Magome Yaemon at once sought out the machibugyo[u]'s office. His lordship heard the report. "Different disorders require different treatment. Of two of these men this Gemba knows something. The other man is hard to place, and evidently not so easy to deal with." Two do[u]shin and yakunin were sent at once to the addresses indicated. To capture Nakagawa Miemon and Imai Kahei was an easy task. The do[u]shin and yakunin sent to the house of Sakurai formed a band of twenty men. The house surrounded, without ceremony the officer and an aid entered. "On the lord's mission: Sakurai San is wanted at the office of Matsuda Dono. If resistance be made it will be necessary to use the rope. Pray accompany me." Sakurai Kichiro[u] divined the object of the arrest. "The affair at the Kirido[u]shi has been scented out. The manner of that rascally drug seller was strange to-day." The officer had planted himself right before the sword rack. Sakurai could neither kill anybody, nor cut belly. He turned to his wife. "There is a matter on hand to be explained. Absence will probably be prolonged. Already the day is far advanced.... Ah! Is it Kichitaro[u]?" A boy of seven years had rushed into the room. "Pretty fellow!... Honoured Sir, be patient. The separation is no short one. No resistance is made. We go the same road.... Taro[u]; rude fellow! Salute the gentleman." The boy obeyed, with grave ceremony and a hostility which divined an unpleasant mission. "Your father leaves you. It is now the time to obey the mother in all she says. Remember well, or the end will be a bad one." Wife and child clung to him, frightened and now weeping. It was an arrest; their mainstay was being taken from them. In the last caresses he had time to bend down and whisper to O'Ren—"In the toilet box is a scroll sealed up. All is there explained. Read and destroy it. In later days at discretion let our son know." Roughly he pushed woman and boy aside. With rapid stride he reached the entrance. The yakunin confronted him. He laughed and waved a hand. "There is no resistance. We go the same road." The do[u]shin permitted the laxity of discipline. He had his orders.

Meanwhile the examination of the other two men was in progress at the office of the machibugyo[u]. As the biggest fool of the two, Nakagawa Miemon was the first summoned to the presence of Matsuda Dono. Said the Judge[14]—"Nakagawa Uji, there is a slight inquiry to make. How were those scars on the face come by? These are marks of wounds not long since received. Consider well and remember." The tone of menace staggered Miemon. He had anticipated some rebuke for slight infraction of the peace, not unusual with these men. "Naruhodo! Has the Shiba Kirido[u]shi matter cropped up?" He hesitated—"The story is a long one, and a foolish one. To weary the honoured ears...." Matsuda Gemba caught him up with impatient gesture. "Answer the question, and truly. Nakagawa Miemon is noted neither for judgment nor sobriety." The man caught up the last phrase as a cue. Eagerly he spoke, the doors of the jail opening wide for exit—"So it is indeed. Wine never benefited man; much less a samurai. Hence, with Kahei and Sakurai Uji, it was decided to forswear wine forever. It was determined to make a pilgrimage to Kompira San. There the vow of abstinence was to be taken; on its holy ground. All went well. We met at Nihonbashi. Alas! At the Kyo[u]bashi the perfume of a grog shop reached our noses. The vow had not yet been taken. The ground was not holy. Just one last drink before setting out. But the Buddha was unfavourable. Once begun, the drinking was adjourned to a cook shop. There the bout continued all day. Wine lent us the wings of tengu. We travelled the road to Kompira San in a dream. In the progress Kahei and this Miemon quarrelled. Swords were drawn, and we cut each other. These wounds on head and face were the portion of this Miemon. Kahei had his hand nearly severed. Sakurai San, who was asleep, aroused by the noise, sprang up to part us. He is a man to be feared; but in my rage I sank my teeth in his hand. The bite of man or beast is poison. His wound was worse than that of either of us."

Gemba Dono was in conversation with his chamberlain. He let Miemon talk away. He was not one to say too little. As barely having listened he asked—"When was this fight? The day of the vow and journey to Kompira? Truly the result has been the vengeance of offended deity."—"The twelfth month tenth day," naturally replied Miemon. Gemba forced him to repeat the answer. Several times he put the query in different forms. Miemon, fool that he was, stuck to the date. Then said the magistrate—"Miemon, you are a liar. Moreover, you are a murderer. On the 13th day, on going up to the castle, this Gemba had converse with your lord. At that time Nakagawa Miemon was summoned to carry out a mission. As a man of whom report had been made you were noted well. At that time you had no wound.... Tie him up, and take him away." The yakunin fell on him from all sides. In a trice he was trussed up and removed.

Then appeared Imai Kahei. Kahei was cunning, but also a coward. To the questions of the machibugyo[u] he procrastinated in his answers, confused them all he could. What had Miemon said? "He spoke of the eloquence of Imai San; of Kahei Uji as the clever man, the one to tell the tale properly. Now let us have the true statement of the case." Such was Gemba's reply. It was flattering. Unable to help himself Kahei set sail on his sea of lies. "We all like wine...."—"Ah! After all you are agreed." Gemba smiled pleasantly. Kahei took courage—"But wine costs money. Together we went to Kuraya Jibei, a money-lender living at Kuramae no Saka, as is well known." Gemba nodded assent. "Of him two ryo[u] were borrowed, on agreement to repay ten ryo[u] as interest within a month. The nearest grog shop was sought, and it was the hour of the rat (11 P.M.) before the return was started. At the Teobashi a band of drunkards was encountered. Without cause these men forced a quarrel on us. Thus was the hand of Kahei nearly severed. This is the truth."—"And what was the date of this money bond?" Imai hesitated. He had caught a glimpse of the drug seller To[u]kichi on being brought into the place. Without doubt the Kirido[u]shi affair was in question. He must antedate his wound. "Kahei does not remember with certainty. Perhaps it was the seventeenth day; before the Kwannon festival of the eighteenth day." He mumbled, and was frightened. Said Gemba sharply—"Speak distinctly; the seventeenth day?"—"Hei! Hei! Some time in the last decade of the month; the nineteenth or twentieth day—not later; not later." Matsuda Gemba almost leaped at him. "Oh, you liar! On the last day of the year you came, in person, to this Gemba to anticipate the New Year's gift (sebo). At that time you had no wound. Yet the drug seller sees you next day with maimed hand. It was not at Teobashi, but at Shiba Kirido[u]shi, that the wound was received.... Tie him up, and away with him." The yakunin came forward. Imai made a spasmodic attempt to rise. They threw him down, and in a moment he was keeping company with Nakagawa Miemon.

Gemba Dono braced himself for the more serious task. So did his yakunin. A glance showed the magistrate that he had mistaken his man. Sakurai Kichiro[u] came forward with calm and dignity. Making his ceremonial salutation to the judge he came at once to the point. "What lies Miemon and Kahei have told, this Kichiro[u] knows not. The fact is that we three plotted together to rob the fatly supplied purses of the banto[u] making their rounds in settlement of accounts at the close of the year. Hence the banto[u] of the Shimaya, Zensuke, lost his money belt, and a man of the same stamp, one Jugoro[u], was killed. All three of us are guilty of the murder...." As he would proceed Gemba held up his hand. "Bring in the other two men. Continue, Kichiro[u]." Said Sakurai—"Miemon was badly cut about the head and face. Kahei nearly lost his hand. This Kichiro[u] would have killed the clerk, but the procession of Geishu[u] Sama came in sight, and recognition was feared. Of the three hundred and twenty-five ryo[u] secured...." The eyes of Nakagawa and Imai stood out. Aghast they had followed the confession of Sakurai Kichiro[u], with full intention to deny its truth. Now they were in a fury. "What! Three hundred and twenty-five ryo[u]! And we had but ten ryo[u] apiece. You jest, Sakurai Uji.... Oh! The low fellow! The villain! A very beast! A swine!"

Gemba Dono could ask for nothing more. With smiling face and courtesy he turned to Sakurai Kichiro[u]. "Why did Kichiro[u] take the three hundred ryo[u], giving to these fellows such a paltry sum?" Answered Kichiro[u]—"As deserving no more. They are paltry fellows; little better than common soldiers (ashigaru). But there is more to tell, now the end is reached. The true name of Sakurai Kichiro[u] is Takahashi Daihachiro[u], at one time a retainer of Matsudaira Aki no Kami. Pressed by the money lender Jusuke, I killed him and had the body disposed of by one Densuke, the cook at the soldiers' quarters of the yashiki. This was in Tenwa 3rd year 5th month (June 1683). Fleeing to avoid arrest the occupation of writing teacher was taken up at Yu[u]ki in Shimosa. Densuke, too, had fled, and hither he came as a wandering beggar. Fearing his tongue I killed him; and mutilating the corpse, threw it into the castle moat close by. A beggar found dead, no inquiry was made."—"When did this take place?" asked Gemba. "Just one year later—Jo[u]kyo[u] 1st year 5th month." He made a little movement. Nakagawa and Imai broke out into protest at the completeness of this confession, but Sakurai turned fiercely on them. "Shut up! To undergo public trial would bring shame on all kerai throughout the land; would cause people to fear our caste. We three planned the deed and secured the money." He put his arms behind his back. The yakunin, stepping softly, roped him up almost with respect. A wave of Gemba's hand and the guilty men were removed. Unable to help themselves, Nakagawa and Imai made confession to avoid the torture in what was now a hopeless case. Later the sentences of condemnation were issued. Degraded from their status the three men were taken to the execution ground of Shinagawa, and there decapitated.

