremes?He looked indignation at his messenger, the one who had brought O'Iwa to his presence, Akiyama Chōzaémon the neighbour of Tamiya, living not far off near the Ten-ō.Said the ward head—"Kwaiba always took this Iémon, or Kazuma, for a scoundrel.A stranger, why bring him into the ward?But now he is master of Tamiya.In the place of the excellent, if obstinate, Matazaémon.Alas!The pension of the House is said to be hypothecated for five years.And the household goods; and separate properties of Tamiya—all gone?"O'Iwa nodded assent, and Kwaiba threw up his hands at such wickedness.At all events he counselled her to consider matters, to accept his aid.He would place her somewhere; in the country and far off from the ward in which Iémon as master of Tamiya in its degradation would always be an unpleasant sight and influence in her life; at least until Iémon could be expelled.With the fellow's past career doubtless this would happen before long. Meanwhile O'Iwa was to pass into one of the wretched, overworked, exhausted drudges on one of Kwaiba's Shimosa farms. From his chief's expressed views Chōzaémon dissented. This was the one man O'Iwa distrusted. He had always shown dislike to her. In defense of her conduct Chōzaémon was too clever to show any warmth. He was the subordinate making exact report to his chief. O'Iwa was completely taken in. This friendly neutrality aroused her every grateful feeling. Said Chōzaémon—"Iémon is a coward. A samurai beats neither woman nor dog. If either are unfaithful to him, he kills the offender. Iémon's conduct has been thoroughly bad. Before the reproaches of O'Iwa San, beaten in argument he has retaliated by beating her to a jelly. Her face bears the marks of his violence. As to her body, my wife answers for it that it is a mass of bruises." —"Is that so?" said Kwaiba in deep sympathy. O'Iwa burst into tears. Kwaiba fumed with rage—"Truly Iémon is not a human being. He has the horns of a demon."

Then the priest Myōzen, of the family temple, the Myōgyōji of Samégabashi,[25] appeared at the Samonchō house. To him O'Iwa looked for ghostly consolation against the ills of this world. Instead he merely chanted the old refrain, harped on the scandal brought on Samonchō by the continued bickering of the married pair. Husband and wife had mutual duty toward each other; but also there was a duty toward their neighbours. Iémon was irreclaimable.... This stranger! O'Iwa San should deign to take the active part herself; not afford this ill spectacle and example to the ward. Like most parsons he was convinced by the noise of his own voice, and spoke with the intense conviction of long rehearsal. O'Iwa heard him out with a curious chill at heart. The graves of her beloved hotoké (departed ones) were in the cemetery of Myōgyōji. The temple had been one of the few generous features, almost extravagances, of Matazaémon. It had profited greatly by his donations. It was the honour of the House against the argument of the priest and the convenience of the neighbours; and all because a bad man had been brought into it. "What the revered oshō (prebend) has said reaches to the heart of this Iwa. Submission is to be an inspiration from the revered hotokéIwa will seek their counsel."Baffled, the priest left the house; veiled censure was on his lips; open disobedience and contempt on the part of O'Iwa.

Said Kwaiba—"Chōzaémon has failed. At least this Kwaiba has saved his ten ryō—and gained one object. Kondō Dono, thanks for your kind hospitality to O'Hana San. Do you propose to adopt her?" Kondō made an emphatic gesture of protest and dissent. He said—"At least Kondō has the security of goods and money for his generous expenditures." —"Both of them belonging to O'Iwa San; just as Kwaiba holds the acknowledgment of Akiyama San." Chōzaémon made a wry face. The prospect of pressure put on him, with all the added accumulation of the months of interest, was not a cheerful one. Said Kwaiba angrily—"Ah! Whoever would have suspected such obstinacy in the O'Baké; she who always was so yielding within her home and outside of it. She seemed to be such an easy mark. It was merely a matter of ordering her out. And now she baffles this Kwaiba of his revenge!" Iémon laughed outright. Kwaiba looked at him with surprise. Was this charlatan playing a double game? Said Iémon—"Fear enters at the words of the honoured chief. Pray condescend to be easy in mind. As yet Chōzaémon has not failed. At least the question can be argued with the Kumi-gashiraIt is left to these principals.Iémon is of better counsel."Then after a silence during which Kwaiba intently eyed him—"To-morrow O'Iwa San leaves Yotsuya.Kwaiba Dono gets his revenge on the late master of Tamiya.Pray remember it, in favour of the present incumbent of the House." Said Kwaiba fervently—"Iémon would be a son to Kwaiba! Is it really true—that the O'Baké will be expelled the ward, in disgrace?" Iémon nodded assent.

On the following day O'Iwa had completed her ablutions. She arrayed herself in freshly washed robes. Then she took her place before the Butsudan. It was memorial day of the decease of the hotoké. Earnestly she prayed—"Deign, honoured hotoké, to have regard to this Iwa. The year has not lapsed since the hand of Iwa was placed in that of Iémon. Now the House is brought to ruin. No heir appears to console this Iwa and to continue its worship, to inherit its revenues. 'Take these in hand. Life lies before Iémon for their enjoyment. His revenue will be ample. Deign but to have the honour of the House in mind, the continuance of its line as object.' Such were the words of the honoured Matazaémon when in life. Unworthy has been the conduct of this trust by Iémon. But divorce is a scandal, always to be avoided by a woman. Return the love of Iémon to this Iwa. Deign, honoured hotoké, to influence his wandering passions toward this child of the House. Cause the husband to return to Tamiya, once more to uphold its rights and influence. Such is the prayer of this Iwa." She rose, placed the offerings, and struck the little bell with the hammer. As she did so a noise was heard at the entrance. Iémon, carrying fishing rod and basket, and followed by Natsumé Kyuzō and Imaizumi Jinzaémon, burst into the room. All three were more or less drunk. Dumfounded O'Iwa looked from one to the other. Imaizumi carried a tub. Kyuzō knocked it from his shoulders. Then tumbled clumsily down on the cask. None of them had removed the dirty waraji (straw sandals) they wore. "Why do so in such a barn?" hiccoughed Kyuzō. "And this saké; Kyuzō found it without, at the kitchen door.Jinzaémon shouldered it.Whence does it come, Iémon San?Faugh!It smells as if the cask had been placed for the convenience of passers-by on the wayside. It stinks. That's what it does." He gave the cask a kick, knocking out the bung. The filthy liquid poured out on the floor.

Iémon appropriated the tub. He seated himself on it. "'Tis the fine liquor of Tamiya. All the house possesses. Iémon is hungry." Opening his basket he took out an eel. He began to skin it. A cry from O'Iwa arrested him. His wife sank down before him in attitude of prayer. "Importunate jade! What would you now? Further advice to a husband who wants but to get rid of the sight of an ugly face? Bah! This lump of a wench is neither good for child-bearing nor for house-keeping; she is not even a good rusu (care-taker)." His knife made a rip in the skin of the squirming animal. O'Iwa laid a hand on his sleeve. With a voice in which sobs mingled with the petition—"To-day is a memorial day of the honoured Hotoké Sama. Deign to refrain from taking life in the house; nay, before the very ihai in the Butsudan. Such deed will cause pain to the Hotoké Sama; bring disaster on the House, perhaps on this Iwa and Iémon San." Iémon fairly roared as he sprang up from the tub—"What! You noisy slut! Is this Iémon to go without food because the hotoké dislikes the smell of eels?... Jinzaémon, can you cook eels?" Imaizumi had sought the rōkaHis round featureless face showed his fright and indecision before this critical quarrel of husband and wife.Of all involved in the plot he was the most unwilling in performance of his rôle.But he answered according to rote—"Iya!Iémon Uji, the office of cook is a special one.Jinzaémon is no cook.He leaves that office to his wife.Moreover the cooking of eels is an art in itself."—"And the artist is here," chimed in the malignancy of Kyuzō."O'Iwa San is noted for her skill."—"Right!"said Iémon."Kyuzō and Jinzaémon have heard the refusal of O'Iwa.Cook this eel—or else Iémon pronounces the formula of divorce against the disobedient wife."

In silence O'Iwa rose.She went to the portable stove.With the bellows she stirred up the fire therein.She did not dare even for a moment to pray at the Butsudan. The skillet was on the fire. The eels were sizzling in the hot liquor. Suddenly Iémon made an exclamation. Taking a towel he grasped the handle of the vessel. The next moment he had forced down the hot pan and its contents on the head of O'Iwa. "Kiya!" With the single cry she fell over backwards, writhing in pain under the infliction of the scalding mess streaming over face, neck, and bosom. Imaizumi fled in dismay. Even Natsumé Kyuzō protested. Seizing the arm of Iémon—"Iémon Uji, you go too far. Don't kill her." "Kill the O'Baké? It's impossible." Iémon spoke coldly. He was the one person of collected wits in the room.

Groaning with agony O'Iwa came to her senses.A man was leaning over her.Half blind as she was, she could recognize Chōbei.His look was grave.His voice was reticent and confused."What has been going on here, O'Iwa Dono?Ah!Chōbei comes at a bad season.Ma!Ma!The house, too; stripped bare to the very boards, and the season still wintry.Truly this Iémon is a beast—a very brute (chikushō).What is Chōbei to do?There is this matter of the honour of Tamiya."He wrung his hands as in great perplexity, glancing sideways toward O'Iwa.The first part of his speech she disregarded.Such talk and consolation were growing stale.That all should pity her caused no surprise.Her situation was not unusual.It was the last words which caught her ear."The honour of Tamiya: Chōbei San?"Chōbei turned away; to put some peppermint in his eyes.Tears stood in them as he turned again to her.O'Iwa was alarmed."What has happened?"She caught his sleeve, drew close to him.He answered—"Chōbei cannot speak.To find O'Iwa San in such dreadful state renders it impossible to explain.Iémon San has gone too far."So he had, from Chōbei's point of view and for his purposes.These young fellows never can keep within bounds; even in abuse of a woman.His resentment was extreme.O'Iwa insisted.Finally the resistance of Chōbei was overcome.Iémon's name was posted at the Kuramaé of Asakusa. He was in debt on every side. As the final blow, he had stolen the seal of Itō Kwaiba and forged an acknowledgment for twenty ryōKwaiba's enmity to Matazaémon was well known.He liked Iémon no better, and would pursue him to the end, force him to cut belly, and accomplish the official degradation and extinction of the Tamiya House (kaieki). "What is to be done?" He turned squarely to O'Iwa. She said—"Itō Dono has been kind to O'Iwa. Perhaps if request be made...." Chōbei laughed. "Itō Kwaiba is always kind to a woman. It is not O'Iwa San whom he hates. But this is an affair between men. He secures vengeance on Matazaémon through Iémon and this official extinction of Tamiya. It is too tempting. He is not to be trusted. No hint of the deed must reach him. Is there no money at the command of O'Iwa San? The sum is but twenty ryō. Iémon brought this news to Chōbei last night. He leaves Edo, to go in hiding, after ... after ... punishing the ... Well! Well! He is a wicked man. Chōbei never suspected such wickedness. But Iémon is not the issue. He represents and can disgrace the Tamiya. There lies the issue. Has O'Iwa San no means, nothing in coin?" —"Less than a bu, sixty mon."She held out the coppers to Chōbei.

Said Chōbei with decision—"There is one resource left. There is the person of O'Iwa San. Deign to go into service at the pleasure quarter. Chōbei is skilful. In seven days these wounds can be healed. Twenty ryō secured, the paper is taken up, the robbery of the seal is never discovered. We can laugh at Kwaiba's anger. All is for the Tamiya." He noted that O'Iwa was hesitating—"It is but as a pledge. The money is advanced on the person of O'Iwa San. A week, ten days, and other sources of loan will be discovered. This is the only measure Chōbei can suggest. He has no means of his own to meet this debt." He smiled as at a thought—"Perhaps Kwaiba himself will pay his own debt!" He chuckled at the idea. "Why not make appeal at once?" repeated O'Iwa, grasping at any straw of safety from this resource, so horrible to the samurai woman. Said Chōbei promptly—"Itō Sama knows perfectly well the state of Samonchō. Asakusa, Honjō, are far removed. An appeal for twenty ryō as surety money in applying for a situation would appeal to him; the other would not. Besides, thus far away he could not investigate closely, if he would. He could but say 'yes' or 'no.' " O'Iwa remembered what Kwaiba had said—the necessity of removing to a distance. The words and actions of these rascals dove-tailed admirably. A long silence followed. With exultation at heart Chōbei saw her rise. She put out the fire, gathered together the few personal articles she still possessed. On seeing her struggle with the heavy rain doors he came to her aid. "For the time being accept the hospitality of Chōbei's poor quarters. These wounds are to be healed." With full heart O'Iwa gratefully accepted. She took his hand as if to kiss it. Chōbei hastily snatched it away. In his sleeve, the ink not twenty-four hours old, was the paper of the sale of O'Iwa to Chōbei; her passing over to his guardianship, to dispose of as a street harlot, a night-hawk. The consideration? Five ryō: payment duly acknowledged, and of course nominal.The paper of transfer was in thoroughly correct form.Chōbei had drawn it himself.

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CHAPTER XIII

THE YŌTAKA (NIGHT-HAWKS) OF HONJŌ

O'Iwa's stay of nearly seven days at Chōbei's house was one of the golden periods of her life.O'Taki received the Ojōsan with humble joy.Iémon could not drop Chōbei out of his life of prosperity.O'Iwa was soon brought in contact with the humble pair in adversity.Hers was a generous heart, and O'Taki could not look around her house without some indication of this kindness.Her sympathy with the wronged wife was great.A husband—thriftless, a gambler, inconsiderate—of such a one she had some experience.By the same means this lady was brought to her present pass.It roused her indignation.As to brutality; that was another matter.She squared her stout shoulders and looked derisively at the loose angularity of Chōbei, his rickety physique.But the storm would pass.Itō Sama, Kondō Sama, Myōzen Oshō, all these were agreed.The Ojōsan now out of his reach, without a home to go to, and only hostile faces met with in the ward, Iémon Sama would soon come to terms. Would the Ojōsan deign to honour their humble home as long as she liked.She at once suppressed O'Iwa's rather futile attempts to aid in her rough household work.It had been the lady's part to direct her maids in their more repugnant tasks, and now brought right under her hand in this plebeian household.O'Iwa never had undergone the harsher lot of her mother O'Mino.

Chōbei in his way was as kind as his wife. At once he devoted himself to the repair of his property. When O'Iwa produced the paste and lotion of Suian Sensei, as sovereign for the complexion, Chōbei took them, smelled and carefully tasted, and finally put some of the paste on the end of the hashi or sticks to arrange the charcoal in the hibachiA smell of garlic pervaded the room. He noted the puffy face of O'Iwa, the unnatural, almost ghastly, white of the skin where the wide pockmarks permitted it to be seen. Within the circles of these scars there was a curious striated effect, only seen at times in the efforts of artists to depict the supernatural, or of savages to frighten their foes. It gave a drawn cadaverous look to the lower part of the face. "There is more in it than that," mused Chōbei.During her stay O'Iwa had one of her attacks—of nerves—in fact a true epileptic seizure.Chōbei put an embargo at once on all remedies but his own.Cynically, he added—"But elsewhere there will be no Chōbei.If the Okusama deigns to apply the drugs of Suian Sensei where she now goes, doubtless she will find early relief.At present they spoil Chōbei's efforts."The clever rascal at once recognized his fellow in Suian, bribed to render O'Iwa more hideous than Nature had made her, to take away her womanhood and hope of an heir to the Tamiya.To poison her?That he doubted; although the ignorance of leech and victim might readily lead to such result.

Within the seven days O'Iwa San once more could show herself in public. It was now Chōbei's part to carry the plot to completion. Iémon, at the proposition, had said—"Sell her as a night-hawk! An ugly woman like that no one will approach." —"'Tis Chōbei's trade," said the pimp coolly. "In Yoshidamachi they have noses—over night. Between dark and dawn the member melts, becomes distorted, and has to be made. It has served its purpose. This is Chōbei's affair. Provided that O'Iwa never again troubles the presence of Iémon Sama the object is attained." —"That is true. Do what you please. Kill her, if desired. O'Iwa in the Yotsuya; and Chōbei feels the wrath of Itō Dono, of this Iémon." Unwillingly he signed the contract required by Chōbei. He gave the latter a fee of ten ryō for the excision of this excrescence, and with a sigh of joy learned of the disappearance in company of the pimp and O'Iwa. Within three days carpenters and other workmen swarmed over the Tamiya in Samonchō. The master made ready for his return.

O'Taki had gone forth on a mission for Chōbei. This would insure her absence for the greater part of the day. Said Chōbei—"Deign, Okusama, to allow Chōbei to prove his art. All his accomplishments have not been displayed." To pass off the ugly woman at night could be done. He was compelled to act by daylight; though relying somewhat on the dusky interior of Toémon's entrance and reception room. This Toémon was the chief of the guild which bought and controlled these unfortunate street-walkers, lowest of their class. Chōbei sat down before O'Iwa. As if in an actor's room he was surrounded with a battery of brushes and spatulas, pastes, paints of all shades of greys, flesh colour, pinks—even reds. Under his skilful hands O'Iwa was transformed. To make her beautiful was impossible. He made her passable. The weather was cold, though spring was now close at hand. Chōbei hesitated. The walk was a long one. His handiwork might fade or melt under the sweating induced by effort. Besides he had no desire for conversation. There were to be as few answers to curious questions as possible. In his house he had left the two women to themselves, and saw O'Iwa only when O'Taki was present. So he called a kago and gave the necessary directions. As the coolies moved off with their fair burden he trotted along in the rear, his project occupying his busy mind.

The place of Toémon was at Yoshidachō Nichōme, in the centre of the Warigesui district. To the north was the canal of that name. To the south a second canal ditto; the second stream was the larger, fairer, and more pretentious South Warigesui. An equal distance to the east was the Hōonji Bashi, with the great temple of that name just across the bounding river or canal of the district. As the kago bearers ambled down the bank of the North Warigesui, O'Iwa thought she had never seen a more filthy stream than this back-water with its stale current. The bearers put them down at the canal. Chōbei had some directions to give during the short walk of a couple of hundred yards to their destination. Said he—"For a samurai woman to engage in this business is a serious offence. After all the matter is mere form; a pledge to secure the return of the sealed paper forged by the husband. The wife performs her highest duty in saving the honour of the House. Is not that true?" There was a little sob in O'Iwa's voice as she gave assent. She felt different now that she was close at hand to the scene and crisis of her trial. Continued Chōbei—"The agreement has been made out as with O'Iwa, daughter of Kanémon, the younger brother of this Chōbei and green-grocer of Abegawachō of Asakusa. Deign to remember that the twenty ryō is needed to save a father in peril of default and imprisonment." —"The cases are not so different," whispered O'Iwa. "Just so," said Chōbei. "Here is the place. Condescend to wait a moment, here at the entrance." Briskly he entered the house. "A request to make!" —"Ah! Is it Chōbei San? The Danna Sama is absent for the day, at the office of the ward magistrate. Some drunkard considers that he has been robbed. The girl he accused was punished—perhaps unjustly. All the women of this house are honest." —"Beyond repair," laughed Chōbei. "However, the other matter has been agreed on. The girl is here. An uncontrollable jade! The master has deigned to aid Chōbei. Thanks are felt. Since she will run with the men, it is as well for Kanémon to get the profit of the business. If she breaks out—put a ring in her nose, and treat her as the farmers treat their cattle. Don't let her again bother home or Chōbei. She will lie—of course. At Toémon's they are used to lies?" The woman Matsu laughed—"No fear as to that." She looked over the contract with care. "Ah! She is sold for life service; otherwise the twenty ryō would be a scandalous price. Is that her?... Um! Not a likely jade. Stand a little in the light.... This Matsu would never have closed the bargain without a view. But Toémon San has left no choice. In the scarcity of women, and his good-will to Chōbei San, he would pay any sum. At twenty ryō she is a gem! You can come up here. Také! Haru! A new girl. Take her in charge and show her the house and its ways.... Chōbei San, some tea." Chōbei put a word into this running comment and invitation. As the girls were leading off the hesitating O'Iwa he said loudly and roughly—"Remember to obey the Okamisan (wife) in everything. Whatever she commands is right and must be done: no nonsense. Ah! Something forgotten: a moment please." He drew O'Iwa aside, seeing that she was on the verge of tears. Speaking gently—"Be astonished at nothing; be ignorant of everything. The house of Toémon in Honjō is not the drawing room of Tamiya in Yotsuya. Deign to remember that Chōbei must play his part. Life is like an excursion in a pleasure boat. There are rough places to pass, some danger, and much refuse to get rid of. Condescend to have House and husband in mind. It is but for a week—or so." —"And Iémon San, the House; they will be secure?" —"That Chōbei is assured of. See: he has the twenty ryō in hand. It is mere matter of securing the compromising paper and the return of Iémon. Some negotiations are necessary for that. In the future his behaviour will be much improved." He clinked the coin before her. As O'Iwa passed up the stairs he returned to the hibachi of the wife. The tea was a short course. Chōbei was on needles while drinking it. He feared an outbreak from above in the course of O'Iwa's initiation into a vileness the depth of which she never even could suspect. "Yes: trade is good. Women are difficult to secure. The men prefer to have them in their homes, rather than to gain by their service elsewhere." In such professional talk of a few moments he quickly dispatched the refreshment, climbed into his clogs, and departed. O'Iwa had disappeared far into the depths.

