CHAPTER XXV

CHU[U]DAYU WINS HIS SUIT

Chu[u]dayu's legs bent under him. "Ah! My lord! O'Kiku grasps my neck!" A cold hand laid upon him he shrieked in fear. Shu[u]zen turned--"Fool! 'Tis a clod of snow from the tree above, fallen on your collar. Off with you to bed. Truly in these days such fellows are good for nothing." Off he strode to the _ro[u]ka_. For a moment he looked out--on the heavy flakes coming down like cotton wadding, at the figure of Chu[u]dayu staggering like a drunken man to his quarters. With a laugh he closed the _amado_, seated himself before the heated wine. Yet the woman would not get out of his thoughts. "What a fool! A matter of no import would have given her position with others and influence with this Shu[u]zen.... Ha! Ha! How frightened was Chu[u]dayu! It is not the shadowy fingers of the dead which do good or ill, but the flesh clad muscles of the living. As to your ghosts...." He snapped his fingers and drank wine in derision. Thus he spent the early hours of the night.

"What's that!" He put the bottle down at the sound of voices in excitement, of running feet. Soon an officer appeared. The _okugata_ was threatened with premature delivery. A physician was to be had at once. Shu[u]zen shrugged his shoulders with indifference. Five months--seven months--nine months--what a matter to trouble a man with! So angry was he that they dared not tell him more. Matters were going very badly with her ladyship. In her delirium she raved over the past scene of the punishment. The tortures of this present delivery were added to an hundred fold by the disorders of the over-wrought brain. Then the child was born. The assembled women whispered to each other. A very monster had seen light: perfect in its main parts, but with the face of Emma Dai-O[u] as a foetus--with the fingers lacking on the hands. They dared not let the sick woman see it. She detected their confusion, asked to see the child. She grew more and more excited with refusal, and they were at a loss what to do. Finally the child was brought, to her distress and confusion. Then--as from the ceiling--"Shame on the House of Aoyama Shu[u]zen. A maimed child, a monster is born as its issue." And the voice began to count, followed by the moving lips of her ladyship--"One"--"One"--"Two"--"Two"--"Three"--"Three"--monotonously it went on to--"Nine.... Ah! What shall I do! One is missing. Wa! Wa!" So lamentable the crying voice that a chill went to the hearts of all. Again the count went on; again the failure and the lamentable cry and weeping. Her ladyship sat up. They strove to restrain her, but in her madness she shouted back in answer to the counting--"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.... Ha! One is missing! Vile slut! Thus to maim the child in malice." She raved and tore at the covering. From the disordered hair streaming around face and bust looked out at them the wan face of O'Kiku. In disorder the women fled. Driven back by the necessity of their duty they found her lying dead in a pool of blood. As for the maimed and deformed monster, he took well to the nurse's breast. Such they always do.

Where was Chu[u]dayu in all this confusion? Shu[u]zen had men hunting him high and low. Angered at his absence, his own dislike and suspicion of him as possible rival grew with the night and the hours, rendered bitter by these household scenes. He would settle matters with Chu[u]dayu. "Yokubei" he had heard him called; and covetousness turns not only to gold and such like. As fact Chu[u]dayu had good excuse for absence. Much out of sorts he had betaken himself to his own rooms and the care of the old woman in charge, his only female companion in lieu of wife. Ah! What weather! The snow changed to sleet and rain drove into and chilled to the marrow those out in the storm. The _baya_ (old woman) at his entrance was all astonishment--"Danna Sama! The garments are wet through. Condescend at once to make a change." Gruffly Chu[u]dayu accepted her aid. Stripping off first one and then another of the outer garments he too grumbled in his turn--"What a fool the woman was! To lose life against the sacrifice of such a trifling thing. Ah! She was a maddening beauty; of the kind to drive the blood to boiling heat. Never again.... What's that?" Pon-pon: the sound of someone knocking ashes from a pipe into the receiver came from the inner room. The _baya_ was laughing--"Ha! Ah! The Danna Sama is a sly one. He is the one to make friends with the beauties. The lady regretted the Danna's absence, said that she would wait the honoured return.... Who? 'Tis she so sought by the Tono Sama himself; and who instead favours the Danna. O'Kiku Dono...." Before the wild stare of Chu[u]dayu, the clutch on her wrist, the old woman stopped in fright. Then from within came the counting--"One, two, three, four, five"--"Six," Chu[u]dayu mechanically joined in. "Seven"--"Seven"--"Eight"--"Eight"--"Nine"--"Nine"--the words were followed by the chilling lamentable wail of a soul in agony. "What shall I do! What shall I do!" With a yell Chu[u]dayu dashed to the _sho[u]ji_ and threw them back. No one! With astonishment and terror the old woman gazed at him as seeking an explanation which did not come. "The lights in the Butsudan! Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu! Praise to Amida, the Lord Buddha!... Wine! Wine, and much of it; very hot!"