The wife of Takahashi Daihachiro[u] did not wait these proceedings. The confession of her husband was in her hands before he himself told everything to Matsuda Gemba. Before night she had decamped with her son. At eight years of age Kichitaro[u] was placed as disciple (deshi) at the Jo[u]shinji of Fukagawa. Receiving the name of Myo[u]shin he became the favourite of the rector (ju[u]shoku) of the temple. The mother now became reduced to the greatest penury. For a time she was bawd in the Honjo[u] Warigesui district. Subsequently she was promoted to the position of favourite sultana (wife) of her master Toemon, local head of his profession. Her name now was O'Matsu. When Myo[u]shin was thirteen years old in some way he was told that she was dead. Henceforth he had no stay in the world but the worthy priest, who became a second and better father to him. This treatment found its usual and virtuous reward. At eighteen years, now a priest and learned in priestly ways, he took to himself the contents of the temple strong box. Fifty ryo[u] soon disappeared in the company of the harlots of Fukagawa Yagura-Shita. A prolonged absence of Myo[u]shin aroused the inquiries of the other monks, and the eyes of the rector were soon opened as to his unworthy proselyte, the blighted issue of a miserable stock.[15]



CHAPTER VI

NEGOTIATIONS: THE BUSINESS OF A MARRIAGE BROKER (NAKO[U]DO)

The presence of O'Iwa created an upheaval in the Samoncho[u] household. The wet nurse required brought with her a train of servants. With the child's growth this was maintained, even increased. The young lady (Ojo[u]san) found herself graduated into one with a status to maintain. All the niggardly habits of Matazaemon were thrown to the winds with the advent of this grandchild. The affection never shown outwardly to the mother, was lavished on her daughter. At seven years of age O'Iwa underwent the common enough infliction of smallpox. It showed itself on the anniversary day of O'Mino's death, and the child's sickness afforded but mutilated rites for the memorial service of the mother. Matazaemon would have abandoned all his duties, himself to nurse the child. O'Naka loved O'Iwa for self and daughter. She had sense enough to drive the old man into a corner of the room, then out of it; and further expostulations sent him to his duties. Who, in those iron days, would accept such excuse for absence? The child worried through, not unscathed. Her grandmother's qualifications as nurse have been mentioned. O'Iwa was a plain girl. She had the flat plate-like face of her mother. The eyes were small, disappearing behind the swollen eyelids, the hair was scanty, the disease added its black pock marks which stood thick and conspicuous on a fair skin. Otherwise she was spared by its ravages, except—

Whatever her looks O'Iwa compensated for all by her disposition. She had one of those balanced even temperaments, with clear judgment, added to a rare amiability. Moreover she possessed all the accomplishments and discipline of a lady. At eleven years Matazaemon unwillingly had sought and found a place for her in attendance on her ladyship of the great Hosokawa House. O'Iwa's absence made no difference in his household. The train of servants was maintained, to be disciplined for her return, to be ready on this return. Perhaps it was a pleasing fiction to the fond mind of the aging man that she would return, soon, to-morrow. O'Naka acquiesced in the useless expense and change in her habits. She always acquiesced; yet her own idea would have been to make a good housekeeper of O'Iwa—like herself, to sew, cook, wash, clean—a second O'Mino. She could not understand the new turn of Matazaemon's mind. As for O'Iwa, she grew to girlhood in the Hosokawa House, learned all the accomplishments of her own house and what the larger scale of her new position could teach her; everything in the way of etiquette and the polite arts, as well as the plainer tasks of housekeeping, she was likely ever to be called on to perform. The plain child grew into the plain woman; perhaps fortunately for her. The okugata (her ladyship) was a jealous woman. Her spouse was mad on women. Every nubile maid (koshimoto) in the yashiki was a candidate for concubinage. His wife countered by as hideous a collection of females as her own House and her lord's retainers could furnish. O'Iwa attracted from the first by her lack of all physical attraction. His lordship tried to get used to her with the passage of years—and failed. He could not stomach the necessary advances. But the girl's admirable temper and even judgment secured the esteem of all. These latter qualities captivated the whole household. It was O'Iwa who performed all duties for her ladyship, took them in charge as her substitute. For the first time in his life Oki no Kami found something in a woman apart from her sex. When the time came for O'Iwa to depart, the regret of lord and lady was substantially expressed in their gifts. But his lordship had to admit failure. Not a retainer could be found willing to take the daughter of Tamiya as wife. So far O'Iwa's mission at the yashiki had failed. O'Naka knew this. Matazaemon never gave it thought; so glad he was to get her back. He received the honoured words and presents with humble and delighted thanks. O'Iwa reentered her home, a recovered jewel. She was the Ojo[u]san, the lady daughter. A first step of hers was gradually to get rid of a good part of the superfluous train. O'Iwa was a very practical girl.

Matazaemon was now old and ill. He was nearing his seventieth year. The one idea in his head was the muko, the son to be adopted as husband of the heir of the House; the mate to be secured for O'Iwa, and the posterity to be secured for his House. As a little girl O'Iwa had been much courted—in fun. Watanabe Juzo[u], Natsume Kyuzo[u], Imaizumi Jinzaemon, many others the growing "sparks" of Samoncho[u] and roundabout, could not forbear this amusement with the little "Bakemono" (apparition). Of their ill intent O'Iwa knew nothing. Indeed a short experience with O'Iwa disarmed derision. Most of the unseemly lovers came genuinely to like the girl, unless inherent malice and ugliness of disposition, as with Natsume and Akiyama Cho[u]zaemon, made their sport more than mere pastime. But as grown men they could not face the results of the final step, and no parent was harsh enough to graft his unwilling stock on O'Iwa's persimmon trees. The girl was clever enough to know this. It was Ho[u]ei 6th year (1709) and she was now twenty-six years old. It was indirectly at her suggestion that Matazaemon sought the aid of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei. This man lived just behind the large inclosure of the Sainenji, on the hill slope which dips steeply down to the Samegabashi. The relationship was very distant at best; but with nearer relatives in general, and with Yoemon his brother in particular, the master of Tamiya had deadly feud. To them he would not turn to find a husband for O'Iwa.

Thus it happened that one day in the seventh month (August) Rokuro[u]bei was awaiting the appearance of Yamada Cho[u]bei. He really knew little about the man, but Cho[u]bei at one time had been resident in the ward. He had undergone vicissitudes, and now was a dealer in metals and a kind of broker in everything under the sign of Musashiya. He had a wide acquaintance over Edo in his different businesses, and was the easy and slip-shod means by which Rokuro[u]bei would avoid the more arduous part of the task laid on him by Matazaemon. Cho[u]bei was not long in putting in an appearance. All affairs were gifts of the gods to a man who lived on wind. Kazaguruma Cho[u]bei—Windmill Cho[u]bei—he was called. His flittings were so noiseless and erratic, just like the little paper windmills made for children, that the nickname applied exactly fitted him. The maid in announcing him showed no particular politeness. "Wait here a moment.... Danna Sama (master), Cho[u]bei San, the metal dealer, requests an interview."—"Ah! Pass him here at once.... Is it Cho[u]bei? Please sit down." Cho[u]bei had followed almost on the girl's footsteps. She drew aside to make room for him, then flirted out in haste. Poverty and dislike had no influence in Yotsuya in those days. She seemed to scent the man.

Cho[u]bei looked with envy at the comfortable Rokuro[u]bei. The day was hot. The thin kimono fallen about his loins, the latter's garb was a pair of drawers and a thin shirt. He sat looking out on the garden, with its shade of large trees, its shrubbery and rock work. Everything was dripping with the water industriously splashed to this side and to that by the serving man. The tea was brought and Kondo[u] at last remembered that he had a guest. As he turned—"It is a long time since a visit has been paid. Deign to pardon the intrusion." Cho[u]bei sighed in making this remark. The irony was lost on his fat host. As Rokuro[u]bei seemed unwilling, or hardly to know how to impart the subject concerning which he had summoned him, Cho[u]bei continued—"And the honoured health, is it good? The honoured business, is it on some matter of moment that Cho[u]bei is summoned?" Rokuro[u]bei woke up under the direct question. He, too, sighed. Cho[u]bei was noted for a greed which inspired fear. For money he would do anything. "Blindman Cho[u]bei" had been his nickname of old days in the ward. Kondo[u] remembered this. He liked money, too. It brought in so much comfort. He hated to part with comfort. It was to be a question between himself and Cho[u]bei how much of his hard-earned commission was to be parted with. This last thought completely aroused him. "It is a matter of securing a muko. This Rokuro[u]bei is the one charged with the task. As a son-in-law outside the ward is desired, no one has wider circulation and better opportunities than Cho[u]bei San. Hence the desire for a consultation." Cho[u]bei whistled inwardly. Outside the ward! What was wrong with the case. Here was coin to be turned up by the circumspect. "Surely there are young fellows enough in Samoncho[u], fit to be muko. Of course with impediments...."—"It is the daughter of Tamiya; O'Iwa San. Matazaemon Dono has commissioned this Rokuro[u]bei to secure a muko." Cho[u]bei whistled outwardly. "For O'Iwa San!..."—"She is no beauty, as Cho[u]bei evidently knows. Wealth compensates for other deficiencies. At all events his aid is desired."—"For how much?" Cho[u]bei spoke bluntly. If Rokuro[u]bei had forgotten Cho[u]bei, Cho[u]bei had not forgotten Rokuro[u]bei. He went on—"To get a price for damaged goods is no sinecure. Fortunately she is only out of repair on the surface.... Say ten ryo[u]?" Kondo[u] laughed scornfully—"And they call Cho[u]bei 'the Blind-man'! Rather is it vision magnified. The entertainment should be the reward; with what Cho[u]bei collects from the happy bridegroom." Cho[u]bei replied gravely—"With such a wealthy connection the future of Kondo[u] Dono is to be envied. Cho[u]bei has to realize his future at once. Not a ryo[u] less can he afford." Plainly he was in earnest, as was the long conversation which followed. Finally Cho[u]bei emerged with partial success, and half the sum named as stipend for his labours.