Toémon and his wife were quarrelling. Said the woman—"Are you mad, to pay twenty ryō for such an ugly wench? No choice was given. This Matsu was to receive her. Chōbei is a cheat." Toémon and the bantō drew O'Iwa under the light, much as if she were a bag of rice—"The clever rascal! From crown of the head to neck she is all made up. And perhaps elsewhere." —"At all events she is a woman." The bantō spoke as in doubt. "Never mind: we are great artists, too, if not so good at cheating as this Chōbei. Twenty-six years! She's forty at least.... What may be your honoured age?" —"Twenty-six years," replied the distressed O'Iwa. The wife threw up her hands—"And she does not lie!... Haru! Kōta! It is time to go out. The bell already strikes the hour of the dog (7 p.m.).Take Iwa to the reception room (yoséba). She is to learn the ways of the place; where to entertain her guests.... Come! Along with all of you!" Some ten or fifteen women had gathered in their array for their night's campaign. Paint, powder, plaster, disguised the ravages of disease among the hardened set of this low class house. O'Iwa accompanied O'Haru to what had been called the yosébaThe girl explained to her.Here was the place to bring and entertain any guest picked up on the street.They were not the degraded wretches who made the darkness of an alleyway the reception room for their lovers.It was to be remembered that the wine drunk not only profited the house, but paid in commissions for their own cosmetics and other little gratifications.On entering the place O'Iwa shrank back to the wall in horror; to shrink away in turn from the filth and obscenity to be seen on that support.She would have fled, but the entering crowd pressed her further in.It was a long room.The entrance formed a sort of parlour or place to sit.The rest of the apartment was divided longitudinally into little cubicula, rooms of the space of the one dirty mat with which each was furnished.A shelf contained its cynically filthy and suggestive furniture.

O'Iwa's disgust and terror was too obvious.O'Haru held on to her arm to prevent flight.The attention of the others was drawn to them."Does the beauty want an apartment to herself? That is the privilege of the Oiran, the Go Tayu, the Kashiku.[26] Ah! Sister dear; it is to be learned that this place is Hell—First Block. There is no 'second block' (nichōmé). One gets used to anything here; even to use a demon's horns for toothpicks." Thus spoke a hard-faced woman of some thirty odd, by her looks. Said the frightened O'Iwa in low tones—"Iwa has not come for this service. She is but a pledge. This redeemed, within the week she returns to her home. This place upsets one's stomach." Those present laughed loudly. "We all say that. The real reason for our coming is not to be told. Be assured that you must perform the service, or suffer. Condescend not to fall into the hands of the Okamisan. In anger she is terrible." There was a general movement of the women. Said O'Haru, drawing along O'Iwa by the hand—"Come! Make no trouble. A newcomer, you are sure to be successful and please Matsu Dono." O'Iwa resolutely held back. No matter what the suffering she would undergo it. Ah! A week in this place indeed was to be life in Hell. She called up the sight of the dismantled house, the figure of her grandfather, anything to strengthen her will to resist. O'Haru left the room. "Okamisan, the new girl refuses to serve. Haru makes report." The wife of Toémon leaped up from her cushion. Dressed in night clothes, a long pipe in hand, she rushed into the room. "What nonsense is this? Which slut is it that refuses the service of the house?... You! The ink on the receipt for twenty ryō paid for your ugly face and body is hardly dry.... Pledge? A week's service? You lie: as your uncle said you would lie. You are here for life service as a street harlot. Out with you!... No? No?" She was about to throw herself on O'Iwa, to cast her into the street. Then her passion, to outward appearance, cooled. She was the woman of her business, malevolent and without pity. "O'Kin! O'Kin!" The others now gathered around O'Iwa. O'Haru and the girl O'Také plead with her to obey. They tried to hustle her off by force. Said O'Haru—"Report had to be made. This Haru acted for the best. Truly such obstinacy deserves punishment. But Haru is filled with pity. Deign to obey. Go forth to the service. The result of refusal is terrible." O'Iwa shook her head—"O'Haru San is free from blame. Iwa is grateful for the kind words. To go out to this service is impossible." The woman O'Kin strode into the room; a big, strapping wench, and the understudy of O'Matsu in her husband's affections. "A new recruit?" She spoke in inquiry—"Yes: and obstinate. It is a matter of punishment in the seméba....Now!Out with you all!No dawdling!"The irate woman turned on her flock.They fled like sheep into the open.

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CHAPTER XIV

THE PUNISHMENT

O'Iwa did not move. The two women approached and laid hands on her. Her yielding made no difference in the roughness of their treatment. Dragged, hustled, shoved, with amplitude of blows, she was already much bruised on reaching the place of punishment—the seméba, to use the technical term of these establishments "for the good of the community."During a temporary absence of the mistress, a ray of kindliness seemed to touch the woman O'Kin.She pointed to the square of some six feet, to the rings fastened in the rafters."Don't carry self-will to extremes.Here you are to be stripped, hauled up to those rings, and beaten until the bow breaks.Look at it and take warning.Kin is no weakling."She shoved back her sleeve, showing an arm as hard and brawny as that of a stevedore.With disapproval she observed O'Iwa.The latter stood unresisting, eyes on the ground.Only the lips twitched from time to time.As the only person in the house, male or female, not to fear the Okamisan, O'Kin could only put down the courage to ignorance.She shrugged her shoulders with contempt."A man would cause you no pain.The same cannot be said of Kin.You shall have the proof."Perhaps severity would be more merciful, by quickly breaking down this obstinacy.

The wife returned with the instrument of torture, a bow of bamboo wound with rattan to strengthen it. O'Kin took it, ostentatiously bent and displayed its stinging flexibility before the eyes of O'Iwa. The latter closed them. She would cut off all temptation to weakness. At a sign O'Kin roughly tore off the obi. A twist, and the torn and disordered kimono of O'Iwa fell to her feet with the skirt. She had no shirt. Thus she was left completely naked. In modesty she sank crouching on the ground. The cold wind of the March night made her shiver as O'Kin roped her wrists. Again the woman whispered her counsel in her ear—"When you get enough, say 'Un! Un!' " Detecting no sign of consent she took a ladder, climbed up, and passed the ropes through the rings above. She descended, and the two women began to haul away. Gradually O'Iwa was raised from the sitting posture to her full height of extended arms, until by effort her toes could just reach the ground. In this painful position the slightest twist to relieve the strain on the wrists caused agonizing pains through the whole body. "Still obstinate—strike!" shouted the wife. O'Kin raised the bow and delivered the blow with full force across the buttocks. A red streak appeared. O'Iwa by a natural contortion raised her legs. The blows descended fast, followed at once by the raised welt of flesh, or the blood from the lacerated tissue. Across the shoulder blades, the small of the back, the buttocks, the belly, they descended with the full force of the robust arms and weight of O'Kin. Every time the legs were raised at the shock the suspended body spun round. Every time the toes rested on the ground the bow descended with merciless ferocity. The sight of the torture roused the fierce spirit in the tormentors. O'Kin redoubled the violence of her blows, seeking out the hams and the withers, the shoulders, the tenderest points to cause pain. The wife ran from side to side, gazing into the face and closed eyes of O'Iwa, trying to detect weakening under the torture, or result from some more agonizing blow. O'Iwa's body was striped and splashed with red. O'Kin's hands slipped on the wet surface of the rod. Suddenly she uttered an exclamation. Blood was now gushing from the nose, the eyes, the mouth of O'Iwa. "Okamisan! Okamisan! It won't do to kill her. Deign to give the order to cease. She must be lowered." The wife coolly examined the victim. "She has fainted. Lower her, and throw salt water over her. The sting will bring her to." O'Kin followed the instructions in the most literal sense. She dashed the bucket of water with great impetus right into O'Iwa's face. "Un!" was the latter's exclamation as she came to consciousness. "She consents! She consents!" cried O'Kin with delight. The wife was decidedly sceptical, but her aid plainly would go no further at this time. Said she—"Leave her as she is. There are other matters to attend to than the whims of an idle vicious jade. She would cheat this Matsu out of twenty ryō? Well: time will show the victor." She departed—"to drink her wine, pare her nails, and sing obscene songs to the accompaniment of the samisen."

Tied hand and foot O'Iwa lay semi-conscious in the cold shed of punishment.At midnight the girls returned to this "home."They gathered around the prostate O'Iwa.From O'Kin they had an inkling of the courage displayed.They admired her, but none dared to touch her bonds.At last O'Haru San, unusually successful in her night's raid, ventured to approach the half drunk mistress of the house."Haru makes report."She spread her returns before the gratified Okamisan.Timidly the girl added—"O'Iwa San repents.Deign to remit her punishment.She looks very ill and weak."—"Shut up!"was the fierce retort.Then as afterthought of sickness and possible loss came to mind."She can be untied and sent to bed."—"And food?"—"She can earn it."The woman turned on O'Haru, who bowed humbly and slipped away.That night the girls contributed from their store to feed O'Iwa; as they did on the succeeding days and nights.The wife would have stopped the practice, but Toémon interfered.He meant to keep his dilapidated stock in as good repair as possible.He fed them pretty well."The woman is not to be starved—at least too openly.The last case gave this Toémon trouble enough, and on the very day this epileptic came into the house, to bring confusion with her.Beat her if you will; but not enough to kill her."O'Matsu followed his words to the letter.One beating was followed by another; with interval enough between the torture to insure recuperation and avoid danger to life.These scenes came to be regarded as a recreation of the house.The other inmates were allowed to attend, to witness the example and fascinate their attention.But at last the Okamisan despaired. Amusement was one thing; but her hatred of O'Iwa was tempered by the desire to find some use for her, to get a return for the twenty ryō of which she had been swindled. Finally the advice of the bantō was followed. "The men of the house cannot be tempted to approach such an apparition. The other girls have not time to devote to making up O'Iwa as for the stage. They have not twenty ryō at stake, as had Chōbei. Let her wash the dishes." Thus was O'Iwa "degraded" from her high estate as street-walker. Turned into a kitchen drudge she shed tears of joy. She almost forgot the matter of the pledge in this new and pleasant life. The time and the place, perhaps the drug she took, had done their work on the mind of O'Iwa. Iémon, the house of Samonchō, the ihai in the Butsudan, the pleasant garden—all were of the tissue of a dream amid a toil which deposited her on the straw wrappings of the charcoal and in a shed, thoroughly worn out at the end of her long day. The O'Iwa of Samonchō at this end of the lapsing year of service was dormant. But accidents will happen.

There was excitement in the house.Mobei, the dealer in toilet articles—combs, brushes, jewel strings—was at the grating.The women were clustered before the wares he exposed in his trays.This Mobei, as dealer in toilet articles (koma-mono) wandered all the wards of Edo, his little trays fitting neatly into each other, and wrapped in a furoshiki or bundle-handkerchief. His wares formed a marvellous collection of the precious and common place, ranging from true coral and tortoise shell, antique jewelry and curious netsuké of great value, to their counterfeits in painted wood, horn, and coloured glass. "Mobei San, long has been the wait for you. Is there a bent comb in stock?" —"Truly this Mobei is vexing. He humbly makes apology, lady. Here is just the thing.... How much? Only a bu....Too high?Nay!With women in the ordinary walks of life it is the wage of a month.To the honoured Oiran it is but a night's trifling."The other women tittered.O'Haru was a little nettled at the high sounding title of Oiran. She would not show her irritation. Mobei continued his attentions. He laid before her and the others several strings of jewels, their "coral" made of cleverly tinted paste. "Deign to look; at but one bu two shū. If real they would cost twenty ryō."—"And Mobei has the real?"The dealer laughed.As in pity, and to give them a glimpse of the far off upper world, he raised the cover of a box in the lower tier.They gasped in admiration before the pink of the true coral.Hands were stretched through the grating to touch it.Mobei quickly replaced the cover."For some great lady," sighed O'Haru—"Just so," replied Mobei, adjusting his boxes.He had sold two wooden painted combs and a string of horn beads in imitation of tortoise shell.He pocketed the hundred "cash," those copper coins with a hole in the centre for stringing.Then briefly—"The necklace is for no other than the Kashiku of the Yamadaya, the loved one of Kibei Dono of Yotsuya.The comb (kanzashi) in tortoise shell and gold is for the honoured lady wife of Iémon Dono, the go keninBut Mobei supplies not only the secular world.This—for one who has left the world; for Myōzen Oshō of Myōgyōji, the gift of Itō Dono.For the custom of Mobei the Yotsuya stands first in order."He took a box from his sleeve and showed them the rosary of pure crystal beads.Even in the dull light of a lowering day the stones flashed and sparkled.The women showed little interest.A priest to them was not a man—ordinarily.

He shouldered his pack. "Mobei San—a comb with black spots, in imitation of tortoise shell. Please don't fail me on the next visit." Mobei nodded agreement. Then he halted and turned. One of the women had called out in derision—"Here is O'Iwa San. Surely she wants to purchase. Mobei San! Mobei San! A customer with many customers and a full pocketbook." These women looked on O'Iwa's assignment to the kitchen as the fall to the lowest possible state. At sight of the newcomer Mobei gasped. O'Iwa on leaving the door of Toémon's house, miso (soup) strainers for repair in one hand, fifteen mon for bean paste (tōfu) tightly clasped in the other, came face to face with the toilet dealer, "The lady of Tamiya—here!" —"The lady of Tamiya!" echoed the astonished and curious women. Said O'Iwa quickly—"Mobei San is mistaken. This is Iwa; but lady of Tamiya...." Hastily she pulled her head towel over her face. In doing so the "cash" slipped from her hand. A mon missing meant no tōfu; result, a visit to the semébaIn recovering the lost coin Mobei was left in no doubt."'Tis indeed the lady of Tamiya.It cannot be denied."O'Iwa no longer attempted the impossible.She said—"It is Iwa of Tamiya.Mobei San, a word with you."The women were whispering to each other."He called her 'shinzō.' " Said O'Haru—"There always was something about her to arouse suspicion; so ugly, and with such grand airs. And how she endured the punishment! Truly she must be a samurai woman." The minds of all reverted to their master Toémon, and how he would take this news.

O'Iwa had drawn Mobei somewhat apart from the grating.With downcast face she spoke—"Deign, Mobei San, to say nothing in the ward of this meeting with Iwa."To Mobei's earnest gesture of comprehension—"Affairs had gone badly with Tamiya.Iémon San was misled into gambling by Natsumé Kyuzō and Imaizumi Jinzaémon.He was carried away by the passion.It was no longer possible to stay in Samonchō.Worse conduct followed.In the kindness and advice of Itō Dono, of Akiyama and Kondō Sama, this Iwa found support.But she disobeyed.She would not follow the advice given.However, gratitude is felt by Iwa.One cannot leave this place, or long since she would have paid the visit of acknowledgment.A matter of importance arose.Chōbei San came to Iwa's aid, and saved the situation.This place is terrible, but the consequences of not coming would have been more so.To Chōbei gratitude is felt.It was the opportunity offered the wife to show her faith and courage."Now she looked bravely in Mobei's face.It was the toilet dealer's turn to show confusion—"Honoured lady, is nothing known?"—"Known?"answered O'Iwa in some surprise."What is there to know?When this Iwa left Samonchō to be sure the house was cracking apart everywhere.The light poured in as through a bamboo door....Ah!Have matters gone badly with the Danna in Iwa's absence?"Mobei shook his head in dissent."Alas!Itō Sama, Akiyama or Kondō San, has misfortune come to them, without a word of condolence from Iwa?Perhaps Chōbei San, in his precarious life...."The poor isolated world of the thoughts of this homely creature was limited to these friends in need.

Mobei had sunk on his knees before her. He raised eyes in which stood tears of pity and indignation. "The Ojōsan knows nothing of what has occurred in Yotsuya? This Mobei will not keep silent. With the affairs of Iémon Sama, of Itō Dono and Akiyama San nothing has gone wrong. The absence of the lady O'Iwa is otherwise related. She has abandoned house and husband to run away with a plebeian, the bantō at the green-grocer's on Shinjuku road. Such is the story circulated." O'Iwa drew away from him as from a snake—then: "Mobei, you lie! Why tell such a tale to this Iwa? Are not the words of Itō Dono, of Akiyama Sama, of Chōbei San still in Iwa's ears? What else has she had to console her during these bitter months but the thought of their kindness? This dress (a scantily wadded single garment), these bare feet in this snow, this degraded life—are not they evidences of Iwa's struggle for the honour of husband and House? Mobei, slander of honourable men brings one to evil. Mobei lies; lies!"

He seized her dress.The man now was weeping."The lady of Tamiya is a saint.Alas!Nothing does she know of the wicked hearts of men.Too great has been the kindness of the Ojōsan to this Mobei for him to attempt deceit.Deign to listen.This day a week; was it not the day to a year of the Ojōsan's leaving the house in Yotsuya?"O'Iwa turned to him with a startled face.He continued—"A week ago Mobei visited Yotsuya. He has many customers there, not too curious about prices. Hence he brings the best of his wares. Coming to the house in Samonchō a feast was in progress. There were present Itō Dono, Akiyama Sama, Natsumé and Imaizumi Sama, Kondō Dono; O'Hana San, of course. All were exceedingly merry, Iémon Dono poured out a cup of wine. 'Mobei! Mobei! Come here! Drain this cup in honour of the occasion. We celebrate the anniversary of the expulsion of the bakémono. The demon is driven forth from the Paradise of Yotsuya. Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō!' This Mobei was amazed—'The O'Baké.... What O'Baké?' —'Why: O'Iwa San. A year since, with the aid of these good friends, and one not present here, Iémon freed himself from the clutches of the vengeful apparition. Our Kumi-gashira granted divorce in due form. The son of Takahashi Daihachirō—Yanagibara Kazuma—Tamiya Iémon no longer catches at sleep to wake in fear. Chief, deep is the gratitude of Iémon for the favour done by Itō Dono.' The Ojōsan a bakémono! At these outrageous words Mobei felt faint. Receiving the cup, as in modesty returned to the rōka to drink, the contents were spilled on the ground. Ah! Honoured lady, it is not only that the Ojōsan has been driven out. Her goods have been cleverly stolen by false messages of gambling losses. Stored with Kondō Sama they were brought back on the success of the wicked plot. The whole is a conspiracy of Iémon Dono with Itō Dono, with Akiyama, Chōbei, Kondō, and others. They bragged of it, and told the tale in full before this Mobei, laughing the while. Why, lady! On the word of Chōbei San the order of divorce was issued by Itō Dono. Within the month O'Hana San left the shelter of the house of Kondō Sama to enter the Tamiya as bride. Deign to look. Here is a jewelled comb reserved by Iémon Sama as present for O'Hana San his wife. Here is gift of Itō Dono to Myōzen Oshō for his efforts 'in the cause.' "

O'Iwa stood as one frozen.With Mobei's words the light was flooding into mind and soul. Step by step she now followed clearly the stages of this infamous conspiracy against her peace and honour. She had been fooled, cheated, degraded—and by Itō Kwaiba, the enemy of Matazaémon; by Iémon, son of the hereditary foe Takahashi Daihachirō. Mobei remained huddled at her feet, watching with fright the sudden and awful change in her face. The words came in a whisper. At first she brought out her speech with difficulty, then to rise to torrent force—"Cheated, gulled by the hereditary foe! And this Iwa lies bound and helpless! 'Tis understood! The end is at hand—Ah! The poison! The poison! Now it, too, rises; flowing upward to heart and head of Iwa. Accursed man! Accursed woman; who would play the rival and destroy the wife! The time is short; the crisis is at hand. Chōbei's dark words become light. Hana would poison Iwa through this treacherous leech. Iémon would kill her by the foul life of this brothel—Gods of Nippon! Buddhas of the Universe! All powerful Amida, the Protector! Kwannon, the Lady Merciful! Deign to hearken to the prayer of this Iwa. Emma Dai-ō, king of Hell, summon not the daughter of Tamiya before the dreaded throne for judgment—through the course of seven existences—until the vengeance of Iwa be sated with the miserable end of these her persecutors. May the sacred characters of the Daimoku, written on the heart of Iwa for her future salvation, be seared out as with hot iron. On Itō Kwaiba, Iémon, Akiyama Chōzaémon, Chōbei, all and every one engaged in this vile plot, rests the death curse of Iwa. Against these; against Natsumé, Imaizumi, Yoémon of Tamiya, lies the grudge of Iwa of Tamiya. Gods and Buddhas—grant this prayer!"