He sat, his head in hands, watching the flickering light in the altar stand. "Ha! 'A woman and a man of small comprehension: these are hard to govern.' Ko[u]shi (Confucius) says it. This Chu[u]dayu has played the fool to the Tono Sama's extravagances." The bell of Gekkeiji began to strike the hour of the watch. It came clear and mournful across the snow. "How like a woman's nature," says the native scribe. "One"--"One"--"Two"--"Two"--"Three"--"Three." ... Chu[u]dayu went on, mechanically following the blows hammered into his brain. Then came the heart rending hopeless wail which chilled his very soul. The old woman in amazement and pain gave a howl as the hot wine ran over hands and fingers. Chu[u]dayu on his feet stupidly gazed at the bottle rolling to the end of the room. "'Tis of no import," he muttered. "Now--to get hence. Close up all. To-night Chu[u]dayu returns not."--"But Danna Sama! Condescend to consider! The Danna Sama is not himself. Truly he will be ill. Deign the honoured couch." The couch in that room! He shuddered all over. The old woman wrung and wiped her scalded fingers, and would persuade him to seek rest. She simpered in her blandishment. "Where could she possibly have gone, for _baya_ saw no exit? Perhaps the lady comes again; and in the _yashiki_ there is no greater beauty than O'Kiku Dono. Fortunate the Danna...." Truly she thought him gone mad. "Shut up!" roared Chu[u]dayu. His eyes blazing under the heat of the quantity of his hot stimulant he thrust her, a heap huddled into a corner of the room. Trembling hands adjusted what garments he could lay eyes upon. Over all he threw a long wool cloak with hood and eyelets against the snow. Turning to the entrance he glowered at her, hand on his dagger--"More words of that vile jade, and _baya_ joins her own beneath the stone. This Chu[u]dayu goes to Nakacho[u], to a public woman. If that O'Baké comes again.... Ha! Ha!... Let her lie with Baya.... Why! She's not even rotten yet!" He left the old woman stupefied and quaking, himself to leap out into the storm and darkness.

Outside the gate he had a shock. In the shadow he ran into a woman standing by, who turned at his greeting. O'Kiku's face? With clenched fist he would have struck, but the vision faded. "Truly the _baya_ is not wrong. Chu[u]dayu is mad, or drunk." His knuckles had near encounter with the brazen crest fastened into the post. This brought him to himself. Rapid was his descent of Gomizaka. At its foot was a _kago_ stand. "The Danna Sama from the Aoyama _yashiki_--he condescends the _kago_. One all closed? The Danna Sama will lie as snug as in a _koshi_ (_kwanoké_ = hearse)." Chu[u]dayu took the joke badly. The fellow sprawled on the ground under the blow--"Is this a funeral procession? Truly the night itself is bad enough--without the joke."--"A scurvy knave," humbly explained the _kago_ chief. "A country recruit, just to hand. Deign to pardon his impertinence." He edged the fellow off, called up another man--"The Danna stands not on the fare? Truly 'tis such a night as rarely has been seen. With wind and sleet the men can barely stand. But the Danna is in haste. Surely a woman is at the journey's end.... Not a palanquin but with mats." Chu[u]dayu was neatly bundled into the litter. The mats were lowered at the sides and covered with oiled paper. "To Nakanocho[u]; and at good round pace." He hardly heard the functionary's words. "Ah! How she hated this Chu[u]dayu! How she glared into the Tono Sama's eyes as he dealt the blow into her pap!... A vicious jade; yet a beauty. Where could such beauty be encountered? May the _kami_ (gods) grant Chu[u]dayu the same good fortune this night!" More pleasing vision soothed him. He was filled with hot wine and fast grew dazed and sleepy. The gentle motion of the _kago_ rocked him as in a cradle. Yet he could not get sleep. Her voice was in his ears; without, in talk with the _kago_ men? He raised a corner of the mat. With surprise--"Heigh, _kagoya_! What place is this?" He was passing the moat on his right not left; the hill sloped down, not up toward Nakano (Shinjuku). "Danna Sama, it is Suido[u]bashi."--"Suido[u]bashi! And does one go to Nakanocho[u] by Suido[u]bashi? Knaves! About with you, and to the right course as directed."

