CHAPTER LV

KNOW ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS

Long, windless, golden days of spring and falling cherry-petals, with cloud-piles like fleecy pillars, with fringing palm-plumes and bamboo foliage turning from yellow cadmium to tawny green.

Drowsy, lotos-eating days of summer among purple hills wound in a luminous elfin haze. Days of typhoon and straight-falling rain. Sunsets of smouldering crimson and nights under a blue-black vault palpitating with star-swarms or a waste of turquoise, liquid with tropic moonlight.

Languorous days of autumn by the Inland Sea, when the dying summer's breath lingers like the perfume of incense, and the mirroring lilac water deepens to bishop's-purple.

So the mild Japanese winter comes--slowly, under a high, keen sky, bringing at last its scourging of dust and wind, its chill, opaque nights with their spectral fog veiling the trembling flames of the constellations, and its few, rare days when the evergreen earth is covered with a blanket of snow.

There came one such day when Daunt stood with Barbara by the huge stone _torii_ at the gateway of the _Mon-to_ temple on the Hill-of-the-Spirit. The air was softly radiant but not cold, the translucent heavens tinted with a fairy mauve, which on the horizon merged into dying hyacinth. The camelia hedges stood like blanched rows of crystalled beryl, the stalwart _mochi_ trees were cased in argent armor, and the curving porch of the temple, the roof of the near-by nunnery, the forest of bronze lanterns and the square stone tablets in the graveyard were capped with soft rounded mounds of snow. It lay thickly over the paved space save where a wide way had been cleared to the temple steps, for the day was a _saijits'_, a holy day, when the people gather to worship.

Across the lane they could see the Chapel lifting its white cross into the clear blue. From its chancel arch was hung a crucifix of gold-lacquer, where the declining sun, shining through the stained glass of the rose-window, each evening touched it to shimmering color. The altar to-day was fragrant with the first plum-blossoms; two hours ago the bishop, standing before it, had read the sacred office which had made them man and wife. The carriage which was to take them to Shimbashi Station waited now at the end of the lane while Barbara brought a branch of the early blooms to lay on a Buddhist grave in a tenantless garden.

In one of the farther groups before the temple steps was a miniature _rick-sha_ drawn by a servant. It held a child who had not walked since a night when, with clenched hands and brave little heart, he had run into the path of a speeding motor-car. On the breast of his wadded _kimono_ was a knot of ribbon at which the other children gazed in awe and wonder. It had been pinned one night to a small hospital shirt when the wandering eyes were hot with fever and the baby face pinched and white, by a lady whom Ishikichi had thought must be the Sun Goddess at very least, and before whom the attendants of that room of pain had bowed to the very mats. He knew that in some dim way, without quite knowing how, he had helped that great, mysterious something that meant the Government of Japan, and that he should be very proud of it. But Ishikichi was far prouder of the fine foreign front that had displaced the poor little shop in the Street-of-prayer-to-the-Gods.

Nearer the gateway, on the edge of the gathering, stood an old man, his face seamed and lined, but with eye clear and young and a smile on his face. The crest on his sleeve was the _mon_ of an ancient and honored _samurai_ family. He leaned on the arm of his adopted son--a Commander of the Imperial Navy whose name had once been Ishida Hetaro. They stood apart, regarding not the Temple, but the low building across the hedge, behind whose bamboo lattice dim forms passed and repassed.

"Look," said Barbara suddenly, and touched Daunt's arm. A woman's figure had paused at the lattice of the nunnery. She was dressed in slate-color and her delicate features and close-shaven head gave her a singularly unearthly appearance, like an ethereal and angelic boy. The little two-wheeled carriage drew up at the lattice and a slender hand reached out and patted the round cropped head of its occupant. As the vehicle was drawn away, the nun looked up and across the yard--toward the old _samurai_ and the young naval officer. The wraith of a flush crept into her cheek. She smiled, and they smiled in return, the placid Japanese smile which is the rainbow of forbidden tears. A second they stood thus, then the slate-colored figure drew back and was gone, and the old man, supported by the younger arm, passed slowly out of the yard.

Barbara's eyes were still on the lattice as Daunt spoke. "What is it?" he asked.

"The face of the nun there," she said, with vague wistfulness. "It reminds me of some one I have known. Who can it be, I wonder!"

They crossed the yard, and entered the deserted garden. The great ruin at its side was covered with friendly shrubs and the all-transfiguring snow. The line of stepping-stones had been swept clean and beside the frost-fretted lake an irregular segment of rock, closely carved with ideographs, had been planted upright. It stood in mystic peace, looking between the snow-buried, birdless trees toward the horizon where Fuji-San towered into the infinite calm--a magical mountain woven of a world of gems, on which the sun's heart beat in a tumult. At the base of the stone slab were Buddhist vases filled with green leaves in fresh water, and in one of these Barbara placed the branch of plum-blossoms. Its pink petals lay against the brown rock like the kiss of spring on a wintry heart.

As she arranged the sprays, Daunt stood looking down on her bent head, where, under her fur hat, the sun was etching gold-hued lines on the soft copper of her hair. He had taken a yellowed envelope from his pocket.

"Do you remember, dearest," he said, "that I once told you of an old envelope in the Chancery safe bearing the name of Aloysius Thorn?"

"Yes," she answered wonderingly.

"It was opened, after his death, while you were away. It contained his will. I turned it into Japanese, as best I could, for the temple priests. It is carved there on the stone. The Ambassador gave the original to the bishop, and he handed it to me to-day for you. He thought you would like to keep it." He drew the paper from the discolored envelope and handed it to her.