A violent hand was laid on the bosom of Mobei's robe.He screamed in terror at the fearful face bent over him.A broad round dead white swollen face, too sharp gleaming malignant dots darting flashes as from a sword between the puffed and swollen lids, froze him into a passive object.One of these lids drooped horribly down upon the cheek of the apparition.In the physical effort exerted, the slit of the mouth showed the broad black even teeth, which seemed about to clutch at his throat; as did the vigorous hand, the nails of which sank into his gullet. Framed in the mass of wild disordered hair Mobei was isolated as in a universe of space; left alone with this fearful vision. "Lady! Lady O'Iwa! Lady of Tamiya! This Mobei has done naught. Others have wronged O'Iwa San. Mobei is guiltless.... Ah! Ah!" With fright and pain he rolled over on the ground in a dead faint. Screaming and shouting the women Také and Kōta rushed around and out to his rescue. O'Iwa San was now under the full control of her disorder. Takézo staggered back, her hands to her face to hide the horrible sight, to wipe from eyes and cheeks the blood streaming from the deep tears made by O'Iwa's nails. Kōta from behind seized O'Iwa around the waist and shoulders. Sharply up came the elbow shot, catching this interloper under the chin. Neck and jaw fairly cracked under the well-delivered blow. Kōta went down in a heap as one dead. A chūgen coming along the North Warigesui had reached the crossing. He thought it better to stand aside, rather than attempt to stop this maddened fiend tearing through space. At the canal bank there was a moment's pause. Then came a dull splash; as of some heavy body plunged in the water. With a cry the man hastened forward. Not a sign of anything could be seen. In this rural place no help was to be had, and he was little inclined to plunge at random into the foul stream. In haste he turned back to where a crowd was gathering around the prostrate Mobei, the groaning harlots to whom punishment had been meted out.

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CHAPTER XV

CHŌBEI GETS THE NEWS

The chūgen stood over the toilet dealer now coming out of his half-trance condition. The eyes of the two men met and showed mutual astonishment. "Naruhodo! Mobei San! In a quarrel over his wares with the vile women of this district?" —"Kakusuké San! Ah! There is much to tell. O'Iwa San...." The chūgen of Itō Kwaiba was amazed attention. "This Mobei to his ill fortune, met with the lady of Tamiya. Her condition, her ignorance, was too pitiful. Learning all the truth from Mobei she inflicted on him this punishment. May it cease there! Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!... Heavy the grudge against your master Itō Dono; against Iémon Sama, his wife O'Hana San, all in the plot against the Lady O'Iwa. 'To seven existences grant this Iwa opportunity to vent her anger. Every one of the perpetrators of this deed shall be seized and put to death.' She invoked all the gods and Buddhas; Nay, the king of Hell—Emma Dai-ō himself. Look to yourself, Kakusuké San. Deign to seek employment elsewhere." Kakusuké completed his task of raising the battered and scratched toilet dealer to his feet. "Mobei San, you have acted the fool; without doubt. Relate what has happened." Mobei did so in full detail. Kakusuké was thoughtful. "Much of this Kakusuké hears for the first time. A servant gets but snatches of the inside of such matters. Just now the mission has been from his master, Itō Dono, to the Inagaki yashiki near Hōonji; matter of transfer involved in the late adoption of Kibei Dono into the House of the Danna Sama.... So that scoundrel Chōbei sold the lady of Tamiya to Toémon for a harlot. Alas! She deserved a better fate. One way or another they would kill her; and Chōbei, his money in hand, abetted the crime. Where is this brothel?"

Surrounded by his women Toémon was listening to their excited statements.Takézo was crying with rage and pain, as she examined her fissured countenance before a toilet stand (kyōdai). Kōta, brought back to consciousness, lay groaning in a corner. They were applying cold compresses to her broken jaw. Toémon looked up suspiciously as Kakusuké entered, supporting the lamed and maimed Mobei. "Look to this man's wares, scattered in the roadway; and to the man himself." He spoke roughly, and with authority. Toémon did not dare to resent his manner. With well feigned solicitude he addressed Mobei—"Ma! Ma! A terrible punishment. Your face has the blush of the plum blossom marked upon it.... O'Haru, run to the house of Wakiyama Sensei. Kōta is badly hurt; his skill is needed. Stop at the drug store. Here is the 'cash' to bring salve for this good man's wounds. Alas! That a woman of Toémon's house should so maltreat others. When caught her punishment...." —"Shut up!" said Kakusuké. He had already taken his line of conduct in his master's interest. "How comes it that the Lady O'Iwa is found at the house of Toémon?" —"The Lady O'Iwa!" replied the brothel keeper in well-feigned surprise. Turning to Mobei—"It is true, then, what the women report; that Mobei San called the O'Iwa of this house 'Shinzō.' Who is this O'Iwa?" Said Kakusuké coldly—"The Lady O'Iwa is the granddaughter and heir of Tamiya Matazaémon, a higher dōshin. She is the wife of the go-kenin, Tamiya Iémon."

Toémon now was truly aghast. "Heir and wife of go-kenin! This Toémon had not the slightest inkling of her status. Chōbei has juggled this Toémon most outrageously." He turned savagely on O'Matsu. "So much for stupid brutality. One must give you head, or have no peace. Why not treat the woman kindly, learn her story? Lies or truth that of all the women in the house is known. But O'Iwa San was a mark for malice. Chōbei has lied. Between you the house is ruined. Since when were samurai women sold to life service? Fool! It means imprisonment, exile, to those implicated. This Toémon ends his days among the savage fishermen of Sado." He would have struck her. Kakusuké and the bantō interposed. The woman did not budge. Defiant, she stood with folded arms—"It was Toémon's arrangement to buy her in blind belief of Chōbei. Why blame this Matsu? Since when were women exempt from service or punishment? The rule of the house is one or the other. How long has it been since O'Seki left the house—in a box; and Toémon had to make answer at the office." Then catching herself up in the presence of strangers—"Danna Sama, this is no time for a quarrel. Those of the house will say nothing; in their own interest. As for this worthy gentleman, the Lady O'Iwa was wife and heir neither of himself nor his master. Toémon San is grossly neglectful of courtesy due to guests. Leave Mobei San to this Matsu." She whispered in his ear.

Toémon had now recovered his balance. Kakusuké was a chūgen. He had an object in coming to Toémon's house, instead of making report at once to his master, to the outraged Iémon Dono. Of course Toémon misinterepreted this motive; and Kakusuké was quite ready to profit by his mistake. To the now courteous brothel keeper he was equally cordial. O'Matsu and her women carried off Mobei, to salve his wounds, regale him with fish and wine and good treatment, carefully to make inventory of his goods, and repack them with substantial diminution of purchases. What more could Mobei ask. His valued rosary, the necklace, the kanzashi, all the treasures were uninjured. His exchequer was palpably swollen, and more pleasingly than his phiz. His beating had turned out a good day's venture; and without misgiving he can be left in the careful hands of O'Matsu and her women. Meanwhile Kakusuké and Toémon sat over their wine. From the chūgen and toilet dealer the latter secured a complete view of his situation. It was bad, but not irreparable. As Kakusuké with due tardiness prepared to depart, the hospitable innkeeper had ample time to prostrate himself in salutation, meanwhile pushing over a golden ryō wrapped up in decently thin paper which permitted the filtering through of its yellow gleam. "Great has been the trouble and delay of Kakusuké San. Mark not this day in memory, good Sir." Kakusuké was equally polite in salutation—"Fear enters: thanks for the kind entertainment of Toémon San. This alone is to be kept in mind, mark of a day otherwise of but little import." These last words were a healing balm; and Toémon rejoiced.

With the departure of Kakusuké, the chief of the "night-hawks" turned at once to his aides."Také!Haru!...Ah!Kōta is completely done up.You, Také, bear the marks of the day's encounter.Go to Asakusa Hanagawadō.Chōbei is to be brought here at once.The house must clear its skirts of this affair.If he refuses to come, put a rope about his neck and drag him here."The women bowed.At once they prepared for the street, a mission welcome enough under other conditions.O'Také was smarting from her wounds and not very willing to be an object lesson.O'Haru had in mind the fearful curse of O'Iwa, plainly heard by the women.Very willingly she would have had nothing to do with the affair.

Chōbei was engaged at go with the metal dealer of his neighbourhood. The fish and wine were in course of preparation in the kitchen close by and under the skilled hands of O'Taki. The perfume, vinous and of viands, came to the noses of the competitors, to the disturbance of their game. Chōbei had just made a profitable stroke. He had five ryō in hand, commission from the worthy doguya for the successful sale of a daughter to the Yamadaya of Nakanochō. This enterprising plebeian, having a son to succeed him in the business, had secured the necessary furnishing and adoption of a second son into the rival house of the ward, by means of the fifty ryō secured for the girl through the experience and clever tactics of Chōbei. Many the compliments and congratulations exchanged by these excellent men and worthy representatives of their class as they tussled over their game of goProfuse were the thanks of the metal dealer for past services and future feasting.It was with some displeasure therefore that O'Taki had her offices interrupted to respond to a loud and harsh—"Request to make!"sounded at the house entrance.Said she crossly—"Who is it?...Ah!O'Také and O'Haru San of Toémon Sama."Then in wonder—"Oya!Oya!O'Také San....Your honoured face....Has O'Také San gone to bed in the dark with the cat?"Answered O'Také, in no amiable mood—"It could well have been.Your man Chōbei deals in such articles.There are the marks of O'Iwa's nails.As for Chōbei, is the precious rascal at home?"

O'Taki heard her with rising rage—"O'Iwa? What has Chōbei San to do with any O'Iwa and the house of Toémon San? Why call the man of Taki a scoundrel?" —"Because he is such. Nay, Okamisan, don't get angry." —O'Haru was speaking—"has your husband a brother in Abegawachō, a brother in need of twenty ryō and with a daughter who would do nothing but run after the men?" O'Taki was puzzled. "Chōbei San has no brother, in Abegawachō or any other chōHence such brother has no daughter O'Iwa; nor are there children of his own, except the one born to him by this Taki, and a girl already sold...."A light was breaking in on O'Taki.Months before she had come home to find that the Ojōsan had taken her departure.Explained Chōbei—"At Yotsuya everything has been adjusted.Iémon Dono is established again with his wife.The Okusama will not come back to us.Deign to rejoice at the auspicious settlement of her affairs."Which O'Taki did; all the more as Chōbei often was in funds in the successive days through Tamiya.Now she looked from one woman to the other, her fists clenched and working.Said the harsh voice of O'Také—"Chōbei lied then; just as the Danna Sama thought.Nearly a year ago he brought to the house the daughter of his brother Kanémon.He sold her into life service as a night-hawk.For this she turned out to be worthless.O'Taki San knows our Okamisan.No matter how severely beaten, even until the blood came, O'Iwa would not consent to serve. Other means were tried, but the men of the house would have nothing to do with her. She was too ugly. Finally she was degraded into being the kitchen wench, to fetch and carry, and do the hardest and most nauseating tasks. At this downfall in her prospects like a very fool she rejoiced. To-day she met the toilet dealer Mobei. He recognized her as the Lady O'Iwa of Tamiya in the Yotsuya. Drawn apart they spoke together. Suddenly she was transformed into a demon. Leaping on Mobei she tore and clutched at him. Kōta and this Také ran to aid him. Kōta lies helpless and with a broken jaw. Truly it might have been the kick of a horse she received. This Také is—as can be seen. The Lady O'Iwa disappeared toward Warigesui. A chūgen saw her leap in. Probably she has killed herself.... And now, O'Taki San, is not your man Chōbei a scoundrel?"

Said O'Taki—"Rightly spoken; more than right. Wait here." Abruptly she entered the inner room. To Chōbei—"You ... my fine fellow ... is this a time for go? Up and off with you; to accompany O'Také and O'Haru from Toémon's in Honjō. A pretty business is in preparation there." Said the embarrassed and enraged Chōbei—"Wh-what does this rude entrance of Taki mean? Is not the master of the metal shop present? Is such language, such abruptness, to be used in his presence?" —"The Danna of the doguya is certainly present," coolly replied the woman. "It would be better if he was at home.... Honoured Sir, pray betake yourself there. This Chōbei has business with Toémon Sama of Honjō, the brothel keeper and chief of the night-hawks, to whom he has sold for life service as a street harlot the Lady O'Iwa, wife of the go-kenin Iémon Dono and heir of Tamiya Matazaémon the dōshin. A man can be too clever—as this Chōbei, who cheats his wife and all others. Do you be clever enough to take the hint and depart.... Off with you!" The doguya had sat in silence. His eyes were popping out of his head in frightened amaze. Chōbei bounded up in a rage—"You huzzy—shut up! Would you publish the affairs of this Chōbei to the world? Many a bridge is to be passed in the course through this world; and none too sure the footing. Money must be had to live and enjoy life. The result, not the means, is the important factor in its acquisition. Such rudeness to a guest! Vile jade, Chōbei will...." O'Také and O'Haru had to interfere—"Fight it out later, Chōbei San. This quarrel is no concern of ours. The sooner the master is seen, the better for Chōbei San. His rage is great, and mounting. You have the contract? With that face the master; if you can." —"Just so! Just so! As for this wench—she shall have something to remember this Chōbei by...." The worthy and trembling metal dealer took this remark as threat of renewed violence. "For the kind reception and entertainment: thanks. Jubei calls later." Nimbly he was on his feet. Diving under the haori into which Chōbei was struggling he bounced out the front, leaving Chōbei on the ground and floundering in the folds of his garments, from which issued most violent language. For the first time that day O'Také and O'Haru had something to amuse them. O'Taki refusing, they assisted Chōbei to his feet and adjusted his robe. Then one on each side of him they set out for Honjō Yoshidachō. As parting salute to O'Taki, Chōbei finished his sentence.... "Something to remember on Chōbei's return." Her laugh in reply was so savage that the women turned to look at her. In fright they hastened off with their prize.

At Honjō the reception of Chōbei called forth the whole house. The pimp entered the presence of Toémon with confident and jaunty air. "He has the contract?" said Toémon to the woman. O'Haru indicated a sleeve. The bantō and one of the wakashū (young men employes) grasped the arms of Chōbei. The incriminating document was deftly removed by O'Haru and passed over to Toémon. "Now the fellow can neither produce it, nor play his tricks with it." He looked it over carefully; then placed it with his own copy. Chōbei was too outraged and frightened to do more than squat and gasp as he looked around the circle of hostile faces. Without cushion he sat on the bare tatami, much as does a criminal at the white sand. Said Toémon severely—"For once Chōbei has drunk hot water with this Toémon. Does he think to act thus with impunity. The younger sister of his brother Kanémon, 'a noted wench for the streets,' was brought here for life service; sold to Toémon for twenty ryō. Toémon does not intend that the price shall be too high for him. Chōbei cannot lie out of his own contract. Toémon has it in his hands. Chōbei has the twenty ryō. Toémon loses his money. Well and good: Toémon clears himself from the affair. The responsibility lies wholly with Chōbei. Let him look to it." Chōbei seized the moment when lack of breath in his anger halted the speech of Toémon. He would have lied, but Toémon again broke in. "Chōbei has no brother. Chōbei has no woman to dispose of on his own signature. The one he did have, the one he possesses, Toémon knows where to find. Toémon had a woman O'Iwa in his house. You sold the wife of a go-kenin, Iémon Dono of Yotsuya; a woman who was the heir of Tamiya Matazaémon the dōshinThe Lady O'Iwa is traced to the hands of Chōbei.Settle the matter with those in office—machibugyō, dōshin, yakunin—when the affair comes to light...."—"Easily," burst in Chōbei, once more himself."Honoured chief, matters do not call for such earnestness.All this is mere froth and fury.It is true that Chōbei has deceived the chief; but it was at the orders of those much higher.The lady of Tamiya was an obstacle.The sale was ordered by Iémon Dono himself; backed by Itō Kwaiba the head of the Yotsuya ward."—"Chōbei, you lie," said Toémon.The words and advice of Kakusuké still rang in his ears."Iémon Dono?Itō Dono?Who else will Chōbei bring in as his bails?Such a man is not to be trusted.With this Toémon there is no more dealing.The guild is to be warned by a circular letter."

At this fearful threat all Chōbei's jauntiness left him.His livelihood, his existence, were at stake.He prostrated himself before Toémon, dragging his body over the tatami to the zen (low table) at which was seated this autocrat of the night-hawks, this receiver of the refuse and worn-out goods of his greater brothers in the trade. Toémon harshly repulsed him with his foot. Chōbei in despair turned to O'Matsu—"Honoured lady the chief is unreasonably angry. There shall be no loss of money, no harm suffered by the affair. Deign to say a word for Chōbei." —"Since when has Matsu had aught to do with the affairs of the house? The women are her concern. She goes not outside her province." The pimp sought the feet of O'Také—"Condescend to plead for Chōbei. His fault is venial. When no injury results, pardon follows. This is to cut off the breath of Chōbei, of wife and child. Deign to intercede." The street harlot laughed. Her cracked voice was rough—"The commission of Chōbei San has no attractions. This Také has had enough to do with the matter. Truly Chōbei is a wicked fellow. Také would fare badly in such intercourse. Besides his company is too high flown. Officials! Samurai! Chōbei San seeks and will find promotion in the world. Lodgings are preparing for Chōbei Sama in public office—on the Ryōgokubashi; of such he is assured." She drew away from him, harshly cackling. Thus he crawled from one to the other. It was "Chōbei Sama," "Chōbei Dono," in derision they would call him prince—"Chōbei Kō." All stuck out their tongues at him. The young fellows of the house, several of them, stood round the entrance, ostensibly occupied, but with one eye on the scene. As Chōbei sought the bantō's aid, the man raised a long lean leg and gave him a violent kick in the breast. Strong hands seized him as he rolled over and over to the edge of the platform, to land in the arms of the enthusiastic wakashūThe next moment, and Chōbei was picking himself up out of the mud and snow of the street.The lattice of the house entrance closed noisily.

In his confusion of mind by force of habit Chōbei turned round and bowed with ceremony toward the place of his unceremonious exit—"The time is inopportune. Chōbei intrudes. He will call again." The opening of the wicket gate, the peering, scowling face of the bantō recalled the past scene to mind. With all the haste his tottering gait allowed Chōbei sprang off northward to the Adzumabashi and home. As he sped, swaying along, his active mind was making calculations. "Ryōgokubashi, the last home of the outcast beggar—other than the river which flows beneath it!" He shuddered at the prophecy. "Bah! One rascal loses; another gains. Toémon loses twenty ryō. From Iémon San ten ryō was the commission. Itō Dono gave five ryō and asked no questions. The total to Chōbei sums up thirty-five ryō. For a year the affair of O'Iwa has fattened Chōbei; with something still left." His foot struck a stone in the roadway. He looked up and around to find himself before the Genkwōji. About to enter on the maze of temple grounds and yashiki separating him from the bridge his gaze fell on the stagnant squalid waters of the canal. It was in the dirty foulness of this North Warigesui that O'Iwa had disappeared. Chōbei pulled up short. A dead cur, copper hued, with swollen germinating sides and grinning teeth, bobbed at him from the green slime. Chōbei slewed round—"A vile ending; but after all an ending. Iémon profits; Chōbei gets the scoldings. Ah! If it was not that Itō Kwaiba is engaged in this affair; Tamiya should pay dearly. There is a double ration to share with Chōbei—and not to be touched! Itō Dono is no man to trifle with. There was that affair with Isuké; and now, as he says, Iémon is a very son to him." A memory seemed to touch Chōbei. His pace became a crawl. "Why hasten? Chōbei rushes to the fiend—that demon Taki. Chōbei would rather face O'Iwa than Taki in a rage." He laughed—"The attenuated hands of a ghost and the thick fist of Taki, the choice is not uncertain. From the lady mild and merciful there is nothing to fear. Evidently she has settled matters once and for all in the Warigesui. But at the tenement—there it is another affair. This Chōbei will fortify himself against the shock. A drink; then another, and still more. The scoldings will fall on a blunted mind wandering in some dreamland. Time will soothe her rage. To-morrow Chōbei wakes, to find the storm has passed and Taki his obedient serving wench." Near the Adzumabashi, following his prescription against domestic enlivenment, he entered a grog shop; to turn his good coin into wine.