He began them at once. The next day he was at the metal market in Kanda. In course of chaffering over wares he never bought—"You fellows always have some ro[u]nin in train; a fine, handsome fellow for whom a wife is needed. Application is made. Jinzaemon, you have a candidate."—"Not for the kind of wife Cho[u]bei San provides." Those present laughed loudly at the sally. Cho[u]bei did not wink. He explained. "No bad provision is this one. Rich, with an income of thirty tawara, a fine property in reversion, and but twenty-five years old. The man therefore must be fit to pose as a samurai; able to read and write, to perform official duty, he must be neither a boy nor a man so old as to be incapable. Come now! Does no one come forward? Ro[u]nin are to be had. A ryo[u] for aid to this Cho[u]bei."—"Too cheap as an offer," was Jinzaemon's retort. "A ro[u]nin is one to be handled with care. Those favoured with acquaintance of the honoured bushi often part with life and company at the same date. Those without lords are equally testy as those in quarters." He spoke with the bluntness of the true Edokko, the peculiar product of the capital; men who were neither farmers nor provincials, but true descendants of the men of the guild of Bandzuin Cho[u]bei. He jested, but the subject interested the crowd. Said one—"Does Cho[u]bei San get the ryo[u] out of groom or bride? She is a bold wench, unmarried at that age; and none too chaste eh, Cho[u]bei San? She will provide the husband with wife and child to hand, or in the making. Or, are matters the other way? Has she been tried and found wanting? Is she impotent, or deformed; or is Cho[u]bei making fools of us?" Answered Cho[u]bei slowly—"No; she is a little ugly. The face round and flat, shining, with black pock marks, making it look like speckled pumice, rouses suspicion of leprosy. This, however, is not the case. At all events she is a woman." All were now roaring with laughter—"A very beauty indeed! Just the one for Cho[u]bei's trade! Too honied was his speech. He would market anything. But in this market it is a matter of hard cash; without credit. This is a bit of goods too wilted. Even Cho[u]bei cannot sell it."—"You lie!" said Cho[u]bei in a towering passion. "At the first hint of ill-fortune threatening wine supply or pleasure, there is not one of you who would not turn to Cho[u]bei to find the money needed. Sisters, daughters, wives, aunts ... mothers are for sale." He was choking with rage. "Sell her? Cho[u]bei can and will." Angered by the final item on his family list, a man nearby gave him a sharp poke in the back. Others voiced resentment, perhaps would have given it material form. The canal was spoken of. Cho[u]bei took the hint. He did not wait for a ducking. At a sharp pace he trotted off toward his tenement at Asakusa Hanagawado[u]. For a while he would avoid the metal market. He regretted his display of temper. It was in the necessities of other trades that he found the material of his own, and flourished.

In plain terms Kazaguruma Cho[u]bei was a pimp for the Yoshiwara and kindred quarters. His other occupations were mere channels accessory to this main business. Hence his seasons of increase and decline. Just now he was in a period of decline. His eagerness in this Tamiya affair was sharpened. Pushing his way through the Kuramae of Asakusa suddenly a hopeful light came into his eye. Abruptly he made his way to the side of the roadway. Here boarding covered the ditch, removing the occupant of a booth erected thereon, and would-be clients, from the passing stream of humanity. There was a table in the booth, and on it were several books, a vessel containing water, brushes (fude), scrolls for writing, and a box containing divining sticks. It was the stand of a strolling fortune-teller. At the time the occupant was engaged in gathering together his professional apparatus, with the evident purpose to decamp. Cho[u]bei did not delay in accosting him. "Ah! The Sensei;[16] Kazuma Uji finds the day too hot to pry into the future. Does the Sensei leave his clients to their fate, or have the clients abandoned the Sensei? Deign to come along with Cho[u]bei. Perhaps he, too, can tell fortunes. At all events the wife has been forewarned; the bath is ready. It will put life into both of us." The young man laughed and hastened his operations, nodding assent—"Thanks are felt, Cho[u]bei San. Indeed this Kazuma has but to continue the art of prophecy if he would foretell his own fate. No one will buy the future when money is so needed for the present. Besides this is a pleasure ground. Men have no hankering to learn of possible worse luck than being here. All the fools have died—except their prophet." He shouldered his scanty apparatus, and with rapid stride the two men pushed their way up the crowded street toward the great gate of the temple. In his haste Cho[u]bei yet had time to eye, from time to time, his companion, always gaining encouragement from the palpable seediness made more plain by a handsome person. The two were neighbours in a house-row (nagaya) of the Hanagawado[u], that poverty-stricken district along the river close to the great amusement ground, and furnishing those who perform its baser tasks. On arrival Cho[u]bei called out—"O'Taki! O'Taki! The bath, is it ready? The Sensei, Kazuma San, honours us with his company. Make all ready for his reception.... Sensei, condescend to enter; please come up."

Yanagibara Kazuma dropped his clogs in the vestibule. As he entered the room—"Pray pardon the intrusion. This Kazuma feels much in the way. He is continually putting his neighbours of the nagaya to inconvenience; too great the kindness of Cho[u]bei San and wife." O'Taki laughed deprecatingly. Truly this was a handsome young man. In this 6th year of Ho[u]ei (1709) Yanagibara Kazuma was twenty-one years of age. O'Taki was thirty odd. She appreciated masculine beauty all the more. Cho[u]bei grunted from heat and the merest trace of discomfiture. He had his limit, even in his business. Quickly he shook off his kimono, and fan in hand squatted in his loin cloth. "Ah! 'Tis hot beyond endurance. Business is bad—from Yoshiwara to Yotsuya." O'Taki looked up at the last word. He continued—"The Sensei takes precedence. Kazuma Uji, deign to enter the bath. All is ready?" His wife nodded assent. Kazuma followed the example of Cho[u]bei. In a trice he was naked as his mother bore him. Cho[u]bei burst out into phrases of admiration—"What a splendid fellow! Ah! Waste of material! If a woman Kazuma San would be a fortune to himself and to Cho[u]bei.... Taki, note the skin of the Sensei. It has the texture of the finest paper. How regrettable!" He drew back for the better inspection of the sum total of his subject's charms. O'Taki drew closer for the same purpose. Cho[u]bei sighed—"It is plain enough that Kazuma San is not a woman. An error of Nature! Somehow the age at which a woman becomes of use, is that at which a boy becomes a mere burden. He is fit for nothing but to be a story-teller.... And you, Taki, what are you about?" The lady of his affections was far advanced in the process of disrobing. She protested. "Does not the Sensei need aid in the bath? How cleanse the back, the shoulders. This Taki would aid him."—"Immodest wench!" bellowed Cho[u]bei. "The Sensei needs no such aid. Why! You ... Taki ... one would take you for a charcoal ball (tadon), so dark your skin. Nay! For two of them, for a cluster piled in a box, so round the buttocks and belly. The Sensei wants no aid from such an ugly jade. This Cho[u]bei can do what is needed; with as much skill and better purpose than a woman." Kazuma modestly interposed in this incipient quarrel between husband and wife. "Nay, the matter is of no importance. Kazuma is grateful for such kindness, but aid is not needed. His arm is long." He held it out, almost simian in proportion and slenderness, the one proportional defect of this handsome body. The quarrel of Cho[u]bei and O'Taki lapsed before his pleasant smile.

Seated over tea said Cho[u]bei—"This Cho[u]bei, too, has claimed to be a diviner. Don't deny it. The Sensei at one time has been a priest." Kazuma looked at him with surprise, even misgiving. Explained Cho[u]bei—"The manner in which the Sensei takes up the cup betrays him; in both hands, with a little waving of the vessel and shake of the head. The rust of the priest's garb clings close." Said Kazuma—"Cho[u]bei San is a clever fellow. It is true. At one time I was priest."—"Whereabouts?" asked Cho[u]bei. "At the Reigan of Fukagawa," replied the prophet—"Ah! Reiganji; and later would return to the life of a samurai. Such pose and manner possessed by the Sensei are only gained in good company. He would reassume the status. This Cho[u]bei was not always as he is. Wine, women, gambling, have brought him to pimping. The buying of geisha and joro[u] cost the more as they imply the other two vices. Wife, status, fortune; all are gone. Such has been Cho[u]bei's fate."—"Not the only case of the kind," grumbled his partner in concubinage. "And the wife, what has become of her?"—"None of Taki's affair, as she is no longer an issue. Would the jade be jealous?" He glowered at her. "But Kazuma San, this Cho[u]bei is not only diviner, to tell fortunes. He can make them." Kazuma laughed. "Don't joke. Cho[u]bei San's line of business has already cost this Kazuma fortune and position."—"To secure a better one. Kazuma San is a ro[u]nin (without lord), a man of education, and of fine appearance. He is just the one to become a muko."—"In some tradesman's family?" The samurai spoke with disdain. Said Cho[u]bei eagerly—"No: Cho[u]bei prophesied the return of Kazuma Uji to his own caste."—"At what cost?" said Kazuma coolly. "The honour of a samurai cannot stand open taint. Kazuma has no desire to cut belly at too early a date, to save the situation for others. Has the woman erred, and is the father's sword dulled?"—"It is no such case," answered Cho[u]bei. "The parents, rather grandparents, are fools in pride. The girl is twenty-five years old, rich, and, one must admit, not too good looking. It is by a mere chance, a former connection, that the affair comes into Cho[u]bei's hands. As Kazuma Uji knows, it is not much in his line. Let us share the good luck together."—"Is she a monster; one of those long-necked, pop-eyed rokurokubi?"—"That can be determined at the meeting," said the cautious Cho[u]bei. "She is somewhat pock-marked, as with others. It is a matter of luck. Cho[u]bei's position forces him to fall back on Kazuma San as the only likely man to recommend. Deign not to refuse to come to his aid."—"Rich, and granddaughter of people old in years." He eyed Cho[u]bei quizzically. The latter nodded agreement. "No matter what her looks, this Kazuma accepts with thanks—unless this be a jest of Cho[u]bei San." Cho[u]bei slightly coughed—"There is a commission...."—"Ah! Then the foundation is rock. As to commission, assuredly; Kazuma is not rich, nor in funds."—"But will be. At ten ryo[u] it is a cheap affair."—"Agreed," replied the diviner carelessly. "The money will be paid."—"With the delivery of the goods." Cho[u]bei now was all gaiety—"Of the Rokurokubi, the monster with sextuple lengthed neck," laughed Kazuma Sensei as he took his leave. He was engaged to meet Cho[u]bei the next day at the house of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei in Yotsuya.



