CHAPTER XXV.
CONFIDENCES.
Frantic mirth pervaded Osaka. That city of pleasure, of luxury,and of perpetual feasts detested war, political quarrels,mourning,--everything that prevented amusement; diversion being thechief aim of the inhabitants. And now the war was over! The faceslengthened by sorrow and alarm could be exchanged for the laughing,radiant visages of joy. At the first news of peace, the whole townbegan to dance: sailors on the quays of the Yedogawa, merchants ontheir doorsteps, and servants in the palace courtyards. Nor wererich citizens, officials, and nobles less delighted, if they weresomewhat more reserved in the expression of their joy. The princessesparticularly were enchanted; confined in their palaces, separated fromtheir husbands, they seemed to grow old during the war. They waked asfrom a nightmare. At last they were permitted to be beautiful oncemore, to smile, and to adorn themselves.
They flew to their great lacquer-chests, scattering odors of musk andsandal-wood as they pulled out the magnificent robes which they hadpacked away, in order to array themselves in gowns of more sombre hues.The floors were strewn with a picturesque medley of satin, silk andcrape of the most delicate tints. But on inspection, regarding thesegarments as faded and tumbled, they sent for dealers, tailors, andembroidering women.
On the very evening of the promulgation of the peace, the Courtannounced a water-party, to which all the wealthy inhabitants of Osakawere invited. Excitement ran riot. There was very little time forpreparation, or for trimming the boats.
Evening came; the river was lighted up. Thousands of boats, decked withwreaths of lanterns, left the river banks and glided slowly off, someup, some down the stream.
The royal barks soon appeared. Larger and handsomer than the others,they were carpeted with silken fabrics, which hung over and draggedin the water, and lighted-by huge round lanterns of gauze or paintedglass, surrounded by the variegated flutter of countless banners.Under the shelter of superb awnings, in the soft light of the lamps,lay graceful women, carelessly stretched upon cushions, amidst theample folds of their flowing robes. The embroidery of their kirimonsglittered, and the great shining pins in their hair gleamed. Nobles satbeside them, uttering a thousand nothings, at which they laughed andthrew back their heads. Luminous ripples danced upon the waves.
At the broadest part of the river, where the hills are cut intoterraces for a long distance, fire-works were arranged on frames: theywere to be sent off on the arrival of the Court. A vast crowd of noisy,merry people were stationed on the terraces to see the festivities.The spectators, some standing, others seated or lying down, carriedevery one a lantern, and took part in the illumination. Barrels of sakiwere plentiful; they rolled down the hills; they pitched and tumbledabout amid shouts and laughter. Some fell into the water: it was quitea farce to pull them out; some sank; but still everybody was soonintoxicated.
Fide-Yori was present in disguise. With the Prince of Nagato, heoccupied a light skiff carrying one faint light. Two men standing inthe prow steered. Half lying on their cushions, the friends silentlywatched the boats as they came and went.
The clear voice of the singers of national legends was heard,accompanied by the biva or the samsin. Bands of music passed, anddrowned with their noisy bray the sweet feminine tones. But suddenlythe fire-works blazed out, rockets shot through the air, Bengal lightsexploded, and let fall a shower of stars. Once begun, the fire-worksknew no interruption; the show-pieces were renewed as fast as theyvanished in smoke. There was a constant hiss, and crack, and sparkle.
The boat which bore Fide-Yori crossed that in which sat his mother,Yodogimi. The Princess, in a flood of light, appeared in a dazzlingtoilette. Her boat was entirely draped in gold brocade; the purplesatin awning had pearl tassels at each corner. General Harounaga,completely drunk, laughed noisily, lolling on a pile of cushions. TheShogun turned away his head, and the boat passed. Fide-Yori still heardthe soldier's shouts of laughter ringing in his ears.
The Prince of Nagato was lost in revery; he saw nothing but thereflection of the lights in the water. He seemed to behold the glow ofburning coals, of jewels, of flames and of molten metal. But he torehimself from his dream, thinking that the silence had lasted too long,and raised his eyes to the Shogun. Fide-Yori's face expressed a deepmelancholy; however, the young man examined every boat that passed,with an eager look.
Nagato watched him for some moments. "Whom does he seek?" he wondered.
Fide-Yori was evidently looking for some one; he heaved a heavy sighevery time that he was disappointed in his hope.
"Master," said Iwakura at last, "the whole nation rejoices to-day. Ithought that sorrow found shelter in my heart alone; but I see that youhave kept your share of it."
"I ought indeed to look happy," said Fide-Yori, "but, to you, I showmyself as I am. I have an aching heart, my friend, and nothing canallay my pain. The kingdom is at peace, but I am not?"
"What is it, my beloved prince?" said Nagato; "do you not rememberthat, a few days ago, you promised to confide your grief to me!"