The quarter at Hanagawadō in Asakusa was in an uproar. What had occurred was this—There was an old woman—"Baba" in the native parlance for Dame Gossip—a seller of the dried seaweed called nori (sloke or laver), still called Asakusa nori, though even at that time gathered at Shinagawa, Omori, and more distant places. This old trot had returned, to make her last sales to the excellent metal dealer who lived opposite her own home in the nagaya, in which she lived next door to the Chōbei, husband and wife. The tongue of the doguya was still in full swing of the recital, not only of his own experiences, but of the revelations of O'Taki. He was only too willing for this twenty-first time to repeat the tale to the nori seller, his good neighbour. The good wife and wives listened again with open mouths. The Baba was the most interested of them all. This choice morsel of gossip was to be gathered at the primal source, from the lips of O'Taki herself. She was all sympathy in her curiosity—ranging in the two cases of Chōbei and wife on the one part, and the metal dealer and his insulted household on the other part. Away she stepped quickly from the assembly of ward gossips. At the door of Chōbei's quarters she stopped—"Okamisan! Okamisan!... Strange: is she not at home? Is she so angered that no answer is given? However, this Baba fears no one.... Nesan! Nesan!" She passed the room entrance and went into the area. Glancing into the kitchen—"Oya! Oya! The meal is burnt to a crisp. It has become a soppy, disgusting mass. Nesan! Nesan! The rain falls, the roof window (hikimado) is open."She put down her empty tubs in order to play the good neighbour.The first thing was to close the window against the descending rain. Quickly and deftly she proceeded to wipe the moisture off the shining vessels, to put everything in order in O'Taki's usually immaculate kitchen. Women of this class are finicky housekeepers in their own homes. As the old wife became less engaged she began to hear strange sounds above. Some one was in conversation—and yet it was a one-sided queer kind of talk. The voice was threatening and wheedling. Then she heard a child cry. Surely O'Taki was in the upper room; and thus neglectful of her lord and household.

The old Baba went to the foot of the ladder and listened."Nesan!Nesan!"No answer came, beyond the curious droning monotone above, varied by an occasional wailing cry of the child.It seemed to be in pain.Resolute, the sturdy old Baba began to climb the steps.At the top she halted, to get breath and look into the room.The sight she witnessed froze the old woman in horror to where she stood.A woman was in the room.She knelt over the body of the child, which now and again writhed in the hard and cruel grasp.The queer monotonous voice went on—"Ah!To think you might grow up like your father.The wicked, unprincipled man!To sell the Ojōsan for a street whore, for her to spend her life in such vile servitude; she by whose kindness this household has lived.Many the visits in the past two years paid these humble rooms by the lady of Tamiya.To all her neighbours O'Taki has pointed out and bragged of the favour of the Ojōsan.The very clothing now on your wretched puny body came from her hands.While Chōbei spent his gains in drink and paid women, Taki was nourished by the rice from Tamiya.When Taki lay in of this tiny body it was the Ojōsan who furnished aid, and saw that child and mother could live.Alas!That you should grow up to be like this villainous man is not to be endured....Ah!An idea!To crunch your throat, to secure revenge and peace, security against the future."She bent down low over the child.Suddenly it gave a fearful scream, as does a child fallen into the fire.The Baba, helpless, could only feebly murmur—"Nesan! Nesan! O'Taki San! What are you about? Control yourself." She gave a frightened yowl as the creature began to spread far apart the child's limbs, and with quick rips of the sharp kitchen knife beside her dissevered and tore the little limbs from the quivering body. At the cry the woman turned half around and looked toward her. Jaws dripping red with blood, a broad white flat face with bulging brow, two tiny piercing dots flashing from amid the thick swollen eyelids, it was the face of O'Iwa glowering at her. "Kiya!" The scream resounded far and wide. Incontinently the old woman tumbled backward down the steep steps, to land below on head and buttocks.

Some neighbours, people passing, came rushing in.A crowd began to gather."Baba!Baba San!What is wrong?"She could not speak; only point upward and shudder as does one with heavy chills.As they moved toward the stair a roar went up from the crowd in the street.O'Taki had appeared at the window, her face smeared with blood and almost unrecognizable.She waved a limb of the dismembered infant.The crowd were frozen with horror.As some shouted to those within to hasten the woman brandished the bloody knife.Thrusting it deep into her throat she ripped and tore at the handle, spattering the incautious below with the blood spurting from the wound.Then she fell backward into the room.When the foremost to interfere rushed in they drew back in fear at what they saw.The child's head was half knawed from the body; its limbs lay scattered to this place and that.The body of O'Taki lay where she had fallen.It was as if the head had been gnawed from the trunk, but the head itself was missing.Search as they would, it was not to be found.Meanwhile the news of these happenings spread rapidly.In the next block it was shouted that the wife of the pimp Chōbei had gone mad and killed and eaten five children.A block further the number had risen to twenty-five.At the guardhouse of the Adzumabashi she had killed and gnawed a hundred adults.

These rumours were mingled with the strange tale of the old woman as to O'Iwa San. In time there were many who had witnessed the suicide of O'Taki, who were ready to swear they had seen the fearful lady of Tamiya. Chōbei first learned of the affair by being dragged from the grog shop to the guardhouse of the Adzumabashi. Here he was put under arrest. Distressed and discomforted he stood before the ruin in his home, under the eyes of his neighbours. These stood loyally by him. As happens in ward affairs in Nippon the aspect of the affair not immediately on the surface was slow to reach official ears. Thus it was as to the Tamiya phase involved. Chōbei had suffered much, and was in to suffer more. His fellow wardsmen were silent as to all but the actual facts needed for interpretation. The marvellous only filters out slowly. But they had their own way of dealing with him. The kenshi (coroner) made his report. Examinations, fines, bribes, the funeral costs, reduced Chōbei to his worst garment. With this after some weeks he was permitted to go free. The house owner had turned him out. The wardsmen had expelled him. Enough of Kazaguruma Chōbei—for the present.

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CHAPTER XVI

NEWS REACHES KWAIBA

Kwaiba was hard at it, practising his favourite arts. His saké cup stood before him, and from time to time he raised the bottle from the hot water, testing its temperature with skilled hand. He accompanied the action with a continual drone of a gidayu. Kwaiba by no means confined the art of gidayu recitation to the heroic tales usually therewith associated. His present effort was one of the suggestive and obscene ukarebushi, quite as frequent and as well received in the gidayu theme containing them. Kibei listened and applauded, with cynical amusement at the depravity of the impotent old man. Kwaiba had found an excellent bottle companion, and renewed his own former days in the "Quarter," with the fresher experiences retailed by Kibei. Said Kwaiba—"All has gone well. For half the year Kibei has been the son of Kwaiba. He has brought luck into the house." Kibei bowed respectfully. Continued the old man—"Iémon with his whore is fast destroying Tamiya by riot and drinking. Chōzaémon is a fish in the net. The debt of ten ryō has doubled into twenty ryō, which at any cost he must repay.Kwaiba will make him cut belly if he don't.And Tamiya!Old Tamiya; Matazaémon!O'Iwa is paying his debt to Kwaiba by becoming an outcast, perhaps a beggar somewhere on the highway.If she shows her face in the ward, seeking 'cash' to keep life in a wretched carcass, this Kwaiba will send her to the jail, to rot as vagrant.But what did become of her?Iémon has never spoken."Kibei shrugged his shoulders."A close mouthed fellow; too wise to talk of himself.He would but say that Chōbei took the affair in hand."Kwaiba threw up his hands in horror and merriment.Said he—"'Tis rumoured the fellow is a pimp. But surely he could not dispose of O'Iwa in his line. The very demons of the Hell of lust would refuse all intercourse with her."

Just then Kakusuké presented himself. "Report to make to the Go Inkyō Sama. Inagaki Dono sends his compliments to Itō Sama. The papers of transfer are these; by the hand of Kakusuké." As he took the documents, said Kwaiba in answer to Kibei's inquiring look—"Your honoured parent has favoured this Kwaiba. The transfer is of farms in Kazusa for others in Shimosa. Thus all can be brought under one hand. A single nanushi (bailiff) can manage the whole property in the two villages." —"But the office... ," objected Kibei. He had the samurai instinct against the slightest taint of failure in obligation. "Let Kibei San deign to follow in the footsteps of Kwaiba. The successor to the nanushi recently deceased is a child. Kwaiba is in no haste to provide a substitute pending majority. The right will lapse, and at majority the boy can be found occupation elsewhere, to no small gain in the revenue. Out of sight, out of mind. Kwaiba's present manager is unsurpassed; so is the income he manages to gather." He looked around in some surprise, seeing that Kakusuké still maintained his position, although dismissed. Then noting him closely—"What has happened, Kakusuké? Your colour is bad. Too cordial entertainment by the chūgen of Inagaki Dono? Or has Kakusuké seen a ghost?"

"Kakusuké has seen O'Iwa San; of Tamiya.Rather would he have seen a ghost; if indeed it was not a demon he saw."Kwaiba started—"O'Iwa!Where?"—"It was at the brothel of Toémon, chief of the night-hawks, at Yoshidachō in Honjō.Mobei the toilet dealer had suffered direfully at her hands.Meeting her unexpectedly, the fool let out all he knew of the happenings in the ward.In a rage she flew on him.'To seven lives a curse on Iémon Dono, on Akiyama Sama, on Kondō Sama.'"—He hesitated; then added—"on the Go Inkyō Sama.Then in a straight line she flew off toward the canal.Did she drown herself?This Kakusuké could not ascertain.Going to the aid of Mobei, mauled and prostrate on the ground, the whole story was learned. Chōbei had sold her for life to Toémon, to serve as a night-hawk."

Itō Kwaiba sat straight up. His idle braggart words of a few moments before came home to him. In Kibei he found no encouragement. After all Kibei was a samurai; harsh, but with the courage of his caste and profession. He spoke openly—"It was an outrageous deed. To sell a samurai woman to such a life! It stinks. This comes of bringing in a low dog (yarō) such as this Chōbei. Did Iémon know of his intention?" He looked Kwaiba in the eye, but the latter met him squarely—"What Iémon knew or did not know, this Kwaiba knows not. But of this event he must know—and at once. Kakusuké, go in all haste to the house of Tamiya Sama. Kwaiba would consult with him." Kibei fidgetted and fumed. He walked up and down the room. Then abruptly—"Condescend to pardon the presence of Kibei. The honoured father having matters to discuss with the diviner—he finds no amusement in the counsellor." As he was withdrawing Iémon entered. Their greeting was cold to the extreme. Iémon knew that Kibei hated and despised him; as much as he, Iémon, hated and feared Kibei. Kwaiba called sharply to his genial son—"Pray be within call, if needed." He was glad to see the surly fellow's exit. In some things Kwaiba felt fear. The stiff courage of Kibei made him ashamed openly to air his weakness. He broke the news at once to Iémon. "Kakusuké has seen O'Iwa." Iémon looked at him curiously. Was Kwaiba frightened? Said the one-time priest—"What of that? She lives in Edo. A meeting with her is quite likely; at least for a man of the grade of Kakusuké." He smiled grimly—"But... ," said Kwaiba. He plunged into the story of the chūgen in its full details. Iémon listened carefully. "Ah! She is likely to come here." —"Come here!" bellowed Kwaiba. "Just so," answered Iémon. "If she seeks vengeance on this Iémon, on Kwaiba, or the others, where else would she come than Yotsuya. We cannot run away." Kwaiba gasped at his coolness—"And Iémon Dono, does he open Tamiya to the presence of its ex-lady and mistress?" —"A beggar, an outcast, importuning Tamiya; the severed body will lie in the ditch, for the gatherers of offal to cast as food to the dogs on the moor. Fear enters, but—honoured chief, condescend to follow the example of Iémon."

The round eyes in the round face of Kwaiba stood out. He leaned over and touched Iémon's sleeve. In astonishment Iémon noted the fright depicted in his face. The blustering old man at bottom was an arrant coward. Two knaves should understand each other—as did he and Chōbei. He felt that he had been gulled during the whole of his intercourse with this old fool. He should have bluffed; and not been bluffed. Said Kwaiba in lowered voice—"Kakusuké could see nothing of her. She disappeared into the waters of Warigesui. Suppose O'Iwa appears as a ghost, to take vengeance on Kwaiba...." He straightened up in astonishment and some anger at the derisive smile playing over the face of Iémon. Indeed Iémon was more than amused. Not at the circumstances, but at finding at last this weak spot in the man who had dominated him. Conditions, however, controlled him. It was fact that the physical O'Iwa might appear—to the distress and discomfiture of all concerned. They must stand together. He spoke with severity—"Rich and afraid of ghosts! Has not Itō Dono two spearmen when he goes abroad? When he has an interview with his lord does he tremble with fear? When the enemy in life, with all physical powers, is not feared; why fear a disembodied spirit deprived of all means of venting its wrath and spite? It is but the imagination which works havoc. None are more helpless than the dead. With them time and occasion has reached an end. If O'Iwa returns to Yotsuya, it will be in her own person. With O'Iwa, the beggar and night-hawk, our Kumi-gashira knows how to deal." —"Then Iémon knew the lot dealt out to O'Iwa." —"At first hand; from Chōbei himself. The lean knave has prospered by the affair. Iémon had no such desire to see him, as to secure his costly presence at the dinner so unfortunately witnessed by Mobei.... But deign to call for wine; drive out these vapours with wine. Honoured chief, condescend to play the host to Iémon." Iémon's manner was not wholly natural, as Kwaiba could have detected if more himself. He felt immensely relieved. A priest—surely he was one to know all about the nature of ghosts; was one to speak with authority. Iémon was hardly to be regarded as in ecclesiastical good odour. But Kwaiba was easily satisfied. He, too, roared—"Wine! Wine! Bring wine!" As by magic Kibei appeared at the welcome sound. He disliked Iémon, but he liked wine. The servants bustled around. The wine was heated—again and again. A feast of fish—with more wine—followed. It was late when Iémon left the house, the only sober member of the party. Of his hosts, one was maudlin, the other asleep. The ample resources of Tamiya, if not of benefit to his person, in these past two years had given him the chance to harden his head; and he had grasped it.

Iémon by no means had all the confidence he displayed before Kwaiba.He was a priest, but environment influences everybody.There was a possibility—discountenanced by experience, but existing.As he walked slowly along Teramachi his thoughts strayed back into the past."It was an ill bond between this Iémon and O'Iwa San.Without question she has drowned herself in the Warigesui.The body must be found and buried.Memorial services are to be recited, for one dying without relatives or friends (segaki)."The virtuous resolution was the outcome of his meditation and glances into the many graveyards passed in his progress through the temple-lined street.It was a beautiful street, with its overhanging trees, its open spaces populated by the many dead, its temples gorgeous in red and gilding amid the dark green of pine and cedar.Iémon on this night had to hasten his steps.Rain threatened.Gusts of wind came sharply from this side and that, driving the first drops of the coming storm. He reached home just as it broke with all its fury.

To O'Hana he would say nothing of Kwaiba's mission. On her remarking on the lateness of the hour, he made answer that the old man was out of sorts. Kibei was too robust a bottle companion for a man reaching toward his seventieth year. No matter how vigorous, Kwaiba's wine was showing on him. The two prepared for bed. O'Hana listened as the rain dashed in streams against the amado, as if trying to break its way in. She gave a little chuckle—"Who would have thought it!" —"What?" asked Iémon, perhaps a little tartly. He was nervous. O'Hana laughed—"That Iémon and this Hana should be where they now are. Their parting was on a night like this. Ah! At seeing a man weep Hana could have retired into a cave—forever. Only the fortunate accident of a drunken yakunin (constable) as guest enabled her to give warning.... And now! Once more united Iémon and this Hana live in luxury. Every wish is gratified. Thanks for the past which contained this meeting in its womb; thanks for the present in which happiness is secured:

A terrific gust struck the rain-doors. They bent and cracked before the force of the gale. The vivid white of lightning showed that one door had been forced from its groove. Iémon rose and replaced it. As he turned away suddenly the room was plunged in darkness. Said the voice of O'Hana—"The light of the andon has gone out. Oya! Oya! The lights in the Butsudan (altar) are lit. And yet this Hana extinguished them." Grumbled Iémon—"The wind has blown out the light in the andonDoubtless a spark was left in the wick of the altar light.Fire is to be dreaded; great care should be taken in extinguishing the light."As he relit the light in the night lamp, O'Hana went up to the Butsudan to extinguish the lights there. She put her hand out to take one. A sharp scream, and she fell back in confusion and fright. "An aodaishō in the Butsudan! Help! Aid this Hana!" As she fled the snake with a thud fell on the tatami. Unrolling its six feet of length, it started in pursuit. Iémon stepped behind it and caught it by the tail. A sharp rap behind the head stunned it. It hung limp in his hand. "Hana, please open the amado." —"No, no: this Hana cannot; move she will not." —"Coward!" said Iémon. "Time comes when Hana, for generations in the future existence, will wander hill and dale in such form." —"Ara!" The woman was properly shocked at this speech, wicked and brutal as an imprecation. "Has the life of Hana been so foul as to deserve such punishment in a future life? Surely 'tis not the priest of Reigan who speaks; nor Iémon." She could only see his lips move as he stood at the amado. "Evil was the connection between O'Iwa and this Iémon. Wander not as one unburied, but becoming a Buddha at once enter Nirvana. Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Wonderful the Law, wondrous the Scripture of the Lotus!" With the invocation he cast the stunned reptile far out into the garden. Returning, he said—"The aodaishō is the most harmless of snakes. The farmers keep it to destroy the rats which infest house and store rooms. How can Hana be afraid of snakes, living in this yashiki overgrown by weeds and grass, from roof to garden?" O'Hana did not reply in direct terms—"It is evil fortune to take a snake in the hand." —"Never mind such talk. It is the priest who speaks. This Iémon knows all about snakes. Go to sleep." She obeyed, knowing nothing about O'Iwa and the events of the day; yet her slumber was broken and restless. By morning she was in a high fever.[28]

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CHAPTER XVII

NEWS FROM KWAIBA

Kwaiba was reported as ill; very ill. His friends and dependents who had to pay visits of condolence, spoke of this illness with awe and terror. To understand what follows something must be said of the past of this man. The actor, drawing on the presumed knowledge of his audience as to the story in the gross, can pass this over with a speech or two; a horror-struck gesture and allusion. Not so the kōdan writer, who perforce must lay before his reader all the minutiæ of the case.

Itō Kwaiba did not brag when he spoke of his beauty as a boy, his handsome figure as a young man. These had brought him wealth and position; gained, it was whispered, in vilest service to his lord. In these days he had in his employ a chūgen named Isuké, or as some say Kohei. Engaged before the mirror Kwaiba was applying the paint and powder which of late had become necessary adjuncts to fit him to appear before his lord. A gesture of pain and discomfiture, and then Kwaiba turned irritably toward his satellite. "Isuké, you are a clever fellow. Kwaiba has needed no aids to his looks—up to recent days. Now paint and powder, all the armoury of a woman, or paraphernalia of an actor, hardly avail to conceal the blotches which disfigure Kwaiba's face and body. The voice broken and husky, the lightning pains in limbs and joints, these violet patches—in such state it soon will be impossible to act as attendant on his lordship's household service, as kami-yakuninWhat disorder eats into the life and happiness of Kwaiba?"

For a time Isuké made no answer, beyond a bow at his master's acknowledgment of his cleverness, and in which he heartily concurred.He seemed engaged in a close contemplation of the end of his nose. "Hei! Hei!" It was all that Kwaiba could get out of him for the moment. Then noting the growing anger Isuké began with—"Condescend beforehand to pardon this Isuké. Though the anger of the Wakadono (young lord) is hard to bear, yet a faithful servitor should speak. Deign to step this way." He conducted Kwaiba to one of those small retired rooms, opening on an inner garden and common to every properly built house of any size in Nippon. He closed the few rain-doors, shutting out the light. Then fetching a piece of camphor, he set fire to it. When the thick yellow light flared strongly he took up a hand-mirror and passed it to Kwaiba. Kwaiba was frightened at what he saw. His face was dark as that of a peasant of Satsuma. Said Isuké—"The darkness is shown up by the light of the burning camphor. The colour is due to the poison circulating between the body and the outer skin. The white sunlight does not show up this symptom. But there is another test." Lighting a candle, he took a long steel kanzashi needle and heated it to redness. Holding the cold end by his head towel he grasped the arm of Kwaiba. The latter drew back, afraid. "Nay, it will give no pain," said Isuké. He thrust the hot length of the needle several inches under the skin. As far as Kwaiba was concerned he might as well have thrust it into the straw matting (tatami) at his feet.Isuké withdrew the needle and carefully pressed the arm.A brownish liquor oozed out; not blood."The Danna has a nose—as yet."Kwaiba hastily applied his arm to that member.He turned his face to one side in disgust and horror—"Is this Kwaiba already dead and rotten?In such condition all is lost.Duty no longer can be performed.Service and income cease together.Isuké, there remains naught but to get out the mats.Kwaiba will cut belly."