CHAPTER VII

IEMON APPEARS

In his difficult mission Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei had hopes of Cho[u]bei; but not much more. It was with no small pleasure that he heard the announcement of his visit the next morning. The maid was a shade more civil—"Please wait." Kondo[u] was decidedly so. He greeted Cho[u]bei with an effusion which Cho[u]bei noted. The tea brought, the two men faced each other over the cups. To Kondo[u]'s inquiring look—"Honoured master the task is a difficult one." He retailed his experience at the Kanda market. Kondo[u] was somewhat discomfited. He had put a different interpretation on the early visit of Cho[u]bei. Continued the latter—"A difficult task, but not hopeless. Surely five ryo[u] is very small remuneration." Kondo[u]'s eye lit up. Cho[u]bei had his man. "It is all this Kondo[u] is qualified to give. Cho[u]bei knows Tamiya Dono. After all it is he who pays, and Cho[u]bei can claim but his share. However, the matter is not urgent. A bad turn with Matazaemon, and O'Naka will be much easier to deal with ... unless it be Yoemon who interposes." He made a wry face; joined in by Cho[u]bei. Kondo[u] went on—"It is matter of regret to have troubled you. The parents of Natsume Kyuzo[u] show signs of breaking off present negotiations and coming round to us. This is a matter of yesterday, and on hearing that the affair of O'Iwa San was definitely in the hands of Rokuro[u]bei." Cho[u]bei was frightened. Was this the cause of Kondo[u]'s joy? Had he misinterpreted on his entrance? He put out a hand, as if to stop the talk of his host. "Deign to allow the money question to stand as agreed. Such step would put this Cho[u]bei in an awkward position. The man is found, and soon will be here. Probably even Kondo[u] Dono will be satisfied."—"Who is he?" asked Kondo[u].—"One Yanagibara Kazuma. He has practised divination at Asakusa...."—"A charlatan! A quack doctor! Cho[u]bei, are you mad?" Rokuro[u]bei pushed back his cushion and his cue in horror. Not a word did he say of Natsume Kyuzo[u]. Cho[u]bei smiled. He had been trapped; but he had detected Kondo[u]. "Don't be alarmed. The man is a ro[u]nin, his divination of small account and due to temporary stress. Kondo[u] Dono will soon judge of the man by his appearance. Let the subject of Kazuma San be dropped—with that of Natsume San. Our bargain has been made firm." Kondo[u] looked down. He felt a little injured. Continued Cho[u]bei—"For his man Cho[u]bei cannot answer if all be known. Pray follow my plan, and precede us to the house of Matazaemon. He must not see O'Iwa at this juncture. Tamiya Dono is ill and not visible. The Obasan is wise enough to do as she is told. Years have drilled that into her. O'Iwa has taken cold. Her hair is loose and she cannot think of appearing. Make this known when the time comes to serve the wine. Meanwhile send her off on some mission; to the house of Akiyama, or that of the newly-wed Imaizumi."—"But the man must see the girl," protested Kondo[u]. Answered Cho[u]bei—"He must see the property. It is with that Cho[u]bei intends he shall become enamoured. He is not to see the girl until she is his wife. To keep the estate he will cleave to the woman. Trust Cho[u]bei for a knowledge of men's hearts ... at least that of Yanagibara Kazuma." Perhaps he spoke a little too plainly. Rokuro[u]bei had a last touch of conscience—"Cho[u]bei, what manner of man is this one you bring? What is his real nature? Tamiya is upright as the walls of the Honmaru (castle). And Yanagibara Kazuma...." Cho[u]bei's brow wrinkled. He was spared an answer. Said the maid—"Yanagibara Sama would see the master."—"Show him in at once," said Rokuro[u]bei.

He rose, as much in amazement as in courtesy. Kazuma was a striking figure as he entered the room. His dress of white Satsuma was of finest quality, and perfectly aligned. The haori (cloak) was of the corrugated Akashi crape. In his girdle he wore the narrow swords then coming into fashion, with finely lacquered scabbards. In person he was tall, fair, with high forehead and big nose. Slender and sinewy every movement was lithe as that of a cat. Kondo[u] gasped as he made the accustomed salutations. "This man for O'Iwa! Bah! A fox has stolen a jewel." All his compunction and discretion vanished before this unusual presence. Kazuma gracefully apologized for his intrusion, thus uninvited. Kondo[u] stammered protests and his delight at the opportunity of meeting Yanagibara Dono. Cho[u]bei smiled inward and outward delight at thus summarily removing any too pointed objections of Kondo[u]. For absolute self-possession in this awkward situation the younger man easily carried the palm. Kazuma acted as would a man double his years. Cho[u]bei was not only delighted, but astonished. "Whence had the Sensei produced all this wondrous get-up? Was he in real fact a magician?" Kazuma knew, but he was not one to enlighten Cho[u]bei or anyone else. After talk on general matters the affair of the meeting was broached. Said Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei—"Thus to trouble Yanagibara Dono requires apology, but the affair is not without advantage. The lady is the daughter of Tamiya, a do[u]shin and favoured by the Hosokawa House. This Kondo[u] is honoured in presenting Kazuma Dono in Yotsuya."—"Nay, fear enters.[17] The honour of this meeting with Kondo[u] Dono is as great as the intrusion has been unseemly. Deign to pardon the precipitancy of this Kazuma." Kondo[u] protested in his turn. Said Cho[u]bei—"The presentation made, doubtless the matter is as good as concluded. But Tamiya Dono is ill; this visit is unexpected. If Kondo[u] Dono would deign to precede, and ascertain how matters are at Tamiya, it would be well." To this Kondo[u] assented. Making his excuses he set out for Samoncho[u], bubbling over with excitement, and praying that the matter would have certain issue; and thus establish him for life on the shoulders of the wealthy Tamiya. Prayers? Indeed he did stop on the road, one lined with the ecclesiastical structures. Kondo[u] had too much at stake, not to invoke all likely aid.

With his departure Cho[u]bei began to go into the externals of the House of Tamiya. As they walked along—"Congenial surroundings." This was with a grin and a wave of the hand toward the long line of temple buildings and graveyards they were passing. "Not much savour of present lodging in Hanagawado[u]. Eh! Kazuma Uji, even Cho[u]bei notes the difference." He stopped opposite the Gwansho[u]ji and looked across the way. The fruit was already formed on the trees of Matazaemon's garden. "Persimmons of a hundred momme (375 grammes) each; twenty cartloads for the profit of the house at the fall of the year." As they passed in the entrance on Samoncho[u] he pointed to a store-house. "Stuffed with rice, from the farms of Tamiya in Kazusa. No husks to be found in it."—"Who said there were?" said Kazuma testily. His eyes were taking in the wide proportions of the garden, the spreading roof and eaves of a stately mansion. As they passed along the ro[u]ka to a sitting room Cho[u]bei called his attention to the fret work (rama-sho[u]ji) between the rooms, the panelled ceilings, the polished and rare woodwork of tokonoma (alcoves). A kakemono of the severe Kano school was hung in the sitting room alcove, a beautifully arranged vase of flowers stood beneath it. Matazaemon could not use his legs, but his hands were yet active. Of his visitors he knew nothing; least of all of Cho[u]bei. Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei appeared. With him was an old lady. O'Naka bowed to the ground before the proposed son-in-law. She was in a flutter over the beautiful man destined for O'Iwa. The admirable courtesy of his manners, the tender softness of voice, robbed her of what little judgment she had. Her only fear was that the candidate for honours and the Tamiya would escape.

Said Cho[u]bei—"Asakusa is a long distance; the occasion exceptional. Cannot the Ojo[u]san favour us by pouring the wine?" The old woman hummed and hawed. Kondo[u], too, seemed put out. "As a matter of fact O'Iwa is not presentable. She has taken cold, and just now is in bed. Perhaps the Obasan will urge her further, now that Yanagibara Uji is present." O'Naka at once rose, like to an automaton, the spring of which has been pressed. She disappeared, to return and repeat her lesson. "Wilful as a child! One would suppose her such. Illness she would disregard, but her hair is not made up. She cannot think of appearing before company. Truly she is vexing."—"Not so," defended Cho[u]bei. "She could not show higher regard than by refusing to appear before a future husband in careless attire. It is a guarantee of conduct when married. She is much to be commended for such respect. All women like to appear well. A man in the neighbourhood, and rice powder and rouge are at once applied. How neglect such an elaborate structure as the hair? Trust Cho[u]bei's judgment as to women."

O'Naka thought that he spoke well, but like most men with great conceit. Kazuma looked out towards the beautiful garden. He took the chance to smile, for he had soon ascertained that Kondo[u] knew little about his agent; was in fact a precipitate, testy man. However, he was a little put out at not seeing the would-be bride. At an opportunity he stepped out, to see more of the house and its surroundings. Cho[u]bei came up to him as he stood on the ro[u]ka. His voice was coaxing and pleading. "Is it not a fine prospect—for Kazuma Dono?" His voice hung on the 'Dono.' "Nay, don't let escape this splendid piece of luck. Long has Cho[u]bei interested himself in his neighbour. Such a beautiful exterior should have a proper setting. Marry O'Iwa San and Kazuma Dono is master of Tamiya. Is it agreed?" Kazuma looked down in thought. At his age there are ideals of the other sex, hard to put aside. Said he—"Not to see the lady.... Is she so horrible?" Cho[u]bei protested. "Not so! The lady is a mere item, well fitted to go with this fine house, this beautiful garden, these store-houses filled with goods. Look: Tamiya Dono is a man of double rations. The property has nagaya for attendants. For long this has not been used. Tamiya will not rent it out. It will be so much revenue added to the stipend of the House, and will replace the old man's uncertain income from his accomplishments as master of hanaike and cha-no-yu." Kazuma looked around, following the pointing finger of Cho[u]bei. He was in sad straits. His only future was this position of a muko. No matter what the woman might be, there was compensation. To Cho[u]bei's direct question he made answer—"Yes."

The affair of the marriage suffered no delays. Cho[u]bei had struck home. Kazuma was so impressed with the surroundings, especially after a return to his own miserable quarters, that the matter of the interview took a minor place to the inspection of his future property. Within the week he had removed to the house of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei. The latter introduced him to his future associates in the ward by a succession of fish and wine dinners dear to the heart of the men of Nippon. These neighbours were astonished at the future son-in-law of the Tamiya. This man was to be the husband of the O'Bake? Was he mad, or drunk? Perhaps the latter, for neither themselves nor Kazuma had the opportunity to be particularly sober during this period of festivity. Of course there was an introduction to Matazaemon, the other principal involved. As Kondo[u] carefully explained, no set date could be made for this interview. Tamiya Dono was ill, and to be seen at a favourable time. As ill luck would have it, on the very day the interview was permitted O'Iwa San received an urgent summons from the Okugata of the Hosokawa House. This could not be disregarded, and her absence on the second occasion was easily explained and condoned. Kondo[u] certainly made no effort, and Kazuma no suggestion, for a meeting in the three days intervening before the formal marriage.