"I have long desired to do so. I know not what strange restraint hasprevented me. I felt as if the emotion, at once so bitter and so sweet,which I now experience for the first time, should be told to no oneuntil she who inspires it had heard my tale."
"You are in love, friend; I suspected it. But why should you sufferfrom your love?"
"The woman I love saved my life. I never saw her but once. Her name isOmiti; that is all I know of her," said the Shogun.
"Poor dear Prince!" cried Nagato; "and you were never able to traceher?"
"Alas, no!"
"Do you know to what class she belongs?"
"She is the daughter of a noble," said Fide-Yori; "her language and herdress told me that. But were she the lowest reprobate, if ever Heavenpermit me to find her, she shall be my wife."
"We will seek her together," said Nagato.
"I seek her even now in the midst of this crowd. Every boat thatpasses, laden with women, quickens the beating of my heart."
"Then you think that she lives in Osaka?" said the Prince of Nagato.
"I hope and think so," said Fide-Yori.
"Then she is certainly at this festival. What young girl would stay athome to-day?"
"So I thought, friend," replied the Shogun; "that is why I am here."
"Come, give me a hasty sketch of her whom you love," said Nagato, "sothat I may help you in your search."
"She is full of exquisite grace; small; her eyes are very large; shehas a childish air; her smile is a flower wet with dew."
"The portrait is somewhat lacking in detail," said Iwakura, smiling."Never mind; let us look for her; you are here to correct the errorsthat I make."
They ordered their men to row rapidly, and to traverse every part ofthe river furrowed by illuminated boats. Their light skiff flew overthe water like a swallow. It went, came, glided from one side of thestream to the opposite shore, never coming in contact with any other.Not one craft escaped the eager scrutiny of the two friends; but theirsearch was in vain.
"Her name is Omiti; you know nothing more?" asked Nagato.
"Nothing; but I fancy that the family to which she belongs is hostileto me. When she told me of the existence of a conspiracy, she refusedto give me the names of its authors."
"Ah!" suddenly exclaimed Nagato, "just see that girl over there. Isn'tshe the very one you are looking for? I never saw such lovely eyes.".
Fide-Yori turned quickly. "Bah!" said he, "you're mocking me; her lipsare thick, and her nose is flat."
"So they are," said Nagato. "Forgive me; she looked pretty from adistance."
Their boat reached the point where the river widened, and wherefire-works continued to shoot heavenward.
Fide-Yori, in his turn, uttered a loud exclamation. Through a scoreof blazing rockets he thought he spied Omiti's face; and he was notmistaken. "There, there!" he cried; "follow that boat; hurry!"
The rowers hastily tacked; but they had to make a _detour_; the greatrafts from wh
ich the fire-works were sent off blocked the way. Whenthey had passed them, no one knew which boat they were to follow.Fide-Yori had observed nothing but the maiden's face; he saw it nolonger. He had noticed neither the number of lanterns nor the colors ofthe banners. Besides, just at this point there was such a bewilderingarray of boats of every shape and size, that it was impossible to move.
Fide-Yori trembled with agitation and alarm.
"She will escape me," said he. "Must I find her only to lose her, afterwaiting so long?"
"Did you see which way the boat went?" asked Iwakura.
"I thought it went up stream."
"Well, let us row that way, then; they can't have gone far. One isfairly held captive here. We shall find her again."
Fide-Yori took courage. "Row up the river," he cried to his men. Theyoung Shogun leaned over the edge and gazed eagerly about. Severalpeople recognized him. Numbers of princesses of the royal household,lords, and generals passed close by him. He saw his mother and GeneralHarounaga again; but the face he sought had vanished.
"Perhaps we were too hasty," said he.
They retraced their course; then went up stream once more.
"The festivities are almost over!" Fide-Yori cried, suddenly. "Let usgo to the outskirts of the throng and wait for that boat; when it makesfor home, it must pass us."
"Which way shall we go?" said Nagato.
"Towards the upper town; there are no houses of nobles in the directionof the sea."
They waited in vain; the boat did not appear. It had gone down theriver, and proceeded towards the suburbs. Fide-Yori went back to thepalace discouraged. The Prince of Nagato tried to console him.
"Are you very sure that the woman you saw was the one you are lookingfor?" said he.
"Sure!" cried Fide-Yori. "I never saw her face but once; but my eyescan never forget it."
"Then," said the Prince, "instead of being sad, rejoice. You onlyimagined that she lived in this city; now you are certain she does. Sowe are sure of finding her. You must give another entertainment, andshe will be there."
"You are right, friend," said Fide-Yori; "you shall help me; we willsearch the city. We will find her yet; she shall be my wife. Then mylife, which has been but a series of sorrows and disillusions, willbegin to brighten. Let us start to-morrow, eh? We'll open the campaignbefore a new festival can be arranged; we will study the city, districtby district; we'll wrest her secret from her. Oh! you have given mefresh courage; you have almost made me happy!"