Isuké examined him carefully and quizzically. Satisfied with his inspection, he said—"Deign to have confidence in Isuké. In former days he was not Isuké the chūgenSon of a doctor of the Dutch practice at Nagasaki; gambling, wine, women have reduced Isuké to the state of a servant.Family and friends long since have discarded and cast him out. The severance of relations between parent and child was formal. Isuké owes naught of service or duty to any but his master Kwaiba. Here is his refuge. Deign to give Isuké three silver ryō. The disease is curable. Trust the matter to Isuké. Soppin (mercury) duly applied will remove the poison, and with it all the disastrous symptoms. The two hundred and thirty tawara of income are enjoyed by the Wakadono. Service can be performed; and Isuké preserves such a good master." Flattered and frightened Kwaiba at once handed over the money. Isuké disappeared to secure the drug necessary to the "Dutch practice." Baths and potions, potions and baths, followed in due course. The promises of Isuké were fulfilled. The fearful symptoms gradually were alleviated. In the course of six months Kwaiba was himself again; his position was assured to him. He heaved double sighs—of relief from the nightmare which had pursued him; of anxiety at the nightmare substituted for it.

Kwaiba was a rake and a gambler. So was Isuké. The two hundred and thirty tawara of income was saved to Kwaiba—and Isuké. Not long after the cure was thus assured Isuké disappeared. Kwaiba sighed gently, with relief at the departure of one who knew too much of his affairs, and with a scared feeling on losing the only "doctor" in whom he had confidence. "These fellows come and go, like leaves on a tree. Isuké has grown tired, and deserted. Some day he may return. This Kwaiba is a good master." Isuké did return—in the form of a note from the Yoshiwara. Twenty ryō were needed to pay his debts to pleasure and gambling. Severely reprimanded, Isuké opened his eyes in astonishment. "Respectfully heard and understood: has the income been reduced? But that does not affect the share of Isuké. He keeps well within his limit." This was the first intimation Kwaiba had of Isuké's views as to his rôle of physician. In those days the doctor usually had the pleasure of performance, not of payment. Moreover with the great—like Kwaiba—performance was carried out at a distance; the pulse felt by the vibration of a string attached to the wrist, or at best by passing the hand under the coverlet. For a time Kwaiba's strange medical attendant devoted himself to his more prosaic duties of chūgen. Within ten days his master ransomed him from a resort in Shinagawa; price, ten ryō. A few weeks later he was heard from at a gambler's resort in Shinjuku. The note was peremptory—and for fifty ryō. Kwaiba lost all patience. Moreover, just then he held office very favourable for bringing this matter to an issue. But he must have Isuké; and have him in Yotsuya. As usual payment secured the presence of a repentant Isuké, full of promises of amendment. Kwaiba smiled, used soft words; and shortly after Isuké was confined to the jail on a trumped up charge of theft from another chūgenKwaiba, then acting as magistrate for the district, had full power.On notification he assured Isuké of a speedy release.This the unhappy man secured through a poisoned meal, following a long fast.He died raving, and cursing his master.No one heard him but his two jailers, who considered him crazy—this man of bad record.

Years had passed, but Isuké merely lay dormant in the mind of Kwaiba.Then came up the affair of Tamiya—the threatening curse of O'Iwa San.Iémon's counsel lasted but over night.With soberness and morning Kwaiba straightway showed the results of wrecked nerves and distorted imagination.Sleepless nights he now visited on his friends by an increasing irritability.The first few days of this state of Kwaiba were laughable.He spoke of O'Iwa San; not freely, rather with reticence.He made his references as of jesting expectation of her advent.Then he passed to boisterous tricks; springing out on the maids from dark corners or the turns in the corridors.Alarmed by these manifestations of the old man—not entirely strange, for he was a terror to the female element in his household—they soon noted that there was an unnatural wildness in his amusement at their discomfiture.Now he would talk of nothing but O'Iwa.From this hysterical mirth he passed to an hysterical fear. Afraid of visions of the Lady of Tamiya he stayed awake at night. To be alone appalled him. He would have others keep awake with him. He was now at the gibbering stage. "Night in the house of Kwaiba is to be turned into day. The day shall be the time for sleep. Lights! Lights! More lights!" He sat surrounded by his household, until the white light of dawn filtered through the spaces above the rain-doors. One of his women, her hair down for washing, met him unexpectedly in the corridor. With a howl of terror he started to flee. Then recognizing her, he flew on her and beat her almost to a jelly in his insane rage. People began to talk of the eccentricities of Itō Kwaiba—the honoured ward head.

Barely three weeks after Iémon's visit a violent scene occurred in the mansion of the Kumi-gashiraShouts and screams, the smashing of screens and sounds of a terrific struggle were heard in Kwaiba's room.Kibei, who with the men preferred night for sleep, rushed in.He found the old man standing, stark naked and alone.His attendants had fled—to a woman.His pillow sword drawn, Kwaiba was dancing to this side and that."Isuké!O'Iwa!Pardon!This Kwaiba is a wicked fellow!Isuké was poisoned by Kwaiba.O'Iwa San?Kwaiba sold her for a street whore.For seven lives they pursue him.Ah!A merry chase!But Kwaiba deals not with night-hawks.His game is higher.Away with the huzzy!"He had grasped in both hands the flower vase standing in the alcove (tokonoma).Kibei dodged, and catching him by a wrestler's hold, threw him to the ground.Kakusuké, just entering, was knocked flat by the heavy missile.Groaning, he rose, and with other servants came to the aid of the Wakadono.Kwaiba was overpowered and guarded during the remainder of the night.

With daylight he knew nothing of what had occurred; at least he made no reference to it, no response to the talk of others.His fear was now full on him.He babbled of nothing but Isuké and O'Iwa San.Now he was incapacitated, downright ill.There was no more turning of day into night, and vice versa. He was in the hands of his nurses. But to humour him Kibei marshalled the women. Their beds were made encircling that of Kwaiba in the midst. Kibei and Kakusuké were present. Thus they lay in this room brilliant with its scores of lanterns, its wax lights blazing on the lamp-stands. At the sides and in each corner were placed the scrolls of the holy sutra. Kwaiba in despair sought a sleep which would not favour him. "Some one walks in the corridor.... Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!... Kibei! Kibei!" The appeal to the man would bring quicker response than that to the Buddha. Indeed there was a sound, as of hair rubbing across the paper screens, of some one or something trying to peer through the opaque material. There was a rattle and dash of rain. A gust swept through the corridor, the shōji slightly parted. Kwaiba gave a shriek—"O'Iwa! O'Iwa San! Ah! The bloated face, the drooping eyelid, the corpse taint in the air. It catches Kwaiba's throat. O'Iwa the O'Baké would force away Kwaiba the living. Ha! Ha!" A stronger gust, and the shōji dislodged from its groove whirled round and fell noisily into the room. Terror gave strength to the sick man. Kwaiba sprang madly forward. It was horrible to see the ghastly renovation of this tottering, flabby, emaciated man, who yet inspired the fear of a maniac's reckless strength. The frightened women huddled and crouched in the now darkened room, lit but by a single andon near the alcove. Was Kwaiba mad? As the men fought over the ruins of the shōji, in the darkness of the corridor, at first faint as a mist, then distinctly seen, the women were assured of the presence of O'Iwa.In long black robe, face wide and bloated, of a livid greenish tint, hair in wild disorder, bulging forehead, swollen eyeless lids, she stood over the struggling men.Suddenly she thrust the severed head she carried into the face of Kwaiba, leering horribly at him the while.With a yell he fell flat on his back.The braver entered with lights.All gathered round the unconscious Kwaiba.

This scene was the crisis of his disorder. The disease, once dormant, now fell on him suddenly and with full force. Perhaps these mental symptoms were its first indication. More annoying to his comfort, ulcers broke out all over his body. The itching drove the man nearly frantic. His mad scratching spread the sores. The boils developed. They ran with pus. So terrible was the stench that few would stay by him. The women fled the room in terror, driven away by the running stream of physical corruption, the continual babble of lewdness from the corrupt mind. He soon noted their absence. Kibei, attended by the sturdy and faithful Kakusuké, remained to nurse him. Suddenly said Kwaiba—"O'Hana, the harlot of Reigan; this Kwaiba would have talk and dalliance with her. Summon her hither. Let wine and the samisen be brought, a feast prepared. O'Hana! O'Hana!" He raved so for the woman that Kibei thought her presence would quiet him. A request was sent to the house of Iémon. Wishing her to know nothing of the affair of O'Iwa, Iémon had kept silence. He would have refused the mission—on the pretext of a quarrel with Kwaiba and Kibei. O'Hana showed herself unexpectedly obstinate—"It is to the favour of Kwaiba Sama that Iémon owes this Hana. She has a duty to the past, as well as to the present." With a snarl she turned on him, glowering. Iémon shrank back. He passed his hand across the eyes into which O'Iwa had just looked. He no longer opposed her going.

O'Hana was still weak from repeated attacks of the fever which had visited her ever since the night Iémon had cast forth the aodaishōShe said that the snake had bitten her.It was the poison, not fever, working in her.Iémon had laughed at her proposal to try the exorcisms of the priest.Behind the irritation aroused by his scepticism was that peculiar clinging of a woman to an old lover, to a man with whom she had been intimate.In the heart of O'Hana there still remained a strong leaning to the man who had removed her from the rapid and nauseating life of the Fukagawa brothel, which cast her into the arms of anyone who paid the price and raised his finger. With time and the old conditions probably she would have been as unfaithful to Iémon as she had been to Kwaiba. The latter showing his desire, she would have answered his call. Even before this disease-eaten swollen mass of dropsy, she showed but temporary repugnance. Leaning over him, almost overcome by the stench, with endearing terms she strove to rouse him to consciousness and recognition of her. It seemed fearful to have him die without the word of parting. Kibei aided her by raising the old man. The result was a horrible frightened stare in eyes made large by fever and delirium. Long he gazed at her. Said the woman—"'Tis Hana; Hana once the intimate of Kwaiba. Deign to take courage. This is but a passing affliction. With Hana as nurse recovery to health is assured." She laid her hands on his shoulders. In so doing her hair, come loose, fell down around her wan face. Kwaiba was as galvanized. With a howl the old man pushed her violently away. "Scrawny wench! What impudence to show your face here! Ah! To the last moment, waking and in dreams, she pursues this Kwaiba. I sold you. 'Tis true—I sold you for a night-hawk—to Toémon of Honjō. Does Kwaiba consort with wenches of such ilk?" Raising his fist he dealt her blow after blow, all the time shouting—"O'Iwa! O'Iwa! The O'Baké solicits Kwaiba. Broken loose from Hell and the waters of Warigesui she would force away Kwaiba. Help! Help! Aid for Kwaiba! Away with the O'Baké!" The old man again had broken into his mad fit. The shouts of Kibei brought Kakusuké. Kwaiba's hands were detached from the masses of O'Hana's hair. The wounds on her face were not so deep as those inflicted on her mind. At last the secret was out. In bare feet she fled along the muddy street toward the Samonchō house.

It was true that the vileness of the disease, the vileness of Kwaiba's tongue, had driven the women from attendance in the sick room to the remotest quarters of the house.But there was a deterrent even to their now limited service.All said the place where Kwaiba lay was haunted. Under press of necessity a maid had brought needed medicaments to the sick man's room. Putting down the light she carried on the rōka, she pushed open the shōji to enter the outer chamber. Her robe caught as she did so.

Turning to release it she gave a fearful shriek. Standing in the corridor, at the open screen behind her, were two tall figures robed in black. With dishevelled hair, broad white flat faces, bulging brows, eyelids swollen and sightless, yet they gazed through and through the onlooker and into the farther room. One creature, even more hideous with drooping lid and baldness extending far back, half moved, half fell toward the frightened maid. The woman's screams now were mingled with wild laughter. Kibei came rushing out, sword drawn, to find her in a fit of mad hysterics. Catching the drift of her broken phrases he went out on the rōka. There was no one there. Haori and kimono, hung up there to dry, rustled and moved a little in the draft.Had these frightened the woman?Kakusuké carried her back to her companions.Henceforth no one would enter that part of the building occupied by the sick man.Kibei as son, Kakusuké the old and faithful attendant, were isolated in their nursing.

Kibei noted the sick man's face. "Father, why the forehead so wrinkled? Is pain condescended?" Said Kwaiba—"'Tis the rats; they gnaw and worry at Kwaiba." —"Rats?" replied Kibei in some astonishment. He looked around. The shōji were tight closed. Kwaiba noted the inspection. He shook his head, and pointed to the rama-shōji, the ornamental open work near the ceiling.This could not be obviated."Auntie (Obasan) is old and deaf.She sleeps; while rats, attracted by the foul sores of the scrofulous child, enter and attack the infant in its cradle.The child gets thinner and weaker every day; then dies.A terrible creature is the rat."So much for the opinion of Nippon.Kibei had brought a mosquito net.Its edges were weighted down with heavy stones. Thus the watchers could not be taken by surprise. Under its protection the sick man was saved from annoyance.

Said Kibei—"This illness is most tedious.Could not Kibei go to the Yoshiwara for a space?The letters of the Kashiku (oiran) accumulate. Kibei has nothing to give, and has given no explanation for not giving. What thinks Kakusuké?" Kakusuké was brave. Moreover he knew the Wakadono was brave. The prospect, however, of facing his old master in a crazy fit—and perhaps O'Iwa—had no attraction. He gave his advice—"The Go Inkyō Sama is in a very precarious state. He is now very weak. The worst may happen at any moment. For the Wakadono to be taking his pleasure at the Yoshiwara would arouse criticism in the ward; nay, even more than criticism. It would be held unfilial. Deign to reconsider the purpose." Kibei looked sourly at the swollen corruption which represented Kwaiba—"How does he hold on! His strength must be great." Kakusuké shrugged his shoulders—"The Go Inkyō Sama will not die easily. He has much to go through yet." —"In the name of all the kami and Buddhas, how has he come to such an end? He is a sight to inspire fear—in those who can feel such." Replied Kakusuké with sly look—"The Go Inkyō Sama has lived high, and loved beyond measure. The Wakadono does well to reconsider his purpose."

The night was passing.The two men, worn out by the continued watching and nursing, after vain struggle to keep awake had gone to sleep.Kakusuké was in the room with Kwaiba.In his slumber Kibei was back in the fencing room.The clash of the wooden swords (bokken), the cries of the contestants, rang clear in his ears. He woke to find rain and storm shaking and tearing at the amado. But it was the shouts of Kakusuké, standing at the shōji, which had aroused him—"Danna Sama!Danna Sama!Wakadono!At once!At once!Deign to hasten!"Kibei rushed into the next room.In fright Kakusuké pointed to the mosquito net.A figure stood upright within it, swaying, gesticulating, struggling. It was a figure all black and horrible. "Un! Un!" grunted Kwaiba. He was answered by a mincing, gnawing sound. "Father! Have courage! Kibei is here." He rushed at the heavy stones, to toss them to one side and enter the net. The swaying figure within suddenly toppled over in a heap. With his sword Kibei tore and severed the cording of the net. The black mass of rats scattered to the eight directions of space. On approaching Kwaiba a terrible sight met the eye. Eyes, ears, nose, chin, toes and fingers had been torn and eaten off. The lips were gnawed away and exposed to view the grinning teeth. A feeble groan—and Kwaiba had met his end. Neither Kibei nor Kakusuké dared to touch the foul body. In their panic the two men looked in each other's faces. "Namu Amida Butsu! Holy the Lord Buddha, Amida!" prayed Kibei, on his knees before the corpse. "Namu Amida Butsu!" answered Kakusuké.[29]

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CHAPTER XVIII

IN THE SHADOW OF THE GO-INKYŌ

Said a neighbour next day, on meeting his fellow-gossip—"Ah!Is it Goémon San?It is said the Go Inkyō is to be congratulated."Kamimura Goémon sniffed.He was a long man; with long face, long nose, long thin arms, long thin legs; a malicious man, who longed to give advice to his fellows which they much disliked to hear, and liked to see them writhe under the infliction.In fact this epitome of length rarely spoke in good faith or temper—"The Go Inkyō is to be congratulated?Escaping the troubles of this world, perhaps he has fallen into worse troubles in the next."At this unorthodox reply Mizoguchi Hambei showed surprise.Continued Goémon—"The Go Inkyō died a leper, eaten by the rats.Such an end hardly calls for congratulations."Mizoguchi gasped, with round eyes and round face."Extraordinary!"—"Not at all," replied Kamimura, complacently tapping the palm of one hand with the elongated fingers of the other."The Go Inkyō drove out O'Iwa San from Tamiya.He gave O'Hana in her stead to Iémon as wife.Hana the harlot!Cursed by O'Iwa in dying, he has met this frightful end.Akiyama, Natsumé, Imaizumi will surely follow.As will all those involved in the affair."—"But is O'Iwa San really the cause of the death?The Go Inkyō in life was not the most careful of men in conserving health."This was timidly interjected by a third party.Kamimura suppressed him with a scowl—"Of course it is O'Iwa San.Has she not been seen?The women of the house answer for it.Only Kibei the sceptic, and Kakusuké who would face the devil in person, attempt to deny it."He threw up a hand.With unction—"Ah!It inspires fear.Small is the profit of wickedness and malice.He is a fool who indulges in either....How cold it is for the time of year!"

Said the interloper—"But the congratulations have to be rendered all the same.It will be necessary to attend the all-night watch.How vexatious!Perhaps O'Iwa San will not appear.There is no getting out of it?"—"Certainly not," answered Kamimura."The Go Inkyō was the head of the ward association.Twelve neighbours have been invited to the watch.At dawn the body is to be prepared.A pleasant undertaking, if all that is said be true!The viands will be of the best, the wine no worse and plentiful.None must fail to attend."He smacked his lips.The others likewise, but much less heartily.

It was an unwilling band which crawled in laggard procession through rain and mud and the length of the Teramachi to Kwaiba's house. A dōshin, the ward chief, a rich man, the mansion displayed all its splendour. The atmosphere, however, was oppressive. Kibei greeted the guests with heartiness, and accepted their condolence and gifts with lavish thanks and the cheerful face of him that profiteth by the funeral. Kakusuké was his main aid in connection with the Go Inkyō's last appearance. Occasionally a timid white-faced woman was seen, but she would flit away from the scene of these festivities, to seek the companionship of her panic-stricken fellows. Entering the funereal chamber the body was found, laid out and decently swathed so as to cover, as far as possible, the horrible nature of the death. On a white wood stand was the ihai in white wood, a virtuous lie as to the qualities of the deceased. It ran—Tentoku Gishin Jishō Daishi. Which can be interpreted—"A man of brilliant virtues, virtuous heart, and benevolent temperament." Screens, upside down, were placed at the head:

"Alas!The screen: the carp descends the fall."[30] Akiyama, Natsumé, Imaizumi, were the last to appear. The former had been composing a violent quarrel between his two friends—the long and the fat. Much recrimination had passed, and the usually peaceful Imaizumi was in a most violent and truculent humour. He glared with hate on Natsumé, who now aided Akiyama in efforts to soothe his anger. On entering the assembly the looks of all were composed. "A retribution for deeds in the past world. Old; but so vigorous! The offering is a mere trifle. This Kyuzō would burn a stick of incense." Kibei extended his thanks and suppressed his smile as much as possible. He was breathing with full lungs for the first time in weeks. The storm was over; happiness was ahead; the clouded sky was all serene. "Thanks are felt. This Kibei is most fortunate: nay, grateful. Such kindness is not to be forgotten during life." —"The Inkyō an hotoké; Iémon Dono and O'Hana are the husband and wife not present?"The question came from some one in the room."O'Hana San is very ill.Her state is serious.Iémon does not leave her."Akiyama answered for the truant pair.Kibei's joy was complete.

Akiyama, Natsumé, Imaizumi were standing by Kwaiba's body.Kamimura slowly approached.The long man's face was longer than ever; longer, much longer than that of Natsumé; and Kibei was not in the running.Goémon meditatively fondled his nose; on the pretence of concentrating thought, and for the purpose of relieving that member from the savour arising from Kwaiba's bier.This was no bed of roses—"Yes, the Inkyō is indeed dead."He sniffed."Soon it will be the turn of all of you—to be like this;" another sniff—"of Iémon and O'Hana, of Natsumé and Imaizumi, of this Akiyama San."The latter gave a violent start.With hand to his nose also, he turned on the intruder.Continued Goémon—"A plot was concocted against O'Iwa San.Beggared and driven from the ward, deceived and sold as a street harlot, this death of the Inkyō is but the first in the roll of her vengeance.Kamimura speaks with pure heart and without malice.You men are not long for this world.Is Akiyama San reconciled?And...."He pointed a skinny finger at Kyuzō, then at Jinzaémon."You show it.Your eyes are hollow; your nostrils are fallen in.The colour of the face is livid. You seem already to be hotoké, prepared to lie with the Go Inkyō."Akiyama found his tongue.He burst out in a rage—"The jest is unseemly.Kamimura San goes too far.It is true this Chōzaémon gave counsel to Itō Kwaiba.Kyuzō and Jinzaémon took some part in what followed.But we acted on the orders of Itō Dono, of Iémon San.On the first will be visited any grudge."Goémon laughed harshly.He pointed to the corpse."Here he lies.How did he die?Goémon does not jest, and the argument of Akiyama San is rotten.The master bids the servants to beat the snow from the bushes.The snow falls on them; not on him.How now Akiyama San?"Chōzaémon turned away discomfited.All three felt very bad—in mind and body.