At evening the guests met in the reception rooms of Tamiya. In a private apartment were Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei and his wife, O'Iwa, and Iemon. The latter name had been assumed by Kazuma on his formal registration in the Tamiya House. It was Cho[u]bei who had purchased the wataboshi, or wadded hood, of floss silk worn by the bride on this great occasion of her life. Iemon could see but little within its depths, except the shining light of her countenance. Joy perhaps? At least this curiosity was soon to be satisfied. Nine times—three times three—were the sake cups drained. Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei joined the hands of the train, exhorting them to mutual forbearance, O'Iwa to unquestioning obedience to the husband. He pattered over the maxims of the Do[u]jikun of Kaibara Yekken in this strange case, as he had done twenty times before with favourable results. Yekken's book was comparatively recent, only a few decades old, and the woman's guide. Truly the position of the nako[u]do was no easy one, if it was to bring him at odds with either House involved. He felt complacent. This pair at least presented less complications in that line than usual. What there was of doubtful issue came now to the test. At this crisis he cast an eye to the ro[u]ka (verandah) to see that Cho[u]bei really was at hand as promised. Then the strings of the wataboshi were loosed. The hood concealing the face of O'Iwa was removed.

Iemon rose to his feet as if impelled by springs; then hurriedly he sat again with some mumbled excuse and trembling hands. He could not take his eyes from the shining white of the face before him, the glazed smooth surface left in many places between the black of the pock marks. The removal of the hood had somewhat disarrayed the hair, leaving the broad expanse of forehead more prominent, the puffed heavy eyelids in the face more conspicuous. In the depths shone two tiny points, the eyes. Indeed, as Cho[u]bei afterwards described it, eyelids and eyes had the appearance of kuzumanju, the dumplings of white rice paste with the black dots of dark brown bean paste sunk deep in the centre. Never had O'Iwa appeared to such disadvantage. She was now engaged in removing the white garment, to appear in her proper array as bride and wife. Iemon took advantage of this absence to step to the ro[u]ka. In leaving the room Kondo[u] had given a wink to Cho[u]bei. Iemon almost ran into him. He seized him by the arm. The young man's voice was excited. He spoke in a whisper, as one who could barely find speech. With satisfaction Cho[u]bei noted that he was frightened, not angered. "What is that? Who is that creature?" were the first words of Iemon. Replied Cho[u]bei coldly—"That is the wife of Tamiya Iemon; O'Iwa San, daughter of Matazaemon Dono; your wife to eight thousand generations." Then roughly—"Deign, Iemon San, not to be a fool. In the purchase of cow or horse, what does the buyer know of the animal? Its real qualities remain to be ascertained. O'Iwa San is ugly. That much Cho[u]bei will admit. She is pock-marked, perhaps stoops a little. But if the daughter of the rich Tamiya, a man with this splendid property, had been a great beauty, this Iemon would not have become the muko of Tamiya, the future master of its wealth. What qualification had he for such a position—a diviner, a man whose pedigree perhaps would not stand too much search." He looked keenly at Iemon, and noted with satisfaction how the last thrust had gone home. Cho[u]bei must know more of Iemon, ex-Kazuma. He determined on that for the future.

He continued—"Withdrawal at this juncture would merely create scandal. Matazaemon is not so bereft of friends that such a step would not cause serious displeasure in high quarters. The insult would find an avenger. Then consider please: the old man is kept alive by the anxiety to see his granddaughter established in life, the line of the Tamiya assured. He will die within the month. If the old woman hangs on too long"—he halted speech for a moment, then coldly—"give her lizard to eat. A diviner, doubtless Iemon San knows Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei by this time. He will never prejudice the man who holds in his hands the purse of the Tamiya. Iemon San and O'Iwa San are left alone. Good luck to you, honoured Sir, in the encounter. In this Cho[u]bei a counsellor and friend always is to be found; and one by no means lacking experience of the world. As for the woman, she is your wife; one to take charge of the house and affairs of Iemon Dono is to hand. No other rusu[18] could be found so earnest in duty and so cheap, as O'Iwa San. Take a concubine. This Cho[u]bei will purchase one for you; such a one as will be the object of envy and desire to the whole of young Edo. His opportunities in that line are exceptional. Come! To turn on the lights. On our part at least there is nothing to conceal." Iemon did not pay attention to the hint. The one thought harassing him must out—"lop-sided and—a leper!" He spoke with despair and conviction, eyes fastened on Cho[u]bei, and such a frightened look that even Cho[u]bei had pity. One foot in the room he turned back. "That is not so—absolutely." Iemon could not disbelieve the earnest testimony. Said Cho[u]bei—"The wounds of smallpox were no trivial ones. In healing the scars were such in places as form over burns. Hence the shining surface. Positively there is no leprous taint in Tamiya." He was gratified by the sigh which came from Iemon, sign of the immense weight lifted off the young man's mind. "Bah! leave things to the future, and—enjoy the present. O'Iwa cannot grow ugly with age. So much is gained. What difference will her looks make to Iemon thirty years hence? She is a woman. Make a child on her. Then you are free to turn elsewhere."

At once he began to place lights everywhere, as a sign to Kondo[u] that all was well. This worthy came forward with other guests, to congratulate the Tamiya House on being once more in young and vigorous hands. It was Iemon himself who gave the signal to retire. How matters went alone with his bride has reference to one of those occasions over which the world draws the veil of decency. In the morning O'Iwa arose early to attend to the matutinal needs of her spouse. The ablutions performed, Iemon sat down to tea, as exquisite and exquisitely served as in any dream in literature of how such ceremony of the opening day should be performed. Then the morning meal was brought, under the same supervision of this woman, as expert in all the technique of her craft as she was ugly in feature; and that was saying much. Iemon watched her movements in the room with curiosity, mixed with a little pain and admiration. He was quick to note the skill with which she concealed the slight limp, due to the shrinking of the sinews of one leg and causing an unevenness of gait. It was a blemish in the little quick movements of a woman of surpassing grace; who by art had conquered disease and an ungainly figure.

O'Iwa had left the room for a moment to get flowers to place in the vases, offering to the hotoke (Spirits of the departed) in the Butsudan. On his return Iemon held the ihai (memorial tablets) in his hands. A priest, these had at once attracted his notice. "Kangetsu Shinshi; Kangetsu Shimmyo[u]; O'Iwa San, these people have died on the same day of the month—and the year?"—"Is on the back of the ihai," replied O'Iwa. "No; it is not a case of suicide together." Then seeing his evident curiosity she motioned him to sit as she poured tea, ready for a long story. With its progress voice and manner grew more strained and earnest. She never took her eyes from the tatami (mats). "The tablets are those of the father and mother of this Iwa. My mother's name was Mino. Daughter of Tamiya she acted badly with my father Densuke, a mere servant in the house. This Densuke was a good man, but his status of chu[u]gen made my grandfather very angry. He drove the twain from the house. Thus deprived of means to live, my father took a position as cook in the yashiki of a great noble. Here he was frightened into becoming the tool of a very wicked man. Having killed an usurer this man forced my father to dispose of the body under penalty of death if he refused. The body being placed in a cloth, my father had carried it to his house. During his short absence my mother's curiosity led her into untying the bundle. Her screams aroused the neighbourhood. As they entered she was seized with convulsions, and gave birth to this Iwa, thus brought into the world together with the exposure of the crime. My father, doubtless warned by the crowd, fled from Edo. My mother had but time to tell her story to the kenshi. Then she died. A year later to the day my father's dead body was found floating in the castle moat, near the town of Yu[u]ki in Shimosa. A beggar man, but little inquiry was made into the crime. For long the cause and the criminal were unknown. Then a banto[u] was robbed in the Shiba Kirido[u]shi; his companion was killed. The criminals were traced, and on confession were put to death. The leader and most wicked of them also confessed to the murder of the usurer Jusuke and to that of my father Densuke. My father had met him again in Yu[u]ki town, and had aroused in him fear of denunciation of past crimes. He spoke of 'this Densuke' as a superstitious, haunted fool; thus in his wickedness regarding my father's remorse and desire to clear up the strange affair. The execution of this man removed all chance of my avenging the deaths of father and mother on himself. But he has left behind a son. The one wish of this Iwa is to meet with Kichitaro[u]; to avenge on him the wickedness of his father Takahashi Daihachiro[u]." Iemon at first had followed in idle mood her story. With the development of the details he showed an attention which grew in intensity at every stage. With the mention of the name of Takahashi Daihachiro[u] he gave a violent start. Yanagibara Kazuma, Iemon Tamiya—what were these but names to cover this Kichitaro[u], the one-time priest Myo[u]shin of the Jo[u]shinji at Reigan Fukagawa, and son of Daihachiro[u].

Strange was this retributory fate which had brought these two into the most intimate relations of husband and wife. When Iemon could control his voice he said—"That O'Iwa San should have this feeling in reference to the wicked Daihachiro[u] can be understood. But why such hatred toward this Kichitaro[u]? Surely the boy is not to be held guilty of the father's offence!"—"That is a man's way of reasoning," answered O'Iwa. "A woman, ignorant and foolish, has but her feelings to consult. To seven births this Iwa will clutch and chew the wicked son of a wicked father. Against Kichitaro[u] is the vow made." She raised her head. Iemon turned away shuddering. She had aged into a hag. The shining face, the marks like black spots in pumice standing out, the mere dots of eyes in their puffy bed, the spreading mouth with its large shining teeth—all turned the plain gentle girl into a very demon. The certainty, the intensity, of a malignant hate was driven into Iemon. He was so frightened that he even nodded assent to her last words. The gentle voice of O'Iwa added—"Iwa is ugly; perhaps annoys by the tale. Leave the affair to her and to the enemy. To Iemon she is bound for two existences. Deign to drop all formality; call her Iwa, and condescend to regard her with affection." And Iemon covenanted with himself so to do. The present should compensate for the past. But in the days which followed O'Iwa sat on him as a nightmare. He felt the impress of her teeth at his throat, and would wake up gasping. Time made the situation familiar. He carefully lulled her into a blind admiration and belief in her husband Iemon. There seemed no likelihood of O'Iwa learning the truth; or believing it, if she did.[19]



CHAPTER VIII

IF OLD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT

Matazaemon's illness justified all the predictions of Cho[u]bei. In the course of the month it was plain that his last hold on life was rapidly weakening. In that time Iemon had won golden opinions from household and neighbours. His face was beautiful, and this they saw. His heart was rotten to the core, and this he kept carefully concealed. The incentive of his fear of O'Iwa kept up the outward signs of good-will. He found this easier with the passage of the days. Plain as she was in face and figure, no one could help being attracted by the goodness of O'Iwa's disposition. Iemon, in his peculiar situation, placed great hopes on this, even if discovery did take place. Day following day he began to discount this latter contingency. To a feeling of half liking, half repugnance, was added a tinge of contempt for one so wrapped in her immediate surroundings, whose attention was so wholly taken up with the matter in hand. She easily could be kept in ignorance, easily be beguiled.