She sat down on a boulder and unfolding the faded sheets, began to read aloud, in a voice that became more and more unsteady:

"KNOW ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, that I, Aloysius Thorn, of the city of Tokyo, in Tokyo-fu, Empire of Japan, being in health and of sound and disposing mind and memory, do make and publish this my last will and testament, devising, bequeathing and disposing in the manner following, to wit:

"Item: I give, devise and bequeath to Japanese children, inclusively, for and through the term of their childhood, the woods of cryptomeria, with their green silences, and the hillsides with the chirpings of bell-crickets in the _sa-sa_ grass and the fairy quiverings of golden butterflies. I give them the husky crow and the darting swallow under the eaves. And I devise to them all lotos-pools on which to sail their straw _sampan_, the golden carp and the lilac-flashing dragon-fly in and above them, and the _dodan_ thickets where the _semi_ chime their silver cymbals. I also give to them all temple yards, wheresoever situate, and all moats, and the green banks thereunto appertaining, for their playgrounds, providing, however, that they break no tree or shrub, remembering that trees, like children, have souls. And I devise to them the golden fire of the morning and all long, white clouds, to have and to hold the same, without let or hindrance. These the above I bequeath to them, possessing no little child of my own with whom to share my interest in the world.

"To boys especially I give and bequeath all holidays to be glad in, and the blue sky for their paper kites. To girls I give and bestow the rainbow _kimono_, the flower in the hair and the battledore. And I bequeath them all kinds of dolls, reminding them that these, if loved enough, may some time come alive.

"Item: To young men, jointly, I devise and bequeath the rough sports of _kenjuts'_ and of _ju-jits'_, the _shinai_-play and all manly games. I give them the knowledge of all brave legends of the _samurai_, and especially do I leave them the care and respect for the aged. I give them all far places to travel in and all manner of strange and delectable adventures therein. And I apportion to them the high noon, with its appurtenances, to wit: the heat and burden of the day, its commotions, its absorbing occupations and its fiercer rivalries. I give to them, moreover, the cherry-blossom, the flower of _bushido_, which, falling in the April of its bloom, may ever be for them the symbol of a life smilingly yielded in its prime.

"To young women, I give and devise the glow of the afternoon, the soft blue witchery of pine shadows, the delicate traceries of the bamboo and the thin, low laughter of waterfalls. I devise to them all manner of perfumes, and tender spring blossoms (save in the one exception provided hereinbefore), such as the plum-blossom and the wistaria, with the red maple-leaves and the gorgeous glories of the chrysanthemum. And I give to them all games of flower-cards, and all divertisements of music, as the _biwa_, the flute and the _samisen_, and of dances whatsoever they may choose.

"Item: To the aged I bequeath snowy hair, the long memories of the past and the golden _ihai_ on the Buddha-Shelf. I give them the echo of tiny bare feet on the _tatamé_, and the grave bowing of small shaven heads. I devise to them the evening's blaze of crimson glory and the amber clouds above the sunset, the pale _andon_ and the indigo shadows, the dusk dance of the yellow lanterns, the gathering of friends at the moon-viewing place and the liquid psalmody of the nightingale. I give to them also the winter, the benediction of snow-bent boughs and the waterways gliding with their silver smiles. I give to them sufficient space to lie down within a temple ground that echoes the play of little children. And finally I bequeath to them the love and blessing of succeeding generations for the blossoming of a hundred lives.

"In testimony whereof, I, the said Aloysius Thorn--"

* * * * *

Barbara's voice broke off. Her eyes were wet as she folded the paper. Daunt drew her to her feet, and with his arm about her, they stood looking out across the white city lying in all its ghostly glamour--the many-gabled watch-towers above the castle walls, the glistening plateau of Aoyama with its dull red barracks, the rolling sea of wan roofs, and far beyond, the creeping olive of the bay. In the clear distance they could see the lift of Kudan Hill, and the gray pile of the Russian Cathedral. Standing in its candle-lighted nave, they had listened to Japanese choir-boys hymning the Birth in Bethlehem. The next Christmas they two would be together--but in another land!

"Minister to Persia!" she said. "I am glad of your appointment, for it means so much to your career. And yet--and yet--"

In the temple yard behind them an acolyte, wading knee-deep in the snow, swung the cedar beam of the bell-tower and the deep-voiced boom rolled out across the cradling hush. Again and yet again it struck, the waves of sound throbbing into volume through the still air. It came to them like a firm and beautiful voice, the articulate echo of the Soul of Japan.

The whinny of restive horses stole over the hedges. Silently Daunt held out his hand to her. She bent and picked a single plum-blossom from the branch and slipped it into the yellow envelope. For a last time she looked out across the distance.

"The beautiful country!" she said.

THE END

Transcriber Notes:

Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.

Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.

Throughout the document, the oe ligature was replaced with "oe".

Throughout the document, an "o" with a macron the was replaced with "[=o]", and a "u" with a macron the was replaced with "[=u]".

Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.

The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate.

Errors in punctuation, inconsistent hyphenation, and idiosyncratic spellings were not corrected unless otherwise noted.

In the table of contents, "BANZAI NIPPON" was replaced with "BANZAI NIPPON!"

On page 1, "Rosicrusian" was replaced with "Rosicrucian".

On page 12, "tauntness" was replaced with "tautness".

On page 30, "exhiliration" was replaced with "exhilaration".

On page 36, "cockaboo" was replaced with "cockatoo".

On page 40, "pastelles" was replaced with "pastels".

On page 114, "xilophone" was replaced with "xylophone".

On page 193, "rich'sha" was replaced with "rick'sha".

On page 206, "rich'sha" was replaced with "rick'sha".

On page 213, "oramented" was replaced with "ornamented".

On page 373, "irony plectrons" was replaced with "ivory plectrums".

On page 417, "scimetar" was replaced with "scimitar".