Hope illumined the young Shogun's eyes, a smile trembled on his lips.All at once a cloud darkened his brow. "How cruel and selfish I am!"he exclaimed. "You, my best friend, my devoted brother, have just lostthe woman whom you love; she died a frightful death. And I insult yourgrief by talking of my love and my hopes. How dare I be gay when youare wretched!"
"Master," said Nagato, "I feel a deep regret for the woman who died formy sake; I cherished a brotherly affection for her. But my betrothedwas not my beloved."
"What do I hear?" cried Fide-Yori; "you lift a great weight from myheart. I supposed you were crushed forever. Then you may be happy yet,as well as I."
Iwakura shook his head. "My love is made up of light and shade," saidhe. "I can never be entirely happy; it is composed half of celestialbliss, and half of utter misery. Such as it is, however, it is my wholelife."
"Whom do you love, then?" asked Fide-Yori.
"Oh, Master!" said the Prince, covering his eyes with his hand, "do notask me."
"It is so sweet to talk of the loved one! See! since I made you myconfidant, my trouble has diminished by half."
"I am condemned to silence."
"Even to me? Is it thus you love me? I regret that I opened my heart toyou."
"If I should confess the object of my love, you would shun the subjectforever."
"Is it my mother?"
"No," said Nagato, smiling.
"Who is it? Tell me, I beseech you!"
"The Kisaki."
"Unhappy man!" cried Fide-Yori; and, as the Prince had predicted, headded not another word.
Next day the work of demolishing the ramparts began. Ten thousand menattacked them; they stood firm. No one knew what to do next. The stonesrested on sloping ground, and seemed as if riveted in their places.Above, on the terre-plein, which formed a spacious terrace, cedar-treesgrew, and cast a heavy shade. The first breach was made in the towersprojecting at intervals from the walls. They were thrown down into themoat; then huge blocks were dragged from the walls, and the work wasended. Only the shattered walls seemed to be still standing; the stoneswere not there, the mountain of earth remained; but the moat was filledup.
While this work of destruction was going on, the city continued tomake merry. Fide-Yori ordered a huge bell to be cast, and dedicatedit solemnly to the temple of Buddha; upon this bell were engraved thewords: _Henceforth my house shall be at peace_.
On the occasion of the consecration public rejoicings were held, and asplendid performance was announced to be given at the chief theatre inOsaka. A new play was to be brought out, entitled, "The Taiko-Ki," thatis to say, the story of Taiko. This semi-historical work was writtenin honor of Fide-Yori's father. The moment was well chosen for itsperformance, and the preparations were therefore hastened on. But asthe stage-setting was to be very elaborate, no positive date could befixed.
Nothing else was talked of throughout the city. Places were reservedin advance; from five to six kobangs[1] were paid for a seat. Thewomen eagerly arranged their drosses for the occasion; tailors andembroiderers were beside themselves with commissions. The praises ofthe leading actor, who was to take the part of Taiko, were loudly sung.Everybody knew him; he was famous. He had been nicknamed Nariko-Ma, the"Humming-Top."
Fide-Yori, too, waited impatiently for the day of the performance. Hehoped that Omiti would be present; and there at least she could notescape him. His search throughout the city with Prince Nagato had beenfruitless. It was not so easy as they had fancied, to enter every houseand ask for the young girl. They began with the homes of the nobility.That was comparatively easy. The Shogun honored the wives of the absentlords with a visit incognito; it was his whim to see the family of theprincesses. He thus passed in review all the noble maidens of Osaka.To enter the houses of wealthy citizens, the two friends were forcedto don a disguise, and were not always well received. Their devicesto get a glimpse of the daughters of the house varied. They sometimespretended to have seen an article of priceless value drop from a younggirl's sleeve, and were unwilling to return it to any but herself. Orthey would say they were sent by an old man in utter despair, who hadlost his only daughter, and was looking for a girl of the same age, andbearing some likeness to her, that he might leave his immense fortuneto her. This latter invention, of the Prince of Nagato, was quitesuccessful. But the task was a long one; they had already spent a weekin the search, and had only visited the palaces and one street in Osaka.
"We shall never contrive to see every house in this great city," saidFide-Yori; "we are crazy to think of doing it."
"We may grow old before we find her whom we seek," replied Nagato. "Nomatter, let us go on looking; perhaps we shall come across her in thevery next house we enter."
Fide-Yori sighed.
"Let us wait till the doors of the theatre are thrown open," said he.
At last huge posters, printed on silk or colored paper, announced thedate of the performance.
"We shall see her at the theatre; she will be there, I feel sure," saidthe Shogun, clinging to that hope.
[1] Twelve to fifteen dollars.