The bell of Sainenji struck the eighth hour (1 a.m.). Just opposite, its clangour filled the whole mansion with a ghostly sound. In the depths of night this inert mass of metal seemed a thing of life, casting its influence into the lives of those present, rousing them to face grave issues. Noting the absence of Natsumé, the round-faced, round-eyed, round-bodied Imaizumi followed after. Kibei came forth from the supper room, to find his guests all flown. "Where have they gone to, Kakusuké?" He looked around in amazement—"They were taken with pains in the belly. With this excuse they departed. Yotsuya is afflicted with a flux." The chūgen answered in the dry and certain tone of one unconvinced. Kibei shrugged his shoulders. "There is naught wrong with wine or viands?" —"Nor with the guests," replied Kakusuké. "They are cowards, who have caught some inkling as to the not over-nice death of the Go Inkyō." —"The latter day bushi are not what the bushi were of old; at least this brand of them. Ah! These wretched little bureaucrats; bushi of the pen. Two men to eat a supper prepared for twelve sturdy trenchers. Well: two are enough to wash the corpse. Lend a hand Kakusuké." —"Respectfully heard and obeyed," replied the chūgen

The white dress for the last cover to the body was laid ready.Secured by Kwaiba many years before in a pilgrimage to the holy Kōyasan, the sacred characters were woven into its tissue. Kakusuké dragged a large tub into the bathroom. Kwaiba's body was unswathed and placed in it. Kakusuké eyed his late master with critical and unfavourable eye. "Naruhodo! The Go Inkyō is a strange object. No eyes: nose, ears, lips gone; his expression is not a pleasant one.... Nay! The Wakadono is awkward. Throw the water from head to feet.... Take care! Don't throw it over Kakusuké. He at least is yet alive. The Wakadono is wasteful. More is needed. Deign to wait a moment. Kakusuké draws it from the well." He opened the side door and went outside. Kibei drew a little apart from the body. It stank. A noise at the sliding window (hikimado) in the roof made him look up. Oya! Oya! The face of O'Iwa filled the aperture—round, white, flat; with puffed eyelids and a sightless glare. With a cry of horror and surprise Kibei sprang to the door. As he did so slender attenuated hands groped downward. "Kakusuké! Kakusuké!" —"What is it, Wakadono?" —"O'Iwa: she looks down through the hikimado!She seeks the Inkyō!"Kakusuké gave a look upward—"Bah!It's the cat.Is the Wakadono, too, getting nerves?They are a poor investment."—"The cat!"Kibei sighed with relief.Nevertheless he kept his hand on his sword.

He turned round—to give a shout of surprise—"Kakusuké! Kakusuké! The body of the Go Inkyō is no longer here." As the astonished chūgen came running to look into the empty tub, both men nearly fell over in their wonder. The body of the Inkyō was whirling around the neighbouring room in execution of a mad dance. Followed by Kakusuké, his worthy son and heir sprang in pursuit. Invisible hands led Kwaiba and the pursuers into the darkness of the garden, into the rain and storm. Kibei heard the steps just in front of him. He pursued madly after them. "To lose his parent's body—this was against all rules of Bushidō." Thus comments the scribe of Nippon. Kibei could commit all the moral and physical atrocities except—failure in filial conduct to parent and lord; the unpardonable sins of the Scripture of Bushidō. Kakusuké soon lost his master in the darkness. Disconcerted and anxious he returned to secure a lantern. The wind promptly blew it out; then another, and a third. He stood on the rōka in the darkness to wait the return of the Wakadono. For the first time Kakusuké had noted failing purpose in his young master. He was more solicitous over this than over the strange disappearance of the Inkyō's body. Was the Wakadono losing his nerve; as had the O'Dono?

In time Kibei reappeared. To Kakusuké's inquiring glance—"Kibei pursued to Myōgyōji; then up the hill. Here sight was lost of the Inkyō. The darkness prevented further search. A lantern is next to worthless in this gale. Kakusuké, go to the houses of Natsumé and Imaizumi close by. They are young and will aid Kibei in the search." Kakusuké did not demur. Pulling his cape over his head, off he posted. He asked but to come across the Inkyō's body, in O'Iwa's company or not made no difference to this iron-hearted servitor. His mission was fruitless. The two men had expressed the intention of spending the night at the Kwaiba wake. Neither had as yet returned. Grumbled Kibei—"The filthy fellows! With this excuse to their wives they seek new pastures at Nakachō (Shinjuku), to spend the night in dissipation. 'Tis Natsumé who is the lecher. Gladly would he wean Imaizumi from his barely wed wife." —"Or wean the wife from Imaizumi Sama! Wakadono, nothing can be done now. The dawn should be awaited." With these sage comments the chūgen squatted at respectful distance from his master. From time to time one or other arose, to look sceptically into the empty tub in which once had reposed the Inkyō's body. Finally both nodded off into sleep. At dawn—don, don, don, don, came a loud knocking on the outer gate. Kakusuké went out, to return with astonished face and portentous news. The dead bodies of Natsumé Kyuzō and Imaizumi Jinzaémon had been found at the foot of the baké-ichō, a huge tree close by the guardhouse.Finger tip to finger tip three men could not girdle this tree.With the bodies of the men lay that of a woman. Two corpses, man and woman, were stark naked. Kibei's presence, as the successor to Kwaiba's office, was required.

He prepared at once to start for the Okidō. The tale was in time learned from the prolix Kamimura Goémon, who had witnessed part at least of the scene. As he was knocking at his door on the Shinjuku road, having just returned late from the watch at Kwaiba's house, rapid steps were heard in the street. A man, recognized as Kyuzō, passed, running at top speed. He dragged along by the hand a woman, the wife of Imaizumi. The two were nearly naked. Close in the rear pursued Imaizumi Jinzaémon, his drawn sword in his hand. They sped up the wide road. Goémon stepped out, to follow at a distance this flight and pursuit. At the ichō tree the fugitives were overtaken. The woman was the first to be cut down. Kyuzō turned to grapple with the assailant. Unarmed his fate soon overtook him. He fell severed from shoulder to pap. Having finished his victims Imaizumi seated himself at the foot of the tree, and cut open his belly. "Long had such outcome been expected," intoned the long-nosed man. The case needed no explanation. Others echoed the opinion of Goémon, who was merely many fathoms deeper in the scandal of the neighbourhood than most of them. It was agreed to hush the matter up. Reporting his own experience, to the astonishment of his hearers, Kibei, accompanied by Kakusuké, started down Teramachi toward Samégabashi. As they passed the Gwanshōji attention was drawn by a pack of dogs, fighting and quarrelling in the temple cemetery. A white object lay in the midst. With a shout the men sprang in. Tearing up a grave stick Kibei rushed into the pack, driving off the animals. There lay the body of Itō Kwaiba, brought hither by the hands of O'Iwa to be torn and mangled by the teeth of the brutes. Thus was it that the funerals of Itō Kwaiba, Natsumé Kyuzō, and Imaizumi Jinzaémon took place in one cortége on the same day and at the same time. The postponement in the first instance—was it providential?

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CHAPTER XIX

TAMIYA YOÉMON: WITH NEWS OF KONDŌ ROKURŌBEI AND MYŌZEN THE PRIEST

Tamiya Yoémon was stumbling home in all haste from the funeral of Itō Kwaiba. He was full of news for the wife, O'Kamé. The neighbours could talk of nothing but the strange happenings in the ward, and details lost nothing in the telling; perhaps gained somewhat by the process. Most edifying was the reported conduct of the wife of the late Natsumé Kyuzō, the observed of all observers at the funeral, the object of that solicitous congratulation which embodies the secret sigh of relief of friends, neighbours, and relatives at the removal of a prospective burden. Natsumé had left behind him a wife, an old mother, an infant child, and huge liabilities. To administer this legacy—and perhaps to get rid of her mother-in-law—the wife had promptly and tearfully sacrificed her status, and sold herself for a term of years to the master of the Sagamiya, a pleasure house at Shinagawa post town. The sum paid—one hundred ryō—relieved the immediate future.The neighbours derided the ignorance of the Sagamiya in accepting the uncertain bail of Akiyama Chōzaémon.If the lady behaved badly, small satisfaction was to be obtained of her security."Ignorance is bliss."Let the Sagamiya bask in both and the beauty of the prize.Meanwhile their concern and admiration were for the lady destined to this post town of the crowded Tōkaidō, the stopping place of high and low, noble and riff-raff, entering Edo town.Of the inmates of the pleasure quarters, the harlots of Shinagawa, Shinjuku, Itabashi, were held in lowest esteem.

Arrived at his door Yoémon stopped short in surprise and alarm.To his loud call of "Wife!Wife!"answer there was none.Looking within he could barely distinguish objects through the thick smoke which filled the house. The last thing the Nipponese would do under such conditions, would be to throw open doors and panels. This would convert the place at once to a blazing conflagration. Where was the fire getting its start? Choking and spluttering Yoémon groped his way through the rooms into the rear. Wherever the fire was, it was not in the living rooms. The smoke was accentuated on reaching the kitchen. Here was a smell of burning rice, of Yoémon's dinner gradually carbonizing under the influence of an element other than the juices of his round stomach. Looking into the room, through the thickened haze he saw the flame of the fire brightening. O'Kamé the wife could be made out, on her knees before the portable furnace. She was blowing a mass of slivers and brushwood into flame by the aid of a bamboo pipe. It was this stuff, green and partly wet, which gave out the choking acrid smoke. Yoémon was angered beyond measure at the sight of his ruined meal and expectations. "Kamé! Kamé! What are you doing? Have you gone mad? Ma! Ma! The dinner is being ruined. You are ill. Kamé's head whirls with head-ache. Yoémon will act as cook. Go to bed—at once." At his peremptory speech the wife looked up into the face of the husband standing over her. She scowled at him in a way to cause fear. "Not a shō of rice; not a mon. Yoémon would give freely to a beggar, rather than confer a 'cash' on Iwa. Yoémon sells me as a street harlot." He started back in fright before the snarling distorted visage. The wife sprang to her feet. Pash! On his devoted head descended the hot iron pan with its content of stew. "Ah! Kamé is mad—clean daft." With a wild laugh she seized the pot full of boiling rice and began to pour it into the drain. When he tried to stop her, he received the mess full in his bosom—"Mad? Not at all. This Kamé never felt in better spirits. When grass grows in Samonchō we enter Nirvana. Ha! Ha! Ha! To hasten the happy time!" With a kick she knocked over the furnace. In an instant the tatami was in a blaze. Yelling like mad, shouting for help, Yoémon leaped from the house. O'Kamé seized the burning brands in her bare hands, hurling them into this room and into that. Outstripping the old Yoémon, the younger men of the neighbours rushed in. The mad woman was soon overcome and carried from the burning building. Nothing else was saved. They took her to the house of Akiyama Chōzaémon. Here she was tied hand and foot, and put in a closet. The old man Yoémon stood by in despair, watching the progress of events. Before the conflagration was extinguished his own and four other houses were destroyed. He was a ruined man; responsible for all.

Myōzen the priest had just set foot on the slope leading up from Samégabashi to Yotsuya. A somewhat long retreat at Myōhonji, attendance at the ceremonies held on the Saint's (Nichiren) birthday, had kept him in ignorance of recent events in Yotsuya. In the dawn of the beautiful day of earliest 3rd month (our April 13th) he had set out from Kamakura. Sturdy as were the priest's limbs, yet he was a little tired. He rested at the foot of the hill. Then his eyes grew big with astonishment. In the waning afternoon a funeral came wending its way downwards. But such a funeral! Two spearmen led the way. Then came a long train of attendants. Three catafalques followed, the first a most imposing bier. Then came the relatives. Kibei on horseback headed these. The women rode in kagoThat it was a ward funeral Myōzen had no doubt, both from its source and make up.He noted a parishioner in the cortége."Kamimura Uji!"The long-limbed, long-faced, long-tongued man left the ranks and obsequiously greeted his spiritual father.At Myōzen's question he expressed gratified surprise, and unlimbered his lingual member at once—"Whose honoured funeral this?Nay!It is a triple funeral; that of Natsumé Kyuzō, Imaizumi Jinzaémon, the Go Inkyō, our ward-head.It is owing to this latter that there is such an outpouring of the ward, with attendance of barrier guards and firemen.Although the ending of Natsumé and Jinzaémon was not edifying, that of our honoured once head gratified still more the public curiosity. Gnawed and eaten by the rats he died most horribly." He told of the eventful night. "Hence delay in the burial. The deaths of Natsumé and Imaizumi were almost coincident. The body of the adulterous woman, rejected by both families, was cast out on the moor." He noted with satisfaction the great impression his tale made on the priest, as also the clerical garb and rosary held in hand. "Pray join the band. A little re-adjustment...." He bent down. With the baton he held in hand as leader of his section he carefully dusted the robes. Adjusting the folds he pronounced the results as most presentable. "The honoured Oshō is ready to bury or be buried." Myōzen took this remark in very ill form. He prepared to answer tartly, but curiosity overcame his weariness and ill temper. The procession was moving fast. He fell at once into line, with hardly an acknowledgment of Kamimura's courtesy, as this latter hastened forward to his place.

His neighbour in the procession explained.The nature of the deaths of the three men had aroused the feeling in the ward.Their connection with a conspiracy against O'Iwa San was now generally known.Without doubt it was owing to her vengeance that they had died as they did.Let them lie outside the quarter.The protest to Kibei was respectful but emphatic.A newcomer, he had made no great resistance.It was determined to bury them at the Denzu-In, close by the mound of the nameless dead of Edo's great fire of more than half a century before.Hence the direction of the cortége.As the cemetery of the great temple was approached the curiosity of Myōzen, morbidly growing the while, became overpowering.The priest slipped from rank to rank.At the grave he stood in the very front.As long-time friend he besought a last glance at the dead.Those given to Natsumé and Imaizumi called forth a careless prayer for each.The men hesitated before raising the cover concealing the body of Kwaiba.At Myōzen's peremptory gesture they complied.He bent over and looked in.Frozen with horror, he was fascinated by those great holes for eyes, large as teacups, which seemed to fix him. Dead of leprosy, gnawed and torn by beasts, the face presented a sight unforgettable. The holes torn in the flesh twisted the features into a lifelike, though ghastly, sardonic grin, full of the pains of the hell in which Kwaiba had suffered and now suffered. A stench arose from the box which made the hardened bearers hold their noses and draw away. Yet the priest bent down all the closer. In his corruption the lips of the old man seemed to move. Did Kwaiba speak? Closer and closer: Myōzen seemed never satisfied with this inspection. The poise and brain gave way. Priest and corpse met in the horrible salutation. With exclamation the attendants sprang forward. Myōzen in a dead faint was carried apart and laid on the ground. Some priests of the hall busied themselves over him. Somewhat revived he was taken off to the residence quarters of the temple, and soon was able to return to his home. "Curious fool." Kibei was greatly angered. He was easily irritated in these days. The delay in the rites almost maddened him. Would old Kwaiba—his father Itō Inkyō—never be got out of men's sight? Out of Kibei's sight?

That night Myōzen sat alone in his quarters.Somewhat shaken, he was ashamed and regretful at thought of his unseemly curiosity of the afternoon.The priests of Denzuin had regarded him with covert amusement and repulsion.He had noted one passing the sleeve of his robe over his lips.Myōzen explained the incident by more than usual weariness.They condoled with him, and made horrified gestures of ill-disguised glee when they thought his attention was elsewhere.In his present privacy the scene at the grave came back to mind again and again."Ah!Ah!If this Myōzen had not looked.The Inkyō's face was terrible.Myōzen cannot put it from mind."He glanced at the pages of the sutra lying before him.He turned them over.He knew they spoke of the horribleness of death; but what was the cold script to the actuality?It was no use, the attempt to read.Kwaiba's face interposed."Oh!That salute!The very idea of that terrible salute, the contact with corruption!" He was as if plunged in an icy bath. He started nervously. It was but rain dashing against the amado, rattling and twisting in the gale. He could not sleep. That night he would watch. The fire was hot in the hibachi (brazier). He went to the closet to get some tea. On opening it he sprang back with a shout of alarm, to lean trembling and quivering in every limb huddled against the wall. "Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō!" One character of the wondrous formula secured pardon and safety to the believer in that paradise of Amida which Myōzen was in no great haste to visit. Shivering as with a chill intently he watched the animal as it glided along the edge of the room, to disappear into the shadows. He shrugged his shoulders wearily. A rat had frightened him almost out of his wits! His heart beat tumultuously, almost to suffocation; then it seemed to cease altogether; to resume its wild career.

Hardly was he again seated, his hand on the kettle—don—don, don—don, don, don, don. Some one was violently knocking on the door. Myōzen sprang up. Approaching the amado with silent step he eyed the bolts: "All secure." Snatching up a stake close by he jammed it in between floor and crosspiece. Leaning heavily on the panel he listened. "Myōzen Sama! Oshō Sama! Condescend to open; deign to give entrance! The storm nearly throws one to the ground. News! News for the Oshō! A request to make!" Myōzen held his ground against this outer temptation. "Who are you, out at this hour of the night and in such weather? To-night Myōzen does not open. Go away; return in daylight." —"But the honoured Oshō Sama is needed. His presence is requested. Deign to open; at least to hear the message. The priest aids the afflicted." There was something in the voice he recognized, despite its terror. Regaining some courage he parleyed. The priest was for the consolation of the unfortunate. O'Iwa had been, was unfortunate. He could not open. "Who are you? Unless the name be given this Myōzen holds no further talk. To-night he is unwell, positively ill. Come at dawn and Myōzen will receive you." —"Who? Does not the voice answer for the person? This is Tomobei, from the house of Kondō Rokurōbei. Deign to open. The master needs and calls for the aid of the Oshō Sama."

Voice and speech, the importance of Kondō in the life of Myōzen, broke down his hesitation. Slowly he removed the bars. Tomobei entered, dripping with wet. He cast down his straw coat at the entrance. The man's eyes and manner were wild. He kept casting frightened looks into the wild welter of storm outside. When the priest would withdraw into the room he held him by the skirt. "What has happened?" commanded Myōzen briefly. Replied Tomobei—"A terrible thing! To-day the master was ready to attend the funeral of Itō Inkyō. The wife was engaged in putting the house kimono in the closet. O'Tama was playing on the upper rōka. She is but seven years old. Leaning far over to see her father leave, she lost her balance. Down she fell, to be impaled on the knife-like points of the shinobi-gaeshiThe sharp-pointed bamboo, protection against thieves, have robbed the Danna of his greatest treasure (tama).Deep into throat and chest ran the cruel spikes, to appear through the back.The sight inspired fear, so horrible was it.He could but call out—'Tomobei!Tomobei!'All effort to detach the child, to saw off the points, did but make matters worse.It was necessary to fetch a ladder.When taken down she was dead.Alas!Alas!The Okusama is nearly crazed.The Danna Sama in his cruel distress does but rage through the house.'Myōzen Oshō, he loved the child.Let Myōzen Oshō be summoned to say a prayer of direction, while yet the child spirit hovers hereabouts.'Such is the cry of the Okusama.Hence the presence of this Tomobei.Otherwise he would rather be scourged at the white sand than face the darkness in which O'Iwa San wanders abroad."Man and priest were weeping.The former in his fright and over the confusion and distress fallen on the household; the priest over the sudden and dreadful end of this child to whom the homeless one, the man devoted to the solitary life, had taken an unbounded affection as of a father. Great as was his terror, he forgot his own ills in the greater misfortune of the life-long friend. He remained bowed in prayer. "Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Oh! The wondrous law, the sutra of the Lotus!" He rose—"Myōzen comes."

