Chapter 7

THE _Bakémono Yashiki_

Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon heard the report of his officer. A slight frown puckered his brow, and he contemplated the big toe of his immaculately white _tabi_ (sock). "A vexatious matter! _Hatamoto_ of the land, official duty gives occupation enough. Yet for such things to take place, and so close to the person of the suzerain, this is not to be permitted. Beyond his love for wine Rokuzo has shown himself trustworthy. He is not lying?" Kyu[u]saburo[u] bowed low--"As your lordship says. Of his illness there is no question; and that not merely from a drunken debauch. Rokuzo is not one to be tempted by women; and to those beyond his station he dares not raise his eyes. It was the wine which tempted him beyond discretion. He has tried all patience, been most disloyal. The honoured dismissal or severe punishment at the least is his due. The Tono Sama summoning him to the garden front, and deigning the kindness of putting him to death (_te-uchi_) ... yet...." Hesitating he brought out the once _hana-furi-kin_, wage of the unfortunate Rokuzo, now in such danger of drastic remedy for his aching head. Respectfully pushing forward a knee the _kyu[u]nin_ presented it to his lord. Saburo[u]zaémon examined it with much curiosity. "And this?"--"The wage for his porter's work," answered the officer, his face respectfully wrinkled with the trace of a smile. "Though one could say from his exhaustion that he received other favour than coin. The very thought of his filthy repast drives the rascal to most fearful retchings. He is in a parlous way, and if your lordship deign forbearance...."--"Heigh!" He was interrupted by the exclamation of Saburo[u]zaémon, now examining the leaf most intently. "I say now! An oak leaf, the broad reminder of the _kiri_ (paulownia imperialis), such might come from last year's fall. This leaf never sprang from Nippon's soil."--"Just so," replied the _kyu[u]nin_. "Hence petition for delay in administering punishment."--"And of course the fellow is useless. Ill, and besides he knows not whither he went, and came to himself on the Ichimenhara."--"Yet, while still in his five senses, he recognized Go Bancho[u]; and it is fact that the _chu[u]gen_ of Okumura Dono suffered likewise in the Bancho[u]."--"Of Kakunai and the strange horse this Saburo[u]zaémon has heard. And the other man?"--"One Isuké, a stout fellow, but in good fortune the twin brother of this rascal Rokuzo."

Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon rose to his feet with an elasticity and snap denoting decision. His wife standing close by laid hand upon his arm. He turned to meet her frightened questioning look. He spoke reassuringly. "Don't be afraid. Such things so near the suzerain's honoured dwelling are not to be permitted. This Saburo[u]zaémon goes to learn the facts as to this suspicious house. The _samurai_ has no fear of apparitions; and less of thieves, as is likely to be the case. Let the rascals look to themselves if they would avoid the taste of Saburo[u]zaémon's sword. Kyu[u]saburo[u] is to see that the _Yashiki_ is well guarded. To-night O[u]kubo Hikoroku Dono holds the fire ward. The occasion fits." At once he was busied with his preparations for out door service. His wife, granddaughter of old Nagasaki Chiyari Kuro[u]--he of the "bloody spear"--was the _samurai_ woman, to aid her lord in his duty, not to hold him back with tears and plaints. The pair were admirable specimens of their caste. Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon's grand-father had been a retainer of that hard hitting Asai Nagamasa who had to bow the head before the sword of Hidéyoshi. The son Kiémon perforce had served the Taiko[u], and well. It was with more than readiness that he had appeared in the army of the Tokugawa at Sekigahara, to be killed in all loyalty before O[u]saka in Genwa 1st year (1618). Saburo[u]zaémon was then but five years old. But the early Tokugawa did not forget loyal service. When of age he was summoned to Edo from his native province of O[u]mi, given duty in the palace service, to become with years a _hatamato_ with income of four hundred _koku_ and a _yashiki_ in Ichigaya, just beyond the Gomon or great gate at the outer moat.

In the present matter night must be awaited. When the bell of the Gekkeiji, the huge temple of the district, struck the watch of the pig (9-11 P.M.) Endo[u] prepared to set forth. "In case of necessity ask the aid of Hikoroku Dono, of Juro[u]zaémon."[4] This to his wife. "At least one attendant? Kyu[u]saburo[u] is old enough to know that these rascals never deal with more than one human." This to the old _kyu[u]nin_, who with anxiety watched him depart into the darkness. With a sigh the officer shut fast the outer gate. Then, sword over his knees, he squatted himself at the house entrance, to slumber and await his lord's return.