One day Iemon was summoned to the old man's bedside. He was shocked at the change which had taken place in a few hours. Propped upon pillows Matazaemon would speak a few last words. With a shade of his old impertinent official smile and manner—"The Tamiya is to be congratulated on its great good fortune in the entrance of one so well qualified by appearance and manners to uphold its reputation. Deign, honoured Muko San, to accept the thanks of this Matazaemon. All else has been placed in the hands of Iemon—goods, reputation, granddaughter." Iemon bowed flat in acknowledgment and protest at the good-will expressed. Continued Matazaemon—"There is one matter close to the old man's heart. Concerning that he would make his last request to the admirable heart of Iemon. Iwa is a plain girl. The end of time for man, and the carping comment of neighbours come to his ears, have opened the eyes of Matazaemon to the truth. Great has been the favour in disregarding this plainness and taking her to wife. Everything is in the hands of Iemon San. Consider her happiness and deign to use her well. Abstain if possible from taking a concubine. At all events conceal the fact from Iwa, if it be deigned to keep such company. Plainness and jealousy go together. Faithful and upright, such a disposition as hers is not to be strained on that point. She would be very unhappy. Better the light women of Shinjuku Nakacho[u], than one who takes the place of the wife. Condescend to remember this last request of Tamiya Matazaemon." He clasped the hand of Iemon, and tears were in his eyes as he spoke. Iemon, too, was affected. It almost frightened him to be left alone with O'Iwa. "Deign not to consider such unlikely contingency. The amiability of O'Iwa is compensation for the greatest beauty. Who could think of injuring her in any way? Perhaps a child soon will be the issue. With this in mind condescend to put aside all gloomy thoughts. Concentrate the honoured will on life, and complete recovery to health will follow. Such, indeed, is the daily prayer of this Iemon at the Myo[u]gyo[u]ji."

Matazaemon smiled faintly—with gratification or grimness? Perhaps death unseals the vision. Often indeed did Iemon present himself at the family temple; he the substitute for the Master of Tamiya. But as often did his feet return by the diametrically opposite direction, running the gauntlet of the charms of the frail beauties of Nakacho[u]. Iemon held on to the hand of Matazaemon, swearing and forswearing himself with the greatest earnestness and the best of intentions. Suddenly he raised his head. The emotion aroused by the interview had been too much for the old man's fluttering heart. His head had slipped down sideways on the pillow. A little stream of dark bitter refuse flowed from the mouth and choked him. He was dead.

Great was the grief of wife and grandchild; great was the importance of Iemon, now in very fact Master of Tamiya. Whether or not he followed the advice of Cho[u]bei, and gave the old woman tokage (lizard); whether her constant small journeys to the houses of neighbours, reciting a litany of praise of this wondrous son-in-law; whether the loss of the companion of so many years wore out the feeble frame; it is fact that O'Naka followed her lord before the maple leaf turned red. Again the Tamiya was the scene of the funereal chanting of the priest. The corpse removed with the provision for the guests and watchers at the wake, the seventh night of the death observed, with this removal of the deceased spirit from the scenes of its former activities Iemon could turn himself without impediment to the life of the future. Outward change there was none. He was the same kind and affectionate husband as of former days. Neighbours, anticipating some change of manner, were still louder in their praises. One day there appeared at Tamiya two intimates, Natsume Kyuzo[u] and Imaizumi Jinzaemon. "Iemon Uji, a matter of importance presses. We are on our way to the ward head, Ito[u] Kwaiba Dono. Deign to go in company. You are known to be an expert at go,[20] a game at which the old man prides himself for skill. He chafes at the presence of this unknown rival, heard of but not yet tested. A dinner and wine are at stake. Without Iemon Uji we do not dare to present ourselves. Condescend to go in company. To know the great man of the ward, the wealthy Ito[u] Kwaiba, is of advantage even to Tamiya." Iemon laughed and assented. He was soon dressed for the greater ceremony of a first visit. All three climbed down into their clogs, and set out for the house of the Kumi-gashira near Samegabashi.

If Iemon had been impressed by the wealth of Tamiya, he felt insignificant before that of the head of Yotsuya. Ito[u] Kwaiba was a man of sixty-four years, retaining much of the vigour of his youth. For the past ten years he had added go to his twin passions for wine and women, neither of which seemed to have made any impression on a keenness of sight which could read the finest print by the scanty light of an andon, teeth which could chew the hard and tough dried mochi (rice paste) as if bean confection, and an activity of movement never to be suspected from his somewhat heavy frame. At the name of Tamiya he looked up with much curiosity, and Iemon thought his greeting rather brusque. He saluted with great respect—"Truly fear is inspired. For long no visit has been paid to the honoured head. Coming thus without invitation is very rude. Intrusion is feared."—"Nay! Nay!" replied Kwaiba, apparently attracted by the splendid externals of Iemon. "The failure to visit is reciprocal. In fact, Tamiya and this Kwaiba have been at odds these many years. Visits had altogether ceased. This, however, is no matter for the younger generation. But Iemon San is indeed a fine fellow. So Kwaiba had heard from all he met. Ah! A fellow to put all the girls in a flutter. He is the very image of this Kwaiba in younger years. The husbands were little troubled when he was around. The fair ones were attracted. Well, well: they all had their turn at Kwaiba; and Kwaiba has stood the pace. He is as good to-day as ever; in some ways.... And it is a man like Iemon San who has married the—lady of Tamiya." Iemon knew the term "O'Bake" had nearly slipped out. Knowing O'Iwa's attractiveness of temperament, feeling touched in his own conceit, this astonished and satirical reception he met with on every side nettled him more than a little. Perhaps Kwaiba noted it. With greatest unction he urged a cushion and at once changed the subject. "Iemon San is noted as a go player. This Kwaiba is a mere amateur. It is for him to ask odds in making request for a game.... Ho! Heigh! The go board and stones!"

Kwaiba and Iemon were the antagonists. Natsume and Imaizumi sat at the sides of the board. Kwaiba, confident in his powers, readily accepted the deprecatory answer of Iemon at its face value. The game was to be on even terms. Iemon really was an expert of the sixth grade; certainly of several grades superiority to Kwaiba.[21] The latter's brows knit as his position rapidly became imperilled. Natsume was in a ferment. Fish or wine? If Iemon sought Kwaiba's favour by a preliminary sound thrashing at his favourite game, the prospects of either were small. He dropped his tobacco pipe. In picking it up he gave the buttocks of Iemon a direct and severe pinch. Iemon was too astonished to cry out. His ready mind sought a motive for this unexpected assault and pain. The face of Natsume was unmoved, that of Imaizumi anxious. A glance at Kwaiba's attitude enlightened him. Politeness and a dinner were at stake. Even Natsume and Imaizumi wondered and admired at what followed. The blunder of Iemon was a stroke of genius, the inspiration of an expert player. It was a slight blunder, not obvious to the crudeness of Kwaiba; but it opened up the whole of Iemon's position and put the game in his antagonist's hands. Kwaiba promptly seized the advantage. His triumphant glance shifted continually from Iemon to the onlookers, as the former struggled bravely with a desperate position. Kwaiba won this first game somewhat easily. A second he lost by a bare margin. In the third he scored success in a manner to make evident his superiority over a really expert player. Confident in his championship of the ward, he was all geniality as at the end he sorted and swept back the go stones into their polished boxes. "Go-ishi of Shingu; soft as a woman's hands. But never mind the sex. Now for fish and wine.... However, Hana can serve the liquor for us." To the servant—"Heigh! Some refreshments for the honoured guests; and convey the request of Kwaiba to O'Hana San, to be present."

With the wine appeared O'Hana San. She was a beautiful girl. Of not more than twenty years, on the graceful sloping shoulders was daintily set a head which attracted attention and admiration. The face was a pure oval—of the uri or melon, as the Nipponese class it—with high brow, and was framed in long hair gathered below the waist and reaching nearly to her ankles with its heavy luxuriant mass. She was dressed for the hot season of the year in a light coloured Akashi crape, set off by an obi or broad sash of peach colour in which were woven indistinct and delicate wavy designs. The sleeves, drawn a little back, showed the arms well up to the shoulder. Glimpses of a beautifully moulded neck and bosom appeared from time to time as she moved here and there in her preparation of the service of the wine utensils. The delicate tissue of the dress seemed to caress the somewhat narrow hips of a girlish figure. Every movement was studied and graceful. This O'Hana had belonged to the Fukadaya at Yagura no Shita of Fukagawa. She had been what is known as an obitsuke harlot, wearing the obi in the usual form, without the loose overrobe or shikake of the common women. "In the period of Tempo[u] (1830-1843) all Fukagawa harlots were dressed in this manner." Attracted by her beauty old Kwaiba had ransomed her and made her his concubine. For nearly two years she had held this position in his house. In serving the wine she came to the front and knelt before Iemon as first to receive it. In handing him the tray with the cup she looked into his face. The start on the part of both was obvious. Some of the wine was spilled.

Said Kwaiba—"Then Iemon Uji, you know this woman?" His tone was hard and truculent. It conveyed the suspicion of the jealous old male. Iemon's former profession stood him in good stead. He had a glib tongue, and no intention to deny what had been made perfectly obvious—"It is fact, and nothing to be ashamed of on the part of Iemon; except as to attendant conditions beyond control. I was a diviner on the public highway."—"So 'twas heard," grumbled Kwaiba. "Without customers, and with no use for the diviner's lens but to charr the rafters of the garret in which you lived." Iemon did not care to notice the attack. He merely said—"Deign not to find amusement in what really is a serious matter to one who has to suffer poverty. While seated at the diviner's stand attention was drawn by a girl coming down the Kuramae. Slouching along close by her was a drunken samurai. From time to time he lurched entirely too close to her. Turning unexpectedly her sunshade caught in his haori (cloak), which thereby was slightly torn. At once he flew into a great rage. Laying hands on her he showed no disposition to accept her excuses. 'Careless wench! You have torn my dress. How very impudent of you. Unless you at once accompany me to the tea house close by, to serve the wine and please me, pardon, there is none; be sure of that.' The people had gathered like a black mountain. Nothing was to be seen but heads. O'Hana San was in the greatest embarrassment, unable to free herself from the insults and importunities of the drunken fellow. The samurai was hid under the diviner's garb. Stepping from the stand I interposed in the girl's behalf, making apology, and pointing out the rudeness of his behaviour to the drunkard. Instead of becoming calm he raised his fist and struck me in the face. His condition gave the advantage without use of arms. Locking a leg in his tottering supports I threw him down into the ditch. Then with a word to O'Hana San to flee at once, we disappeared in different directions. The samurai Iemon again became the diviner. That part of his role this Iemon regrets; but a weapon he could not draw in the quarrel. Later on meeting O'Hana San at the Kwannon temple of Asakusa thanks were received, for what was a very trivial service."—"And again renewed," said the beauty, raising her downcast face to look direct into that of Iemon. Said Kwaiba—"Ah! That's the tale, is it? A fortunate encounter, and a strange reunion; but the world is full of such. O'Hana, it comes in most befitting that opportunity is afforded to favour the rescuer with something of greater value than thanks. Pray serve him with wine." Then did Kwaiba take the matter as a man of the world. But he was no fool, "this old tanuki (badger) of a thousand autumns' experience on hill and in dale." He understood very well that between Iemon and O'Hana there had been a closer connection than that of mere accident.



CHAPTER IX

LOVE KNOTS

Many were the visits paid by Iemon to contest at go with Ito[u] Kwaiba. Rapid was the progress of the love affair between a young man and a young woman, both inspired with a consuming passion for each other. In former days—something more than two years before—when Iemon was priest in the Jo[u]shinji of the Reigan district of Fukagawa, and was spending the money of the osho[u] so freely, he had met O'Hana at the Fukagawa of Yagura no Shita. Just entering on her career, she at once captivated him with a permanent passion. It was in her company that the funds of the temple had been cast to the four winds of heaven. His love had been fully reciprocated by O'Hana. The one purpose was to ransom the lady, and then to live together as husband and wife. Such was the engagement plighted between them. However, the ransom figure was large. Iemon—or Kazuma at that time, he dropped his priestly name when out of bounds—had already planned a larger raid than usual on the ecclesiastical treasury. Warned by O'Hana that his operations had been discovered, he had sought safety in flight; not without a last tearful parting with his mistress, and assurance that fate somehow would bring them again together. The engagement thus entered on was to flourish under the new conditions.

As to this pursuit of O'Hana, in which the maiden was coy and willing, the lover circumspect and eager, or at least thought he was, those around the pair were soon well informed; that is, with the exception of the most interested—O'Iwa and Kwaiba. The marked neglect which now ensued O'Iwa took in wifely fashion; and attributing it to some passing attraction of Shinjuku Nakacho[u], she did not take it to heart as she would have done if a concubine had been at issue. As for Kwaiba, the usually astute and prying old man was so immersed in his go as to be struck blind, deaf, and dumb. The matter coming to the ears of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei, the worthy gentleman was seriously alarmed. If true, the old man had indeed reached a parting of the ways, at which he had to satisfy Iemon, Master of Tamiya, O'Iwa, his ward, and Ito[u] Kwaiba, the powerful influence in the daily life of all of them. That night there was a meeting at the house of Kwaiba, a competition in gidayu recitation, dancing, and poetry (uta) making. He presented himself in season at the door of the Tamiya. "Ah! O'Iwa San; and to-night does Iemon join the company at the house of the Kumi-gashira? Rokuro[u]bei comes from Kawagoe, and perhaps is not too late to find company on the road."—"Oya! Is it Kondo[u] Sama? Iya! the Danna has but begun his preparations.... Iemon! The Danna of Yotsuyazaka has come; for company on the way to Ito[u] Sama's house.... Deign to enter. In a short time Iemon will be ready." Kondo[u] looked at her quizzically. There was no sign of distress or misgivings in this quarter. He felt encouraged. Probably the rumour was false or exaggerated; perhaps it was wholly due to the malice of Akiyama Cho[u]zaemon, from whom that day he had heard it.

He turned to greet Iemon, who emerged ready for the street. At the entrance they halted. Said Iemon—"It will be a long drawn-out affair. Deign to retire, and not await the return." Replied O'Iwa—"A small matter. The sound of the Danna's footstep will arouse Iwa to receive him." Iemon laughed. "How so? How distinguish my steps from those of Akiyama San or other constant callers?" Said O'Iwa gravely—"When the wife can no longer distinguish the husband's footstep, then affection has departed. O'Iwa will be ready to receive Iemon, no matter what the hour."—"And, indeed, a late one," put in Kondo[u]. "The party consists mainly of young men. After it they will adjourn to Nakacho[u]. Is it allowed to Iemon Dono to accompany them?" O'Iwa winced a little. "The Master is always master, within and without the house. He will do as he pleases."—"Gently said; like a true wife. Truly such a married pair are rarely to be encountered. They are the mandarin duck and drake of Morokoshi transplanted to Yotsuya. Rokuro[u]bei feels proud of his guardianship." As he and Iemon took their way along the Teramachi, he said—"Iemon is indeed a wonderful man. He is handsome and pursued by the women. O'Iwa undeniably is ugly; yet never is there failure to show her respect and consideration, in private as well as public. One's life here in Yotsuya is open to all the neighbours, and these speak well of Iemon." Said the younger man, in matter of fact tone—"Who could fail toward Iwa? She is amiability itself. Plain, perhaps, but gentleness is the compensating quality, a truer source of household wealth than beauty."—"Well spoken! Deign to keep it in heart, for the neighbours' tongues wag as to Iemon and O'Hana. Malice can cause as much unhappiness as downright wickedness. Besides, Kwaiba is no man to trifle with." Iemon was a little put out and alarmed at the directness of Kondo[u]'s reference. "Be sure there is nothing in such talk. A slight service, rendered in earlier days, makes O'Hana San more cordial to one otherwise a stranger. The excess shown is perhaps to be discouraged. But Ito[u] Dono is good company and has good wine; and besides really is a good go player. It would be loss to shun his house."

Kondo[u] noted a first symptom on their arrival. He spoke sharply to the maid—"Middle age in company with youth plainly finds a poor reception. Is that the master's order? The clogs of Tamiya are not the only ones. Is Rokuro[u]bei to shift for himself?" The girl, all confusion, made profuse apology as she hastened to repair the neglect. Kondo[u] was easily mollified. "Bah! No wonder. Bring Tamiya near a woman, and all is confusion.... But Ito[u] Dono?"—"This way, honoured Sirs: the Danna awaits the guests." They entered the sitting room, to find Kwaiba in a high state of anger and sulks. For some reason, error in transmission or date or other ambiguity, not a man of the guests had appeared. "The supper prepared is next to useless. We four can do but little in its dispatch. Not so with the wine; let every man do double duty here." He hustled around and gave his orders with some excitement; more than cordial with the guests who had not failed him. There was present one Kibei. Iemon had noted with curiosity his first appearance on this ground. What effect was this factor going to have on O'Hana's position in the household. He had been reassured on the physical point. Kibei was exceedingly ugly, a regular mask, and O'Hana was a woman to make much of physical beauty, as well as strength and ruggedness. He was a younger son of Inagaki Sho[u]gen, a hatamoto with a yashiki in Honjo[u] and an income of three thousand koku.[22] It was almost certain that Kwaiba would adopt Kibei. The negotiations had been long continued, and there was some hitch in the matter that Iemon could not make out. What he did realize was Kibei's hostility to himself. A noted fencer, making some sort of a living as teacher of the art, he was the last man with whom Iemon had any desire for a quarrel. Iemon was a coward, and the cold eye of Kibei sent a chill down his spine. Himself, he was always excessively polite in their intercourse.

Limited as to number the party tried to make up for the missing guests by liveliness. There was a dance by Kibei, drinking as substitutes of the absent, and competition in uta (poetry). Handing in his own effort—no mean one—Iemon left the room for a moment. As he came out on the corridor, and was about to return to the guest room, he found the maid O'Moto awaiting him with water and towel. A slight puckering frown came over Iemon's face at this imprudence. Said the girl pleadingly—"Danna Sama, deign to exercise patience. That of the mistress is sorely tried. The absence of the other guests, the pursuit of Kibei Dono, who only seeks to compromise her and secure her expulsion from the house, or even death at the hand of Kwaiba Dono, has driven her well nigh mad. A moment—in this room." Iemon drew back.—"A room apart, and in darkness! The age of seven years once passed, and boy and girl are never to be allowed alone together." He would have refused, but a sudden push and he was within. The sho[u]ji closed at once.

Kwaiba's voice called loudly—"Hana! Hana! What has become of the girl? There is no one to serve the wine. If the ugliness of Kibei drives her to cover, Tamiya's beauty should lure her out. Hana! Hana!" O'Hana slipped hastily from the arms of Iemon. Passing through the garden she entered the kitchen and snatched up a sake bottle from the stove. She did not notice that the fire had gone entirely out. She and Iemon entered the sitting room together, from different sides. Rokuro[u]bei looked sharply at Iemon. Kibei was engaged in hot talk with Kwaiba. Said Kondo[u]—"Where have you been? Pressed by necessity? For such a lapse of time! nonsense! Is rice powder found in such a place? 'Plaster'? It does not leave the mark of a cheek on the sleeve." He laid a warning hand on Iemon, skilfully removing the telltale mark in so doing. "What has happened is clear enough. Fortunately Kwaiba and Kibei have got into a dispute over the merits of Heinai and Sho[u]setsu as fencing masters; both of them dead as the long ago quarrels of the Toyotomi and Tokugawa Houses. Heinai was loyal, and Sho[u]setsu a traitor; but Kibei tries the old man and officer by supporting the prowess of the latter. Besides the sake is cold and Kwaiba at start was in a very bad temper. He has thought for naught but his drink and disappointment. Cajole him by agreeing with him, but don't get into a quarrel with Kibei. He is expert with the sword, has a temper as ugly as his face, and would willingly engage in one. He don't like you...." He stopped. Kwaiba was speaking sharply. He had just taken the fresh bottle. "Cold as a stone! How careless you are."—"Not so," said O'Hana in some surprise. "It has just come off the stove." Kwaiba put the bottle in her hand, to her confusion. "O'Hana must have been asleep; or much engaged, not to note the difference." For the first time he looked sharply at her, then at Iemon. O'Hana often executed great freedom with him—"Asleep! Just so; and no wonder. Without guests the evening has been stupid enough. If Tamiya Sama had brought his wife with him it would have been complete." Kwaiba, Kibei, Kondo[u] smiled at the sally. Iemon took the cue, and chose to resent the words. He said coldly—"O'Iwa certainly brings spice into everything she engages in. Her intelligence is unusual." O'Hana looked at him; then smiled a little, reassured. Passing behind him she stumbled. "Forgotten"—Iemon felt a letter thrust into his hand, which he passed quickly to his sleeve. Then he and Kondo[u] rose to take their leave. The usual salutations followed. As if to compensate for the failure of the entertainment all joined in seeing them depart. Kwaiba was still grumbling and half quarrelling with O'Hana. O'Moto was engaged with Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei. Kibei insisted on aiding Iemon; and Iemon did not dare to refuse his services in donning the haori. As he adjusted the awkward efforts of Kibei on one side, this amateur valet made a mess of it on the other. Besides, neither of them was any too steady on his feet. Then Kondo[u] and Iemon set out in the rain. "Sayonara! Sayonara!"



CHAPTER X

THE PLOT AGAINST O'IWA

The following morning Iemon sat brooding, mind and tongue clouded by the drinking bout of the previous night. O'Iwa silently busied herself with his renovation. Rokuro[u]bei had delivered him over to her, decidedly the worse for wine and wear. He was somewhat astonished at the young man's easy discomfiture. Middle age with the Nipponese usually means the seasoned and steady toper. Regarding the matter as partly due to her own fault, and reassured by Kondo[u] as to the events of the evening, O'Iwa heated the sake with all the greater care, serving it herself, chatting on the indifferent gossip of the neighbourhood. She spoke of the talk current as to Ito[u] Kwaiba's adoption of an heir. "This man Kibei, his disposition appears to be as ugly as his face." With a little smile she added, "for the latter compensation is to be found in the first-named quality; a truth which he seems to disregard. What will become of O'Hana San?" For the first time since the night before the thought of the letter flashed into Iemon's mind. He put down the renovating morning draft, and on some excuse arose. His kimono lay neatly folded in the hirabuta (flat tray). Hastily he searched the sleeves. There was not a sign of the missive. With clouded brow he returned to the sitting room. A glance at O'Iwa made him feel ashamed. It had never come into her hands. He knew her well enough to be assured that he would have found it, scrupulously laid together with the tobacco pouch, nose wipe (hanagami), and divers other minor articles of daily use carried on the person. The whole affair perhaps was a dream. The more he considered, the more he became so convinced. His transports with O'Hana, their surprise, Kondo[u]'s rebuke—so far the evening was tolerably clear. It was only as to the final cups, the rising to depart, the standing in the cold night air, that the exact course of events became clouded. "Ah! It was all a vision. O'Hana never would have been so imprudent." There was a trace of doubt in his mind. He would clear it up at the fountain source—at Kwaiba's house and by the lips of O'Hana.

Kwaiba greeted him with almost boisterous cheerfulness. "Ah! Tamiya comes early; a flattering acknowledgment of last night's reception." To Iemon's deprecatory speech and apology—"Don't talk folly, after the manner of a country boor. Iemon San is a man of the world; and will give this Kwaiba credit for being the same. What does it amount to? A matter of a little too much wine.... Hana! Hana! The Master of Tamiya is present. Cut some bean paste, and bring tea. Heat the wine. Matazaemon was so sober an old dog that it is doubtful whether O'Iwa knows aught about the best remedy for past drinking." As Kibei entered—"There is the inventory of the Shimosa farms. Condescend to take a glance at the report of the nanushi (bailiff). Hana will aid." Thus dismissed, the two left the room. Kwaiba turned to Iemon—"A draught: no? Then Kwaiba will drink for both. For him it is a day of rejoicing. The coming of Tamiya is opportune. It was intended to send for him. Deign to aid this Kwaiba with counsel. The adoption of Kibei has finally been settled." The old man's exultation influenced even the indifference of Iemon's aching head. With well-simulated interest he said—"Naruhodo! Kibei Dono is indeed to be congratulated. As to our chief, since everything is to his satisfaction, Iemon is but too glad to speak his pleasure, to offer his congratulations."—"Nay! A little more than that, Iemon Uji. This Kwaiba would seek his aid in another matter of importance. Kwaiba is old. A woman no longer is an object to him. He cannot make a child. If O'Hana should give birth to a child great would be the discomfiture, knowing the truth. What is to be done in such a case?" He now was looking with direct inquiry into the face of Iemon. The latter was much confused. He stammered—"Just so: so indeed. O'Hana San is truly an embarrassment. Doubtless she is also an obstacle to Kibei Dono. She...." Sneered Kwaiba—"Tamiya, though young, is wise. He grasps the situation at once. Deign, Iemon San, to take O'Hana yourself." Kwaiba raised his voice a little. Kibei brought O'Hana with him from the next room. She seemed alarmed and embarrassed. Said Kwaiba—"What have you there; the inventory? Ah! A letter: and there is no one to read a letter like Iemon San. Deign, Sir, to favour us. Iemon San alone can give the contents the proper inflection." He handed it to Iemon. A glance showed the latter that it was a letter from O'Hana, probably that of the previous night. His pocket had been neatly picked by Kibei. It was plain. He had been trapped. The pretended entertainment had been a plot in which the passion of O'Hana had been given full chance to range. Even the disinterested witness, the old fool Kondo[u], had been provided. He caught a curious, mocking smile on the face of the girl O'Moto, just then passing along the ro[u]ka.

Kwaiba allowed the silence to become oppressive. He seemed to await an incriminating outburst on the part of O'Hana, plainly on the verge of tears. However, the girl caught herself up. Instead she turned a calm, inquiring look toward the three men. Iemon alone looked down, his gaze on the letter the characters of which danced and waved before his eyes. Sharp as he ordinarily was, before this vigorous and astute old man, backed by the ruffianly prospective son with impertinent smile, the cowardice of Iemon deprived him of all spirit. His faculties were numbed. Kwaiba leaned over and removed the letter from his hands. "Since Iemon San will not read the letter, Kwaiba will try to do so; a poor substitute for the accomplished cleric." The old fellow seemed to know everything, as the tone of contempt indicated. He ran the scroll out in his hands—"Naruhodo! Ma! Ma! What's this? From some woman: a lascivious jade indeed!... Eh! Kibei Dono, apology is due your ears. This Kwaiba laughed at your suspicions." He threw down the scroll, as in a fury. Kibei picked it up. He began to read:

"Night is the source of pleasure, but greater that pleasure at sight of Iemon. The day comes when Iemon and Hana will be husband and wife, in fact if not in form. 'Ah! Day and night to be at the service of Iemon.' Thus does Hana pray gods and Buddhas. When distant from his side, even though the time be short, painful is its passage. Place this letter next to your very person. May that night come quickly, when the coming of Iemon is awaited. The connection with O'Iwa San is the punishment for sin committed in a previous existence. Condescend to dismiss her from your mind. View the matter wholly in this light. The spiteful brush (pen) refuses further service. Hard, hard, is the lot of this Hana. The honoured Master comes; the heartfelt wish is accomplished.

With compliments,

To Iemon Sama." HANA.

Kwaiba's rage grew and grew with the reading. At Iemon'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. Iemon shall take Hana home—as wife."—"As wife!" Iemon broke through his fear. "Surely the honoured Kashira is unreasonable. This Iemon 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 Matazaemon this Kwaiba has a grudge—as yet unsatisfied. Through O'Iwa San this shall be paid. With Iemon 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 Ojo[u]san. And she loves Iemon! In our feasts Natsume and Imaizumi get the skin of the omelet; Iemon 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 Kondo[u], just in the nick of time. Rokuro[u]bei, aid us with your experience and influence. Aid us with Iemon, who would cleave to the O'Bake."

Put in possession of the facts Kondo[u] 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 Iemon 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 Rokuro[u]bei interfered. Iemon'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 Samoncho[u] for that purpose. Said Rokuro[u]bei—"What difficulty does the matter present? Set on Watanabe Goro[u] 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 Iemon, O'Iwa is driven out as unchaste. This Kondo[u] 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 Watanabe is to suffer injury."

Kibei laughed outright at the idea of a drawn sword in Iemon's hand. Iemon turned the contempt on to Kondo[u]. Sneering, he replied—"The plan is worthless. O'Iwa is chastity itself. In the absence of this Iemon no man is allowed entrance to the house." Kwaiba knitted his brows—"Kakusuke! Kakusuke!" As the chu[u]gen appeared—"Go yonder to the house of Akiyama Cho[u]zaemon San. Say that the Kumi-gashira would speak with Akiyama San." As the man departed—"Cho[u]zaemon 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 Iemon 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 Iemon and the fright of O'Hana. But not for long. Akiyama Cho[u]zaemon, 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 chu[u]gen Kakusuke close behind. The latter seemed a sort of policeman attending the none-too-willing Cho[u]zaemon. The latter's brow lightened at sight of the company. He owed Kwaiba money. Sending away the servant, Kwaiba unfolded the situation. Said Cho[u]zaemon—"Heigh! Tamiya takes the cast off leman of Ito[u] Dono. Fair exchange is no robbery; Kibei Uji against O'Hana San. Iemon 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 Cho[u]zaemon'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 Iemon, he was grateful to Cho[u]zaemon; as neighbour, and for the insult to Kibei and Kwaiba.