As they struggled through the storm, Tomobei kept up a nonsensical, running talk, full of the superstitious fear of the man of the lower classes."Iya!The affair has been terrible, but misfortune is in the air....What's that!Ah!Something passes by ...above.O'Iwa!O'Iwa!"He seized the priest's arm and clung to him in terror.Myōzen's fears had all returned.He would have run away, but was too tightly held."Where!Where!"He shrieked and whirled around toward Samégabashi.Tomobei held on tenaciously to his skirts.An object was bearing down on them in the dark.Close upon priest and man they jumped to one side.A cold hand was laid on the neck of the cleric, who squawked with fear.A howl answered the howls and mad cries and blows of the two men, who now threw themselves flat on the ground to shut out sight of the apparition.The beast sped down the hill.Discomfited, Myōzen disentangled himself from the embraces of a broken water spout, which descending from the roof under which he had taken shelter, was sending its cold stream down his neck.Tomobei rose from the mud puddle in which he lay face downward.They gazed at each other."A dog!A wandering cur!"Myōzen eyed his once immaculate garments with disgust.How present himself in such a state!Tomobei read his thoughts and determined to keep a companion so hardly won."There are present but the master and the Okusama, Tomobei, and Kiku; other company there is none....Yes; the Ojōsan."—"The corpse needs no company," said Myōzen testily.In his disgrace and unkempt condition Myōzen was unduly irritated at his child friend. The business was to be gone through. They were opposite the cemetery of Sainenji, on its western side. Said Tomobei—"A paling is loose. There is no need to descend the hill. This is no cheerful spot at this hour. Deign to sprint it, Oshō Sama. In the time one can count ten the entrance at the rear is reached. Deign a spurt, honoured priest; deign to sprint." Myōzen felt he was in for everything this night. With Tomobei he tucked up his robes to his hams, as if entering a race. Crawling through the bamboo palings into the haunt of the dead, at it they went—a mad spurt across to Kōndo's house. Tomobei was the more active. He turned to watch the priest tripping over hillocks in the grass, knocking into gravestones hidden by the darkness. So near home, courage was returning. He burst into laughter at sight of Myōzen madly hammering a battered old stone lantern of the yukimidōro style. The broad-brimmed hat-like object he belaboured as something naturally or unnaturally possessed of life, all the while giving utterance to anything but priestly language. Tomobei ventured back to his rescue. Myōzen was quite battered and bleeding as the two rushed into Kondō's house.

The master was expecting them; but he threw up his hands as they appeared in the room. "Oshō Sama! Tomobei! What are you about! Why rush into the room, clogs still on the feet? Deign to withdraw. The tatami are stained and streaked with mud.... Water for the feet of the Oshō Sama! Tomobei, are you mad? Out with you: bring water to clean up this mess." In confusion the priest withdrew. His apologies were profuse as he reappeared—"Alas! Terrible the loss, and in such dreadful manner. Kondō Dono, Okusama, part at least of this grief Myōzen would take on himself. Great is the sorrow at this end of one just beginning life." The wife received the condolence of the priest with a burst of weeping. Then she turned fiercely on the husband—"It is all the fault of Rokurōbei. He was nakōdo for O'Iwa San in the marriage with Iémon. Turning against her, he took O'Hana into the house. Did she not spend her time in idling, and teaching the child the ways of her questionable life—'how to please men,' forsooth?... Ah! Tama did have pretty ways. Though but of seven years, she danced, and sang, and postured as would a girl double her age. Now thus cruelly she has perished." Her mind, reverted to the child, again took a turn. "The plot against O'Iwa—with Itō Kwaiba, Iémon, Chōzaémon—here is found the source of this calamity. O'Iwa in dying has cursed all involved. Now 'tis the turn of Kondō and his unfortunate wife." She ended in another outburst of tears, her head on the mats at the feet of the priest. Rokurōbei was tearing up and down the room, gesticulating and almost shouting—"Yes! 'Tis she! 'Tis she! The hateful O'Iwa strikes the father through the child. Ah! It was a cowardly act to visit such a frightful ending on one budding into life. O'Iwa seeks revenge. O'Iwa is abroad; and yet this Kondō cannot meet with her." Myōzen was almost deafened with his cries and noisy earnestness. Truly to bring peace into this household, with division reigning between husband and wife smitten with fear of the supernatural, would be no easy matter. His priestly experience taught him the safest way to bring about his object.

"'Tis true; 'tis true. But loud cries avail nothing. The aid of the Buddha for the deceased is to be sought." Apologetically he showed something of his condition to the wife. At once she rose. Outergarments were removed. Muddied undergarments were renewed. Myōzen went into the mortuary chamber. The little "Jewel" was laid out as in sleep. The wounded chest, the torn throat, were concealed by garments and a scarf-like bandage adjusted by a mother's sad and tender care. The incense sticks lay in clay saucers near the couch. "Oh, the wonderful Law! The sutra of the Lotus! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō!" He looked long at the little silent figure. His eyes were full of tears as he turned and took the hands of the weeping mother who had followed him into the room. Then for long he spoke in consoling tones. She was somewhat quieted when they returned.

Kondō Rokuōbei was still moving restlessly about the room.Now he was here, now there; from the death room he returned to the company; from them he passed to the kitchen.The wife thought of the friend and priest."Tomobei, go to the store-room and bring wine."Myōzen was a curious mixture.His weak spot was touched—"Deign it, honoured lady, for all.Let the occasion be made seemly, but more cheerful.Cause not sorrow to the dead by an unmeasured grief.This does but pain the Spirit in its forced communion with the living.Death perchance is not the misfortune of subsequent existence in this world, but a passage to the paradise of Amida."He spoke unctuously; as one full informed and longing for its trial.His homily had no effect in moving Tomobei, who was flatly unwilling to perform the service ordered."The wine...," broke in Kondō harshly.—"The go-down is at the end of the lot.The hour is very late, and the storm ...and other things ...it rages fiercely.This Tomobei...."—"Shut up!"roared his master, with easily roused anger.The maid O'Kiku timidly interposed—"There is a supply in the kitchen.This Kiku early brought it there, anticipating the need.Indeed the storm is terrible.One gets wet to the bone in traversing the yard."The wife caught the last words—"Aye!Wet and chilled the lost child spirit wanders, ringing its bell and vainly seeking aid and shelter; no aid at hand but that of the heartless hag in the River of Souls."[31] At the thought of the little O'Tama in cold and storm she broke down. Crying bitterly, she crept from the room and laid down beside the bier.

The wine was served.Myōzen drank.Then he drank again.His potations gave him confidence—for more drink—and recalled him to his functions. "Let us all pray. Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Wonderful the Law! Wonderful the sutra of the Lotus, explanatory of the Law by which mankind are saved, to enter the paradise of Amida. Be sure the wanderings of O'Tama will be short. Scanty is the power of the Shozuka no Baba. Soon shall the child sit upon a lotus. Early shall be her entrance into Nirvana. Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō!... Honoured master, let all join in. Command the servants to join in the recital of the Daimoku." Kondō waved a hand at Tomobei and O'Kiku, in assent and command. Vigorous were the tones of all in the responses. Myōzen drank again. He pressed the wine on the others; drinking in turn as they agreed. The night was passing. It was the eighth hour (1-3 a.m.).Said he—"Don't get drowsy.By every means avoid it.Now!A vigorous prayer."He raised his hand—"Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō!Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō!"But the responses were flagging.Said Myōzen—"This will never do; at this hour of the night."He drank again—to find that the supply had come to an end.Kondō was nodding.Tomobei, if awake, was deaf to words.Myōzen rose himself to fetch a new supply.

Kondō pricked up his ears. The temple bells were booming the hour watch in solemn unison. The rain splashed and pattered on the amado. A rustling, swishing sound was heard, close by, in the next room. Now it was as if a hand was passing along the screen. He sprang up, drawn sword in hand. His eyes were riveted on the shōji, anticipating an appearance.Then he laid a violent hand on the interposing obstacle and threw it back.A tall figure robed in black, with broad flat face and bulging brow, puffed eyelids in which were sunken little dots in place of eyes, hair in wild disorder framing the dead white face, stood before him."O'Iwa!O'Iwa!"The lamp was knocked over, but not before he dealt the one fierce upward blow.Madly he sprang on the apparition and slashed away in the dark."Kiya!"The cry rang loud. Kondō danced with joy, calling loudly for lights. "O'Iwa! O'Iwa! Kondō has slain the O'Baké, the enemy of his child! Rejoice with Kondō! The vendetta is accomplished!" In the darkness and confusion a groan was heard; then another, still fainter; then there was silence. Tomobei appeared with a light. He leaned over the long black robed body; to raise an alarmed face to his joyful master. "At what does the Danna Sama rejoice? What has he done? 'Tis Myōzen Sama, the Oshō Sama, who lies cut down. Dreadful has been the mistake of the Danna Sama. This is like to cost the House dear." —"Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō! Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō!" The sword had slipped from Kondō's hand, and in genuine grief he knelt beside the body of the unfortunate priest, seeking for some sign of life. Alas! Myōzen had almost been cut in two by the upward sweep of the sword. From liver to pap was one gaping wound. He lay in the pool of almost all the blood in his body. Gathered around the corpse the four people eyed each other with terror.

Don—don—don, don, don, don.They sprang up in a huddled mass.The sound was at their very shoulders."Some one knocks at the back door," said Tomobei."Go open it," commanded Kondō.Tomobei flatly refused, and without respect, nay with insolence.Kondō picked up and weighed in his hand the bloody sword.Why mingle vile blood with good?Instead of cutting the man down he went himself and opened the half door at the top.A woman, dripping with water, her hair in wild disorder, her face white as chalk, stood outside in the storm.Kondō gave an exclamation of surprise—"O'Kamé of Tamiya!How comes O'Kamé here?It was said that Yoémon San had shut her up, as one gone mad."The woman smirked with satisfied air—"Kondō Rokurōbei is seer as well as murderer.This Kamé was bound and imprisoned; nay, almost divorced.Myōzen, just dead at Kondō's hands, to-morrow was to pronounce the divorce.For so much, thanks to Kondō Dono.But O'Tama has died.Kamé would condole with Kondō San; burn a stick of incense for O'Tama. Condescend to grant entrance." Said Rokurōbei abruptly—"How knows O'Kamé of the death of Myōzen; who told her of the fate of O'Tama?" She laughed wildly—"Who? O'Iwa; O'Iwa is the friend of Kamé. It was she who loosed the bonds. 'O'Tama of Kondō's house is dead. O'Kamé should condole with the wife, the friend of this Iwa. Get you hence, for Kondō has murdered the priest.' ... So here we are; O'Iwa accompanies Kamé. Here she is." She waved a hand into the storm and darkness. "Deign to give passage to the chamber where lies O'Tama. O'Iwa and Kamé would burn incense to the darling's memory, to the little Jewel." With a roar Kondō seized the breast of her robe—"Vile old trot, off with you!" He gave her a violent push which sent her on her buttocks. The woman remained seated in the mud, laughing noisily. She held out two skinny arms to him. With a slam he shut the door.

He knelt by the priest's body, truly grieved—"Ah!O'Iwa is abroad.How has this mad woman knowledge of this deed?What was the offence of Myōzen thus to deserve the hatred of Tamiya O'Iwa?"O'Kamé had seen the priest enter, had stood in the wet listening to the wild talk of Kondō, had seen the bloody sword in his hand.Her mad brain had put riot and death together.The talk as to O'Tama she had overheard from her closet.Kondō thought of neither explanation.He was at odds with Akiyama, and had sent no message to his house.As he speculated and thought how best to compound matters with the temple, now grieved at the rash blow fallen on a friend, now aghast at the certain and heavy indemnification which would be exacted by the enraged clerics, an uproar arose outside.There were wild cries and a scream of pain.Then came a loud triumphant shout—"Heads out!Heads out!O'Iwa is slain!This Akiyama has killed the O'Baké.The incubus of the ward is lifted.Help!"Kondō sprang up and out of the house.Were the words true?Had another succeeded where he had failed?His lantern, the lanterns of many others, threw light on the place where Akiyama Chōzaémon bravely stood ward over the prostrate body of the apparition. Returning late from Shitamachi he had entered the ward with shrinking terror. As he skulked along, with eyes on every dark corner, the figure of a woman was seen close by the eaves of the house of Kondō Rokurōbei. As he approached she came forward laughing wildly the while. The light of his lantern fell on the ghastly white face, the disordered hair. In a spasm of fright he dropped the lantern and delivered his blow in drawing the sword. The cut was almost identical with the one delivered to Myōzen the priest. The men there gathered looked into each other's faces, then at the body of O'Kamé lying in their midst. The crowd parted, and Tamiya Yoémon appeared. Kondō Rokurōbei and Akiyama Chōzaémon stood by with bloody swords, their own skins without a scratch. They were self-accused.

The upshot of the affair was ruin for all.Matters in Yotsuya were coming to the official ears.Yoémon was forced to make charges against Akiyama; the more willingly as therein lay a chance to recoup his own losses through the wife he intended to divorce on the morrow.Kondō easily cleared his skirts of this offence, but was involved with the irate temple priests.All were entangled in the heavy costs of the law of those days.Of these three men something is to be said later.

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CHAPTER XX

KIBEI DONO

Kibei was in great straits, financial and domestic. The death of Kwaiba had brought him anything but freedom. In Nippon the headship of a House is much more than the simple heirship of our western law. Relieved of his obligation in office the old man's hands were wide open to shower benefice or caprice on the most worthless. Endorsement for cash and goods to Natsumé, Imaizumi, and Kamimura; donations to the temples of Teramachi and the Yotsuyazaka; favours in every direction except that of Akiyama Chōzaémon, in the pursuit of whom Kwaiba found much amusement; all these items added to the very free living in his household had pledged deeply the ample revenue of two hundred and thirty tawara, and would have upheld the samurai trait of not knowing the value of money—if Kwaiba had been of that kind. Between Kwaiba and Kibei, the wild debauchery of the last year had brought the House to the verge of ruin. Kibei was aghast. Long since he had become deeply involved with the Kashiku Tamagiku of the Yamadaya in Edomachi Itchōme of the Yoshiwara. The ugly fellow was madly in love with the beauty. On her he had poured out the treasures of the Itō House during the six months which preceded the illness of Kwaiba. During his prolonged absence from her the letters of the Kashiku had inundated the writing table of Kibei. Had he deserted her? Was all affection gone? Where now were the promises of ransom, the blood-sealed vow to become husband and wife, to assume the relation which endures for two worlds? Kibei sullenly read these lines; cursing Kwaiba and cursing himself. Ransom! With strict living for the next five years he might set matters straight and free the Tayu; and any day she might be bought by some rich country samurai or gōshi (gentleman farmer), or be carried off to ornament the bessō of some hatamotoKibei wiped the bitter saliva from his lips.[32]

The domestic difficulties were accompaniment to these more important matters. In the large mansion Kibei was now alone. The tenth day had witnessed the flight of the last of the servants. The women had departed with the funeral, through fear, sacrificing wages and even such clothing as could not surreptitiously be removed. What woman—or man—could remain in a house which was the nightly scene of such fearful sounds of combat. Shrieks, wails, groans, came from the quarters once occupied by the dead Kwaiba. As to this there was no difference of opinion. The more venturesome had been favoured with actual sight of the scenes enacted. They had seen the old man as he was in death, pursued from room to room by two frightful hags, as gaunt, blear, sightless as himself. Dreadful were the cries of the dead man as the harpies fastened upon him, descending from above like two huge bats. These scenes took place usually at the eighth hour (1 a.m.), not to cease until dawn.As for the men servants, they took their leave in the days following, asking formal dismissal (itoma) with recommendation to another House.They scented the approaching ruin of their present employer.

One day Kakusuké presented himself. Kibei looked up. He understood at once that the man had come in his turn to take leave. Kakusuké alone had remained with him. He was chūgen, stable boy, cook, maid; and did the work of all four without complaint.The change in his master was too marked.Kibei, in his turn, had become irritable, timorous as a girl, subject to outbreaks of almost insane rage.To Kakusuké the young man seemed to have lost all nerve.Kakusuké wanted to serve a man.As long as the Wakadono gave promise of redemption, of rising above his difficulties and emerging into a splendid career in which Kakusuké could take pride, the chūgen was ready to take the bitter with the sweet. To be maid servant and keeper of a man half mad had no attraction for this blunt-nerved fellow. He spoke plainly—"The Wakadono should deign to throw up the whole connection. Under the present conditions the ruin of the House is unavoidable. Condescend to return to the original House in Honjō Yokogawa. This course will be best. At least the Wakadono secures his own salvation. This is the advice of Kakusuké, grown old in experience of service in a samurai household. In naught else is there hope. As to himself, would the Wakadono condescend to grant dismissal." Long had been the intimacy between Itō Kwaiba and Inagaki Shōgen. Kakusuké, the messenger between the two Houses, had watched this Fukutarō (Kibei) grow to manhood, had noted his prowess. It was with delight he had carried the documents which were to bring this new and vigorous blood into the home of his decadent master. This was the result. "A pest on these witches—and their craft!"

Kibei heard him out with growing anger. As the man's words gathered vigour and plain spokenness his hand wandered to his sword. He had a mind to cut him down then and there for his freedom of speech. More than half induced to recognize the truth of the indictment his better feeling halted him. With harsh and sardonic tone he gave unbelieving thanks for the implied reproof of the chūgen. The service of Kakusuké had been faithful beyond measure. It should have its proper reward. If others had chosen to depart as do those who run away, they had shown ignorance of this Kibei. From a drawer of the desk he took out a letter already prepared, a roll containing wages. He pushed the zen toward Kakusuké. This readiness, as if foreseen, hit the man hard. Respectfully he pressed the letter to his forehead, bowing with extended hands on the tatami; the money he did not touch.Finally he raised a timid questioning glance to his one-time master.Said Kibei jeeringly—"Kakusuké has given his advice.Is it part of his long experience that a servant should question the wages placed under his nose? Off with you! This Kibei would be alone; most willingly so." At the peremptory threatening gesture Kakusuké no longer hesitated. He had no inclination to be a victim of one of the mad outbreaks of the young man. Taking the roll humbly he backed out of the room. His steps were heard a few minutes later passing the entrance. Then the outer gate shut to with a clang.

For a long watch Kibei sat in meditation. He was as one who sleeps. Then he rose with decision. "'Tis the last chance. Kakusuké is right. The matter is to be brought to an end." Dressing for the street he left the house. He opened the big gate; then went to the stable, and saddled and bridled his horse. He led it outside, closed the gate, and mounting he rode forth, to go to Honjō Yokogawa and the yashiki of his father, Inagaki Shōgen. Coming unaccompanied he was received with surprise and some discomfiture, as he was quick to note. He was very quick to note things in these days. Prostrating himself before his mother—"Kibei presents himself. Honoured mother, deign to pardon the intrusion. Fukutarō would solicit her pity and influence." The lady looked at him with amazement. "Fukutarō! What then of Kibei? Is some jest deigned at the mother's expense? It is in very bad taste.... But the face of Kibei implies no jest. Pray put the matter plainly. Why does her son come in petition to the mother?" Began Kibei—"The matter is most serious...." He went into the full details; from the time of his entrance into the Itō House, through the course of dissipation and illness of Kwaiba, down to the present ruined state of affairs. "All this is due to the curse of O'Iwa San, to this plot in which Kibei foolishly engaged." Of this he now fully felt the force. The events of the past weeks had wrecked him in mind and body. One disaster after another, in house and ward, had been visited on Kibei. The bitterness and dislike of the people toward Kwaiba was visited on his representative, who was held responsible. In his great mansion he lived alone. No servant would enter it to attend to his wants. Was he to cook and be valet for himself—and pose as the Kumi-gashira, the great chief of the ward! The position was an impossible one. Deign to use a mother's influence with Inagaki Dono. "Condescend to secure permission for the return of this Kibei to his original House, for the cancellation of the adoption."

The wife of Shōgen sat frightened; at the tale, and at this radical way of finding an exit from the situation. The mother's heart was full of pity for the distracted son, whose haggard looks showed the strain of the past weeks. Besides she was a woman, and as such fully believed in and feared the curse of this dead O'Iwa, one who had died without funeral rites or prayer. "Fortunately the honoured father now is on the night watch at the castle. He is at home, drinking his wine. His humour is excellent. Wait but a moment." Leaving Kibei she went to the room of Shōgen's light indulgence. The severe and conscientious nobleman was bending under the genial influence of the saké"Kibei?He comes in good season.The heir of Kwaiba Inkyō has not favoured his real father of late.Ah!The boy was well placed.Kwaiba soon made way for him; and none too willingly, one can believe."He chuckled.Then noting his wife's troubled looks."But there is something to tell."—"So indeed; none too pleasant."She went into the story Kibei had told her."His fear of O'Iwa San is deadly.The House is ruined, with no profit in the connection.Deign to permit the cancellation of the adoption, his return to the House of his true parent."She stopped before the stern astonished look of the husband.Said he harshly—"Let him come up.Shōgen answers Kibei Dono in person....Heigh!Up here with you!For Itō Dono there is wine...."Kibei entered joyfully at his father's call.Success was in his hands.Once more he was to marshal his father's retainers and accompany him to the castle; once more be the habitué of the fencing rooms. "Honoured father, fear enters: for long this Kibei has not ventured into your presence."—"And need not for long again," thundered the old man. "What stuff is this for the ears of Shōgen? Kibei would sever his connection with the Itō House. Kibei is afraid of a ghost! He fears a girl! A samurai wearing two swords shrinks from an encounter with a woman! Has Shōgen no obligation toward his old friend Kwaiba? In more serious matters and in life Shōgen would share Kwaiba's lot. Back with you to the house in Yotsuya! If this matter become known, both Kibei and Shōgen will be the laughing stocks of Edo. At least keep such fears to yourself. Off with you! Shōgen had wine for Itō Dono. For the fellow who would call himself—Fukutarō, he has none." With a kick he sent rolling the zen (table) with its burden of bottles and heating apparatus. In a rage he left the room.