As officer of the fire ward Saburo[u]zaémon met with little difficulty in passing the Ichigaya gate, beyond which lay the suspected district of the Bancho[u]. To the sharp hail and protest at his appearance without a lantern he sought the service of those of the guard. Surprise and abject apology followed the bringing of face and equipment into their light. As on urgent mission to the palace he explained the one and disregarded the other. For form he borrowed a lantern at the guard house, to leave it in a hedge close by, to hand for his return if in the darkness. Straight ahead he walked for some distance. Now he was in the very centre of the Bancho[u]. It was a most lonely place. The district had been set apart for the _yashiki_ of _hatamoto_ and the houses of _gokenin_ who showed no haste to apply for its ample space. Its highways and byways showed lines of bamboo fences, plaster walls, broken at intervals by gates. Between the far _yashiki_ there was much waste land. Suspicious were its precincts in these days when the haunting spirits and apparitions, attendant on once owners and their wars, were being driven out by the advent and aggression of the new lords from the South. Still fresh in men's minds was the wondrous _mami-ana_ of Azabu--the cave of the _tanuki_ (badger)--with the implied curse on the Tokugawa. The cohorts of apparitions, driven northward to the land of savages, had suffered severely at the hands of Ii Naomasa on the banks of the Ueno Toshima ferry. Thus the curse came down the centuries on the Tokugawa House.

Once in the heart of the district Saburo[u]zaémon stood uncertain. All sense of locality was lost. The Bancho[u] by day and by night greatly differed. The wind sighed through the great pine trees and whispered in the long _suzuki_ grass. He thought to reach the neighbourhood of the Gomizaka. The noise and bustle of the Ko[u]jimachi would give direction. Just then a lantern came in sight at the turning in the lane. As it drew near it was seen that to all appearance the bearer was a _chu[u]gen_. Endo[u] drew back into the shadow. He would take a good look at him. He allowed the man to pass. Then from behind--"Heigh! Wait!" Instead of waiting the fellow took to his heels. Endo[u] pursued and soon caught him. In terror the fellow sank on his knees before the two sworded man. "Deign, honoured sir, to spare the cutting test. This Isuké is yet young. He loves life. Condescend not to cut short his breath." Saburo[u]zaémon was struck by the name fresh to his ears. Coldly he looked the man over; played on his terror--"Yet you are fat; just of the girth to give fair test to a new blade."--"Nay! Your lordship can deign to observe it. Isuké is stuffed out with a recent meal. It would be but a case of tripes. His bones are young and soft, his muscles wasted by mere feeding. It would be as cutting _to[u]fu_ (bean paste). Deign to spare him."

Said Saburo[u]zaémon. "'Tis no cutting test. Thus passing carelessly at the side that fat paunch was an easy mark. Be more careful henceforth.... You live hereabouts?"--"Honoured Sir, 'tis so. Isuké is _chu[u]gen_ at the _yashiki_ of Okumura Sama."--"Ah! Then you know the haunted house (_bakémono yashiki_) of the Bancho[u]."--"Just beyond? Isuké knows it too well."--"Life spared, act as guide thither." The man's knees bent under him. He plead for forbearance. Plainly he must die. Only to this dreadful sentence and sight of Endo[u]'s sword did he yield. Reluctantly he went ahead of the _samurai_, as far as a gate the massiveness of which attracted attention. Saburo[u]zaémon looked it over, then carefully considered his guide. He held out a coin. The fellow respectfully drew back. Said Endo[u] with impatience--"As lord of this mansion the money of guidance is offered. Accept it without question. Here lies my purpose." This was but addition to obvious terror. With wabbling knees the fellow persisted in refusal. "Honoured lord, deign forbearance. Already has this Isuké accepted entertainment here, with fearful results; nearly quaffing the waters of the Yellow Fountain in Meido." Said Saburo[u]zaémon sourly--"What has the purpose to do with a low fellow's entertainment? Take the coin, and be off with you. Darkness acts as screen." The man did but whimper, "With purpose in hand: truly darkness the screen, upside down; the balsam an incense, the sticks to hand in the clay dishes. This? 'Twill turn out but the leaf of a tree, to bring sorrow on Isuké. Your lordship has said it."--"It is good coin," replied Endo[u] briefly. Then with some curiosity--"But what has a tree leaf to do with purpose?"--"Pine leaves denote purpose, and are so named."[5]--"A clever fellow after all! No wonder he escaped.... But be off with you. The coin shall ring true with daylight. So much is promised on the word of a _samurai_. Fear the living man, not the inanimate object; and say nothing of meeting the donor. Otherwise Isuké ends badly. Now--off with you!" The voice was very human, the peremptory gesture surely that of a two sworded man. The _chu[u]gen_ took confidence in the fact that he could not help himself. Whatever doubts he possessed, these he kept with the coin in his bosom. With scant thanks cut short by fear he obeyed the order to depart into the shades. Gathering impetus with distance he fairly took to his heels.