The men, after their kind, grumbled; but to themselves; and in a way their fare should hear. "Naruhodo! What a beast of a night is this! Mate, it is to Nakanocho[u]; but Nakanocho[u] whither? The Danna Sama is testy. He is not to be questioned. He might give a cut. Jubei is lucky. He has changed head for rear. A care there! A care there! What? Again around? What a night, and what a Danna to deal with!" The unconscious Chu[u]dayu was borne onward. Again the vinous fumes passed off. To his amazement be saw the water on the left; but not what he sought. "Heigh! Heigh! _Kago_ men, whither now? What place yonder?"--"Yanagibara, Danna Sama." Chu[u]dayu's voice was big with wrath. "True _kago_ men as guides! Does one go to Yanagibara to go to Nakanocho[u] of Shinjuku."--"Oya! Oya! The Danna always tells us to go this way, that way. Nakanocho[u], Nakacho[u]--is it Yoshiwara, or Fukagawa, or Naito[u] Shinjuku to which the Danna goes? 'Tis but the lady at the pole who has a clear head and forces us to go this way.... Danna, never mind the fare money. Condescend to alight. It is a hard night; too hard for such a baffling task.... Here is your pretty friend again!"

Chu[u]dayu raised the mat and looked out. Vaguely outlined in the again whirling snowy darkness stood O'Kiku. With wild cry he sprang out, sword drawn. The _kago_ men dropped the litter and took to their heels. Dazed Chu[u]dayu looked around him. Ah! He was drunk with wine, and visions haunted him. Yanagibara? Let it be Yoshiwara then. Stalking through the O[u]mon he made his way to the Nagatoya, a tea house at which he was known. "Oya! The honoured Danna Sama of the Bancho[u] _yashiki_. In good season Aikawa Dono; the lady awaits the honoured _buké-sama_."--"A lady waiting? Fool! Who brings a woman to this market where he comes to purchase?" The _banto[u]_ (clerk) of the tea house insisted. "Aikawa Sama, is it not fact? She is barely of twenty years; outstripping in beauty the greatest of the Go Tayu.... Her name? O'Kiku San...." In his amazement the man rose from his kneeling salutation, craned his neck to watch the flying figure of Chu[u]dayu disappear. Perhaps the Danna had gone mad. Surely he was mad; and not one to come on foot on such a night and all the way from the Bancho[u]. He sighed at loss of such an eager customer.

Chu[u]dayu walked into the first tea house to hand when he had stopped for breath. A first visit, his tea money (_chadai_) was munificent. Such a customer deserved good treatment from the Izuzuya. Hence the attendant guided him to the Miuraya, where was bespoken the presence of the brilliant _oiran_ O'Yodo. The hour was late. The _oiran_ was detained. Chu[u]dayu was sleepy and demanded his room. Hardly had he taken to his couch to await her presence than he was asleep. Leaving her other guest O'Yodo pushed open the _sho[u]ji_ and entered. She deserved her reputation for beauty. A splendid girl, for she was not more than woman yet. A little tall for her sex; fair and with but little powder, an oval face, long trailing hair, and shapely hands and feet for all this business. _Batan-batan_ the sound of the _zo[u]ri_ (sandals). She dropped these on the outside. The stranger was asleep. Sitting beside him she gathered the folds of her crape night robe about her bare feet. With a deft touch she adjusted the knot of the pink sash which confined it; then turned attention to the long silver chased pipe and the face of the sleeping man. Some feeling was aroused she could not understand. There was much she did not yet understand in this bitter toil of hers.

Chu[u]dayu began to speak; at first in halting and broken sentences; then in a continued flood--"Ah! Ha! That look of hate! Chu[u]dayu acted most foully. 'Twas he who took the plate, to secure his safety and O'Kiku's death. Deign to pardon. It was not Chu[u]dayu; 'twas the Tono Sama who dealt the fatal blow.... What? The suffering?... Ah! But the suffering of mind.... Now she begins--one--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine.... Kiya!" The shriek rang through the room, bringing O'Yodo to her feet. Crouched beside the _andon_ was outlined vaguely the figure of her sister O'Kiku. "Ne[e]san! Here! And what...." At the words she turned to meet the wide open frighted gaze of Chu[u]dayu. The matter of fact, gentle tones calmed him. "A first meeting with the honoured guest. Deign to pardon the awkwardness of Yodo." Chu[u]dayu came out of his sleep reassured. He had dreamed; a frightful dream. She told him so, and pressed him curiously as to why he had called out. "The honoured _samurai_ (_buké-sama_), who then favours Yodo?" He spoke, as being again himself--the military man, and no less a person than the chamberlain of Aoyama Shu[u]zen Sama, _hatamoto_ with a _yashiki_ in the Bancho[u]. "Perhaps then a serving maid called O'Kiku is known to the honoured sir." Again Chu[u]dayu's doubts were raised at evident resemblance--to be reassured. "No kin: we knew each other well in early life. The father was a great criminal, and O'Kiku, it was heard, was condemned to be a slave for life. Entered in this business nothing has been seen of each other. She is well--in mind and body?" The question was timid, and Chu[u]dayu did not notice the unnatural eagerness. "In Kiku's place mind and body are assured their lot; to undergo no change." Captivated by this beauty he was now eager for his good fortune. Reluctant and with misgiving she allowed him to draw her close.