Kibei's face was white as he raised it from the tatami. "Father has no experience of ghosts; he speaks at random and in anger. Terrible is the actuality." Said the mother, slowly and painfully—"He is the father; he is to be obeyed." Kibei was sitting upright. He nodded grave assent. Then suddenly he prostrated himself ceremoniously before the shōji through which Shōgen had disappeared. He repeated the salutation before his mother. Then he rose—"Itō Kibei takes leave. May good health and fortune visit those of this House." At his exit the mother rejoiced. Severe had been the father's words, but they had brought the boy to reason. She wept and trembled at the reproof. Men had best knowledge of such affairs. She would pray at Reiganji, and have memorial service held for the peace of this O'Iwa in the next world. Then the curse would not rest upon her son.

On his appearance at the house entrance an ashigaru (foot soldier) led up the horse. Kibei waved him away—"For the present keep the animal in charge. With matters to attend to close at hand Kibei will use other conveyance." The man took the animal away. Leaving the gate of the yashiki Kibei walked the short distance to the Hōonji bridge. Here was a kago (litter) stand. "To Yamadaya in Yoshiwara." As the kago men went off at a trot—"Kibei has played and lost. How does the account yonder stand? Seventy ryō owed at the Matsuminatoya. For the rest, this Kibei can claim a night's attendance from the kashiku. If affection would not grant it, the huge sums bestowed in the past have a claim upon her. Then to end matters and die like a samurai. To-morrow Kibei cuts belly." It was the debt which sent him direct to the Yamadaya, and not first to the tea house. Sitting over the wine all effort of the Kashiku to enliven him failed. Noting her discomfiture he smiled gloomily. Then in explanation—"The thoughts of Kibei go astray. The House is ruined. Ransom is impossible. This is the last meeting. To-morrow Kibei cuts belly, and dies like a samurai."At first the girl thought he was joking.Then noting the wild look of despair in his eyes, she was frightened.Partly in disbelief; partly seeking to postpone this desperate resolve, to turn his thoughts and gain time for reflection; partly in that sentimental mood which at times affects this class of women—"Is Kibei truly ruined?Lamentable the fate of Tamagiku.Why not join him in death?But the idea is too new.Deign to postpone the execution for a space.To-night shall be a night of pleasure with the Kashiku Tamagiku.With the morrow's darkness she dies with Kibei.Hand in hand they will wander the paths of Amida's paradise."She came close to him in service of the wine; put her arms about him, and drew him to her bosom; in every way cajoled and sought to comfort him, and corrupt his purpose.Consent was easy.The night was passed in love and wine.In the morning he left her.

Kibei was making his final preparations; writing directions which would benefit as far as possible the House in Honjō at the expense of that in Yotsuya. In the Yoshiwara a very different scene was taking place. With his departure the Kashiku sprang up. Hastily throwing a robe around her person she sought the room of the yarité—the bawd of the house."The Kashiku!At this hour—what has happened?" —"Something of importance. This night Tama dies with Kibei Dono. The compact is closed, hard and firm." The astonished bawd had been rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The last words brought her full awake—"Is the Kashiku drunk with wine? Is she mad? Truly it would seem so. And the bail? What is to become of the unfortunate? True it is Toémon of Honjō; and he has trouble enough already. He will never leave his prison." Tamagiku made a gesture of impatience—"This Tama has acted but to gain time. Can she have affection for such an ugly fellow? Was she to be the victim of some crazy outburst? Perhaps the day will bring better counsel; but the night's conversation does not augur it. His plans are most complete. The master must be seen. Deign to mediate; prevent the admittance of Kibei Dono as guest." O'Kayo the bawd nodded intelligence and assent. At once she sought the master of the house. "A dangerous guest," was his comment. "Send to the Matsuminatoya. They must be warned. We can look after ourselves." As an attendant of the tea house presented himself—"And the master, Teisuké San!" —"Is absent; this Tōsuké represents him. He has gone to Edo. Perhaps the house will deign to look at a new inmate. A true Tayu! The daughter of Akiyama San of Yotsuya sacrifices her caste. But sixteen years, she is a jewel. Less than a hundred ryō will buy her. He is in great difficulties." Tōsuké spoke with enthusiasm. The master of the Yamadaya answered promptly and with emphasis—"Accepted: let her be on hand in the course of the day. But Tōsuké, there is another matter. Kibei Dono no longer can be accepted as a guest." He went into details. Tōsuké drew a long breath. "A dangerous fellow! The Danna Sama never liked his presence. But he owes the house much money; seventy ryō."—"That is your affair," coldly replied the master of the Yamadaya."This house answers not for the accounts of the tea-house.Previous notice has been given.Kibei Dono cannot be received as guest."—"That is not to be denied.He is most undesirable.But the seventy ryō! And the week's settlement to make with this house?" The Yamadaya had an idea—"It rarely passes a hundred ryō.... Five years is accepted? Then take thirty ryō and deliver this girl to the Yamadaya.... A true Tayu? If so the debt of Kibei finds payment." Tōsuké agreed with joy.

At night the kago man set Kibei down before the Matsuminatoya. Teisuké, the teishū (host), regarded his arrival with mixed feelings. His coming meant something. Giving up his two swords, and once seated, Kibei's first act was to give thanks for past services. Calling for his account he produced the seventy ryō in its settlement. Prompt and profound were the humble thanks of the house for this unexpected liquidation. Kibei had secured the money by the transfer of obligations of Akiyama Chōzaémon to the usurer Suzuki Sanjurō. Three hundred and fifty ryō immediately due against seventy ryō in cash satisfied even this shark. Teisuké was impressed. How deny such a guest? He would get rid of him, and profit both ways. Yamadaya now would promptly pay the additional seventy ryō due on the girl with whom they were so delighted. He had paid fifty ryō for her. At Kibei's call his order was prompt. "Tōsuké, accompany Kibei Dono to the Yamadaya." Kibei's calm and collected manner reassured him. This man did not contemplate suicide.

With the appearance of Tōsuké and Kibei at the Yamadaya there was a flutter. The Bantō Matsuzo respectfully came forward. As Kibei came up to the rōka and shook off his geta he interposed. "Deign to wait, Kibei Dono. Matters have changed since morning. The Kashiku is very ill. She can see no one. Condescend to come another time. For one ill in body pleasure is no pastime. Pray consider; grant excuse for this one occasion." Kibei was surprised. He had left her perfectly well in the morning. Something in the bantō's face, in the massed position of the men standing by, apprised him of the truth. He was enraged at the lie and the insult. "Ill? That is very strange, when so well at morning. But it is immaterial. Kibei goes to the room."—"Impossible," was the firm reply of the bantō. "The Kashiku lies isolated from all. It is the order of the physician. Even those in the rooms around her have been ordered out. Pray forbear." But Kibei was obstinate—"Then a glass of wine at her bedside; Kibei has matters to impart." The bantō stuck to his post—"Wine! Amid the smell of drugs, the unseemly vessels of the sick room! Such could not be permitted." Kibei stretched out an arm. The bantō went flying a dozen feet. Kibei made a leap toward the stairway. But the bawd O'Kayo interposed her vinegary presence. She was brave; having the support of great numbers, of the whole household. "What rudeness! How inconsiderate your way of acting! You behave in very bad taste; with the roughness of an ashigaru (foot soldier). The Yamadaya does not entertain such miserable scamps. The Tayu is ill. This Kayo says it. Get you hence—to some coolie house. Return the day before yesterday."[33] Kibei gave a yell—"Yai! You old bitch! The whole affair is plain to Kibei. Out of money, his presence is no longer desired. Ah! Kibei will have vengeance." Without arms, before the sullen determination of these plebeians, he felt his helplessness. An unseemly brawl, in which he would be worsted, must not be entered on. He must leave. In a towering rage he strode back to the tea-house. Tōsuké tried to keep pace with him.

Said Teisuké in feigned astonishment—"Kibei Dono! What has happened?" Kibei did but stutter and fume. The teishū turned to Tōsuké. This latter made answer for his charge—"At the Yamadaya they were very rude. Admittance was refused to Kibei Dono. The bawd O'Kayo told him to come back day before yesterday!" —"Very rude indeed! Were such things said? It is unpardonable. An explanation must be had with the house. Danna Sama, for to-night deign to leave this matter to Teisuké. Ample satisfaction shall be had for the outrage." Teisuké threw up his hands as with uncontrollable anger. Kibei paid no attention, but demanded his swords. Outwardly he had regained his self-control. The maid O'Moto looked with diffidence at her mistress. The woman was accustomed to such scenes. At her sign the girl brought the weapons, carefully wrapped up. She placed them before Kibei. Unrolling the cover he put them on. With scanty salutation he strode off. Teisuké watched him—"It would be wise for the Yamadaya to close early to-night, to take in their lanterns; nay, even to board up the front and take refuge in the store-house." Tōsuké was in no hurry to face Matsuzo, the bantō of Yamadaya. Continued the easy old fellow—"Well, 'tis their affair. They are as good judges as Teisuké; and they could have been more civil in refusal. At all events the house has seventy ryō, and Kibei Dono is sober. He will cut belly before dawn; and perhaps nothing will happen hereabouts." The old pimp went off to his inner room; to sit down before his wine about the same time that Kibei did the same in a cook shop opposite the great gate of Yoshiwara. Here he idled, barely touched his drink, and passed the time in bantering the maid servant. He was in a riotous humour. He would take her to wife—and sell her the next morning. "As they do yonder." But O'Kiyo was not of that kind. "There is a lover?" —"Of course!" In admitting it she blushed, somewhat offended at hint of suspicion that such was lacking. Jibed Kibei—"He will do the same. Better to be the wife of a samurai; even for an hour."In the end he frightened the girl a good deal, so boisterous was he.She had gone out to buy him a deep hat.With relief she saw him put it on and set forth into the darkness and the rain.

The eighth hour (1 a.m.) was nearly ready to strike. The pleasure quarter was silent. Passersby were few. The occasional shuffling sound of zōri (sandals) could be heard behind the closed amado. Kibei smiled cynically as he recognized this mark of revolting passage from one room to another. In doubt he stood before the gate of the Yamadaya. How break in and kill them all? If Kibei had his way the Kashiku would keep her word. Just then a noise of voices was heard within, the falling of the bar. Several belated guests came forth. They were in the charge of O'Moto, the maid of the Matsuminatoya. Affectionate were the leave-takings with the quondam wives. "Condescend an early visit. This Haya lives but in the thought of Mosuké." —"Bunzaémon San, be faithful to this Hana. In his absence she is always ill. She receives no one." At this there was a roar of laughter from the others of the company. Bunzaémon answered with reproaches. Kibei followed behind. This fellow was somewhat lamed. He lagged behind. Kibei pulled his sleeve. Bunzaémon, the cit, turned in surprise and fear at sight of the samurai in his deep hat. Said Kibei—"Don't be afraid. Bunzaémon San has forgotten pipe, or purse, or something. He must go back to the Yamadaya." At the fellow's groping in his garments and failure to understand he grew impatient. "A friend lies at the Yamadaya. It is late, and they will not open at an unknown voice. Entrance somehow must be had. Deign to lend your aid." At last the fellow comprehended—"O'Moto San! A moment: my pipe...." —"Oya! The Danna Sama has forgotten his pipe?" The girl went back the short distance to the gate. She knocked and called. With sleepy tones the voice of Matsuzo the bantō was heard. The bar fell. The girl turned to look down the street toward her guests. She looked right into the face of Kibei. Dropping her lantern, with a smothered scream she fled.

Matsu, the bantō, looked with horror at the man before him.As Kibei threw off his hat he turned to flee.Tripping, he fell.Kibei drew him back by the leg.A blow cut him through the shoulder.As he rose staggering a second vicious side swing sent the severed head to the ground.The gate-man took the chance.Fleeing to the recesses of the kitchen, he swarmed up a post and hid himself among the rafters of the roof, amid the darkness of their shadows. Kibei turned back and carefully barred the gate. With the key at the girdle of Matsuzo he locked the bar chain. All was now ready for his visitation and search.

On the floor above they had a drunken guest in hand, trying to get him to depart. A bantō and several women formed the committee of expulsion. "Ah! Money gone, one's welcome is quickly worn out in this hell. But Jusuké does not budge. He fears not the whole pack of foxes.... Thanks: deep the obligation of this Jusuké, extending to the next life." A woman had picked up and restored his purse. "The bill is paid? An early start Tōkaidō way? Ah, true! Jusuké had forgotten." He was now all compliments and thanks. Then in a rage—"Oh! The huzzy! What is Jusuké's purse worth with nothing in it? Who has robbed the purse of Jusuké?" He was madly fumbling his tobacco pouch. A woman put his hand on the missing object in the folds of his girdle. He was mollified. As they moved to the head of the stairs—"Take care! Jusuké San, don't fall! Bantō San, deign to aid the guest." Refusing all help the man lurched half way down the flight. Then he stopped, staring and looking before him. At the foot stood Kibei, bloody sword in hand. "Down with this Jusuké? But Jusuké cannot down. A fool blocks the way.... Fool, you block the way of Jusuké." —"Out of the road, drunkard!" The words of Kibei came between his teeth, half growl, half snarl. The man obstinately held his own. When Kibei would push past him—"Beast!" He struck the samuraiKibei whirled the sword.The head rolled to the bottom of the steps.The blood bathed Kibei from head to foot.

His appearance was horrible. The women fled in all directions. The bantō covered their retreat. "Kibei Dono! Pray be reasonable. Control yourself!" Kibei made a step toward the women's rooms. The bantō was dreadfully frightened, yet bravely he interposed to save them. He shouted for aid; below and to the neighbours. Kibei reached him. A blow and he fell severed. Kibei gave a howl of joy. O'Kayo the bawd came out to ascertain the cause of the brawl. She turned livid with fear on recognizing Kibei. They were standing together in the sort of entresol or room at the head of the stairway. Only a large brazier separated Kibei from his vengeance. Its massiveness of three or four feet breadth baffled him. The woman was fleeing for life. As he strove to get within striking distance fear gave her wings. From one side to another she leaped and dodged. Kibei was hampered. He had to cut her off from stair and rōka. As he hesitated she discharged the iron kettle at his head. One implement followed another. In hurling the iron tripod ashes entered her eyes. At once Kibei leaped to close quarters. The first sword blow she dodged. As Kibei recovered she sprang by him and over the hibachi, seeking the safety of the stairs now open to her.Her night-dress caught on the handle of the brazier and brought her to the ground.Next moment she was severed from shoulder to midriff.

Methodically Kibei began his examination of the rooms. To most of the inmates this uproar was a mere quarrel in the house, the cause of which they neither knew nor cared to know. The first search was at the room of the Kashiku, close to that of O'Kayo the bawd. Her reception room was dark. Here the Kashiku's bed usually was prepared. The inner room, her dressing room, showed the dim light of an andon. Noting her absence from the usual place a hasty stride brought him to the shōjiAs he violently shoved them apart a man rose from the bed in the room.A mere glance showed that this was no lover.As Kibei with drawn sword stood over him, he squatted on his hams, crouching and begging for life.To Kibei's astonishment he called him by name—"Deign, honoured Sir, to spare this Chōbei.Be assured the Kashiku is not in this place.She lies to-night with the Danna of the house.Deign to seek her in his company."He pointed vaguely as he spoke, to give direction.Kibei laughed ferociously.From this source these directions were atrocious.He lowered the weapon—"Chōbei!At this place and time!Well met, good Sir. Kibei is doubly grateful for what he has learned. Chōbei and Kibei are fellows in fortune. Willingly Kibei leaves him to O'Iwa San and her mercies." His attentive gaze never wandered from the face of the one-time pimp. With a gesture of horror he rushed from the room. In fright Chōbei rolled his head up in the coverlet, to keep out the vision evoked.

He continued his search—"Is it my little black fellow?" Such the greeting of one woman aroused from sleep. Trembling she rose at sight of Kibei. Harshly told to lie down, she gladly obeyed. Her quivering limbs already were nearly yielding as he spoke. In but one place did he encounter opposition. Pushing open the shōji of the merest closet of a room he came upon a girl whose face somehow was familiar. She was a mere slip of a creature to be called a woman. The undeveloped hips, the yet immature bosom, aroused his astonishment at finding her in such a place as inmate; that is, until the pure oval and beauty of the face caught his glance. As he entered she sprang up in alarm. Just roused from sleep she hardly knew where she was—"Father! Father! A man! A man is in the room! Help!" Kibei pushed her back on the bed. With his bloody sword he rolled over the bed-clothes. Then he made a move to get at the closet behind. Perhaps mistaking his action the girl sprang upon him. Kibei was startled at her mad energy. When he thrust her down she seized his hand in her teeth, sinking them deep into it. Pain and impatience—after all he was pressed for time—overcame him. Unable otherwise to shake her off he thrust the point of the sword into her throat and gave a vigorous downward push. Coughing up great clouts of blood, the girl sank back, dying on the futonAs he left the room remembrance came to Kibei's mind.He had seen her in Yotsuya.More than once O'Tsuru had served him tea in the house of her father, Chōzaémon.How came she in this vile den?He took a step back to aid her if he could.She was stone dead.

The Tayu Nishikiyama[34] now knew the cause of the disturbance. To the frightened page (kamuro) who came running to her—"Be quiet child. This is no time to lose self-control. Aid me in preparation." She dressed herself with the greatest care; "all in white, as befitted a lady in attendance on a nobleman." Then she took down her koto and struck the opening bars of an old and famous song—the "Jinmujō" (Inexhaustible Happiness)—said to have been sung by the famous Shizuka Gōzen when she danced the Hōraku, or sacred dance, before the Shōgun Yoritomo at Kamakura Hachimangū. As Kibei turned into the corridor the voice of the Oiran caught his ear as she sang in accompaniment to the instrument. She was bending over the koto as the shōji were flung apart. Kibei, his hair hanging in disorder and framing a face ghastly white in contrast to the red streaks splashed over it and his garments, stood transfixed at the entrance. The Tayu looked up. With calm pose and courteous salute—"Kibei Dono, what manner of acting is this! Is not Kibei Dono the bushi?Truly madness has seized you, honoured Sir.This is Nishikiyama....Deign to be seated.'Tis Nishikiyama who serves Kibei Dono.What has been done cannot be undone.The last cup of wine in life is to be drained.Deign to accept it from these humble hands."

Kibei continued gazing on her. The unhappy man, his mind was opened to a flood of light. The hurricane of passion was passing. Slowly he advanced into the room. "Truly the Go Tayu is right. Kibei has gone mad; mad indeed!" He sank down on the cushion before her. At a sign the page placed the stand containing the bottle of cold saké before the lady. Skilfully the slender hands held it, gracefully poured it for the man doomed to death, taking this final cup served by her. Kibei raised it, drained it to the last drop. "The Kashiku: she is on this lower floor. Where lies she?" Nashikiyama noted the wild light returning to his eyes. She bowed her head before him—"The life of Nishikiyama is at the command of Kibei Dono. Her lips are sealed. Honoured Sir, how answer Kibei Dono's question?" For the moment he looked down. Then he rose—"Whose daughter can the Oiran be! Truly no lady in the land could show a higher courage, a finer courtesy. The final salute of this Kibei in life is to the Go Tayu." In grave ceremony it was performed. As he left the room the woman buried her face in her hands, weeping bitterly. In wonder and gratitude the frightened page extended her hands, her face hidden in the white robes of the Go Tayu.

Kibei trod this lower corridor with sombre tread. He would cut belly at the garden pond. With some surprise he noted an amado open at the end of the rōkaVoices were heard.Standing at the opening he saw lanterns.Some frenzied women had raised a ladder to the garden wall.They would thus escape, but the knife-like bamboo stakes prevented.Said a voice outside, and close to him—"The key to the gate: here it is."The Kashiku at a run passed by him.Kibei gave a shout.The frightened woman turned, recognized him, then sped on.In a few steps he was on her.The raised sword descended as she fell on her knees before him, in attempt to swerve its course.Through wrist and collar-bone, from neck to navel, the keen blade passed.Kibei threw the weapon aside.He leaned over her, his dagger drawn.Then he rose, holding by its tresses the head.For a moment he gazed on it.Slowly he walked to the pond in the centre of the garden.Carefully he washed the bloody trophy and placed it on the curbing.Confronting it he made reverential salutation."Kibei keeps his promise to the Kashiku.With Tamagiku he treads the gloomy paths of Shideyama.Honoured lady—a moment and Kibei follows."Seated before the head reposing on the curb he opened his clothes.Thrusting the bloody dagger deep into his left side he slowly drew it across the belly; then made the upward cut.The body fell forward.Kibei indeed had kept his word.

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