Saburo[u]zaémon waited for the lantern to disappear. Then he turned to inspect the gate. There was no entrance through its solidity. It was a _yashiki mon_, almost house, with two posterns. He must get a look within. A long high plaster wall ran on both sides into the distance. The moonlight, flooding the scene, showed him a breach opened by long neglect. Once within he felt convinced that he was on the scene of Rokuzo's experience. But the pine grove was anything but swept clean. Branches torn off by storm and wind, fallen trees, lay scattered everywhere. It was a very winding course which took him to the eaves of the building some distance off. Plainly the once occupant had been a person of position, perhaps a minor _daimyo[u]_. At the corner of the structure he found himself in the garden more particularly attached to the house. An exclamation of regret at sight of such desolation came to the lips of Saburo[u]zaémon. A master hand had laid out this beautiful piece of work; but trees and plants, no longer trained and trimmed by man's hand, had run wild. In the centre was a wide well curb rising some three feet from the ground. A single stone step allowed easier access for those drawing water. The well-sweep had rotted off and lay upon the ground. There was no bucket. Saburo[u]zaémon leaned over. From the still surface of the water came an indefinable putrescent odour, perhaps from the decaying plants, or refuse blown into the depths. He drew away, disgusted and convinced. Carefully he made the round of this pleasaunce. At the bottom of the garden near the confines of the well, was an artificial mound--a _tsukiyama_ or moon viewing hill. Before this was a little lake, for fish and lotus, of perhaps a couple of hundred feet in length by narrow width. In places he could jump across it; and elsewhere stepping stones offered passage. An Inari shrine in a plum grove offered no particular interest, beyond recent inclosure showing a neighbour's hand. There was swampy ground for the _shobu_ or iris and beds of peony plants. In front of the line of towering pines was a row of Yoshino cherry trees, all broken and neglected. The one time owner had loved flowers. Endo[u] turned to the house.

The moon was pouring full on the closed _amado_ (rain doors), its cold silver globe lighting up the scene. "Solitary is the moon of winter glorious that of autumn." This was the tranquil moon of summer, pacifying yet saddening men's hearts, as does all moonlight. It was plain there was no entrance on this side of the house, unless unseemly force was used. This was unnecessary. Endo[u] noticed the lattice work of the bath-room. A few strokes of his dagger, and the frame was lifted out. Then it was easy to draw back the heavy wooden panels and allow the moonlight to flood these exposed chambers. Carefully he scanned his immediate surroundings. The paper of the _sho[u]ji_ was torn and eaten by the rats. In places the frayed _tatami_ (mats) bent under his feet, evidence of decay of the supporting floor. There was the mouldy damp smell common to places long closed to the freedom of the outer air. It sent a chill to the bone; which Endo[u] noted with surprise as he turned to the dark inner rooms. He must have some kind of light. Almost the first step into the semi-obscurity offered the means to hand. Stumbling over an object at his feet he picked up a staff. On examination it proved to be one of those _kongo_ canes, the support to feet and belly of the devout in their long pilgrimages, sign manual of the pious intent of the bearer. He had taken a candle from his pocket, and, with small respect to the "six worlds" of its rings, used the spiked end to improvise a torch. Then an unexpected voice caught his ear; a sad, wailing cry which chilled the heart. Then followed low, rapid, disorderly speech, the meaning of which rendered indistinct by distance could not be made out. Then came the unearthly startling shriek which rang through the whole mansion.

Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon now had his torch fastened and blazing. Loosing his sword in the scabbard promptly he set forth into the darkness beyond. The candle cast a feeble light, making the darkness still more apparent. However, he could see the splendour of these once inhabited rooms. Screens worked in silk were dirty and frayed, but they were by master hands, and still showed the outlines of beautiful designing. The _rama-sho[u]ji_--the fret work between the rooms--was broken in places, yet it displayed the erratic course of Nature's handiwork, the most bizarre and effective of all. And always just before him went the shuffling drag of sandals--as of some one on the _ro[u]ka_, further on, at the room beyond. He sprang forward in haste, to fling back the closed screens, but still the object eluded him; always there, yet never seen. Thus it led him from room to room--reception rooms, sitting rooms, the women's apartments; all gorgeous, all unfurnished, not a single object of the value to tempt stray visitor or intentional thief. Even the kitchen was stripped bare of equipment. Not even the stones to support the furnace had been left. Thieves, or others, had long since accounted for all movables.

Dumbfounded Saburo[u]zaémon stood at the foot of the stairway. Patter, patter the footsteps had led him to this point. The width was coated thickly with dust, swept by breezes from without, and from the disintegrating plaster (_kabé_) walls. The webs of spiders were woven across it; across the aperture. Yet--again came the wild sounds of riot above. This time the voices were distinct and close at hand. A woman was struggling, pleading under torture. "Alas! Alas! Deign to show pity. What has been the offence, thus to inflict punishment. Condescend the honoured pity. Ah! Pardon there is none. The child is consigned from the darkness of the womb to the darkness of death. Alas! Most harsh and unkind! How avoid the eternal grudge? Unending the hate of...." The voice, like to the sharp rending of silk, ended in the fearful shriek, chilling, heart rending, paralysing even the stout heart of Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon. "Ki-i-i!" There followed the ineffectual gurgling wailing cries of one struggling for breath. Drawn sword in hand Saburo[u]zaémon sprang up the stairway. Nothing! The _amado_ thrown back in haste light enough was given to show the emptiness of the room. Still the voice was heard. He passed beyond. As before--nothing; except the voice, now plain, as at his very side.

Saburo[u]zaémon was now assured of some witchery. "This is Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon Takékiyo, _hatamoto_ of the land. Whoever, or whatever, be present, assume the proper shape. Fox or _tanuki_ (badger), strip off all disguise; stand to the test of Saburo[u]zaémon's blade." But the sad wailing voice made answer--"Unkind the words of Endo[u] Sama. This is no trick of fox or badger. Meeting an untimely end, the Spirit now wanders as an unworshipped demon; as one deprived of all honour in the grave. Brave has been the deed of Endo[u] Dono. Others have come; to depart in fright. He alone stays to challenge. For so much, thanks. Deign worship to my spirit, the security of rest from its wanderings." Saburo[u]zaémon in amazement looked around. The voice was clearly heard, and close to him; yet naught was to be seen. "Whoever you be, if wronged the sword of Saburo[u]zaémon is here to avenge the wrong. If in life, the perpetrator shall pay the penalty of the misdeed; yourself shall secure worship. Such is the office of a _bushi_--to aid the helpless. But cannot the shape be seen? Why this concealment from the eyes of Saburo[u]zaémon?" And the voice made answer--"Has Endo[u] Sama no eyes? Concentrate the thoughts. Here! Here!" Carefully and long Saburo[u]zaémon scrutinized every spot. Following the voice he sought to get nearer and nearer. Thus he was brought right before the _tokonoma_ (alcove). For a moment he shielded his eyes with his hands, then boldly removed the screen and faced the spectre in the plaster. At first faint, then more strongly outlined was the vision of a young girl. At one time the face perhaps had had great beauty. Now there was a weird expression of life amid the wasting and decay of death. The living eyes gleamed a deadly hate and distress which showed the torment of the spirit. Framed in the wild disordered masses of long black hair the face of the apparition sought to plunge its own unhappiness into the soul of its visitor. It was a strange vision; one to rouse the desire for the beautiful woman in man's heart, the wish to shield; together with repulsion toward the most evil passions of a malice which inspires fear. Long and steadily the man gazed; the woman answered the challenge. Then again Endo[u] was the _samurai_. "On with the tale. To the wronged Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon gives right and worship. A _samurai_, he has passed his word, not to be broken." He would have taken seat before the alcove. Said the voice--"Honoured Sir, the tale is long. On the _ro[u]ka_ without is a stool. The _tatami_ are dangerous with the wet. Later deign the honoured hearing." With surprise Endo[u] followed these household directions. At the room close by he found the object indicated. Here met his eye a sign unmistakeable. In the very centre of the _tatami_ was a huge red-brownish stain; by the verandah a second stain; at the further entrance a third of kindred character. Plainly the tale he would hear was of no peaceful exit from life. To the tragedy of death had been added violence. Thus fortified he returned, to take his seat before the vision in the alcove; steadily, with the harsh official manner of his caste, to meet the evil, strangely seductive, malice of its look and suggestion. Then it spoke: