L'Usurpateur. English Read online




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  THE USURPER

  Episode in Japanese History

  BY

  JUDITH GAUTIER

  TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH

  BY

  ABBY LANGDON ALGER

  BOSTON

  ROBERTS BROTHERS

  1884

  CONTENTS.

  I. THE LEMON GROVE II. NAGATO'S WOUND III. FEAST OF THE SEA-GOD IV. THE SISTER OF THE SUN V. THE KNIGHTS OF HEAVEN VI. THE FRATERNITY of BLIND MEN VII. PERJURY VIII. THE CASTLE OF OWARI IX. THE TEA-HOUSE X. THE TRYST XI. THE WARRIOR-QUAILS XII. THE WESTERN ORCHARD XIII. THE MIKADO'S THIRTY-THREE DINNERS XIV. THE HAWKING-PARTY XV. THE USURPER XVI. THE FISHERMEN OF OSAKA BAY XVII. DRAGON-FLY ISLAND XVIII. THE PRINCIPALITY OF NAGATO XIX. A TOMB XX. THE MESSENGERS XXI. THE KISAKI XXII. THE MIKADO XXIII. FATKOURA XXIV. THE TREATY OF PEACE XXV. CONFIDENCES XXVI. THE GREAT THEATRE OF OSAKA XXVII. OMITI XXVIII. HENCEFORTH MY HOUSE SHALL BE AT PEACE XXIX. THE HIGH-PRIESTESS OF THE SUN XXX. BATTLES XXXI. THE FUNERAL PILE

  THE USURPER.

  AN EPISODE IN JAPANESE HISTORY.

  (1615.)

  CHAPTER I.

  THE LEMON GROVE.

  Night was nearly gone. All slept in the beautiful bright city of Osaka.The harsh cry of the sentinels, calling one to another on the ramparts,broke the silence, unruffled otherwise save for the distant murmur ofthe sea as it swept into the bay.

  Above the great dark mass formed by the palace and gardens of theShogun[1] a star was fading slowly. Dawn trembled in the air, and thetree-tops were more plainly outlined against the sky, which grew bluerevery moment. Soon a pale glimmer touched the highest branches, slippedbetween the boughs and their leaves, and filtered downward to theground. Then, in the gardens of the Prince, alleys thick with bramblesdisplayed their dim perspective; the grass resumed its emerald hue;a tuft of poppies renewed the splendor of its sumptuous flowers, anda snowy flight of steps was faintly visible through the mist, down adistant avenue.

  At last, suddenly, the sky grew purple; arrows of light athwart thebushes made every drop of water on the leaves sparkle. A pheasantalighted heavily; a crane shook her white wings, and with a long cryflew slowly upwards; while the earth smoked like a caldron, and thebirds loudly hailed the rising sun.

  As soon as the divine luminary rose from the horizon, the sound of agong was heard. It was struck with a monotonous rhythm of overpoweringmelancholy,--four heavy strokes, four light strokes; four heavystrokes, and so on. It was the salute to the coming day, and the callto morning prayers.

  A hearty youthful peal of laughter, which broke forth suddenly, drownedthese pious sounds for an instant; and two men appeared, dark againstthe clear sky, at the top of the snowy staircase. They paused a moment,on the uppermost step, to admire the lovely mass of brambles, ferns,and flowering shrubs which wreathed the balustrade of the staircase.Then they descended slowly through the fantastic shadows cast acrossthe steps by the branches. Reaching the foot of the stairs, they movedquickly aside, that they might not upset a tortoise creeping leisurelyalong the last step. This tortoise's shell had been gilded, but thegilding was somewhat tarnished by the dampness of the grass. The twomen moved down the avenue.

  The younger of the pair was scarcely twenty years old, but would havepassed for more, from the proud expression of his face, and the easyconfidence of his glance. Still, when he laughed, he seemed a child;but he laughed seldom, and a sort of haughty gloom darkened his noblebrow. His costume was very simple. Over a robe of gray crape he wore amantle of blue satin, without any embroidery. He carried an open fan inhis hand.

  His comrade's dress was, on the contrary, very elegant. His robewas made of a soft white silk, just tinged with blue, suggestiveof reflected moonlight. It fell in fine folds to his feet, and wasconfined at the waist by a girdle of black velvet. The wearer wastwenty-four years old; he was a specimen of perfect beauty. The warmpallor of his face, his mockingly sweet eyes, and, above all, thescornful indifference apparent in his whole person, exercised a strangecharm. His hand rested on the richly wrought hilt of one of the twoswords whose points lifted up the folds of his black velvet cloak, theloose hanging sleeves of which were thrown back over his shoulders.

  The two friends were bare-headed; their hair, twisted like a rope, wasknotted around the top of their heads.

  "But where are you taking me, gracious master?" suddenly cried theolder of the two young men.

  "This is the third time you have asked that question since we left thepalace, Iwakura."

  "But you have not answered once, light of my eyes!"

  "Well! I want to surprise you. Shut your eyes and give me your hand."

  Iwakura obeyed, and his companion led him a few steps across the grass.

  "Now look," he said.

  Iwakura opened his eyes, and uttered a low cry of astonishment.

  Before him stretched a lemon grove in full bloom. Every tree and everyshrub seemed covered with hoar-frost; on the topmost twigs the dawncast tints of rose and gold. Every branch bent beneath its perfumedload; the clusters of flowers hung to the ground, upon which theoverburdened boughs trailed. Amid this white wealth which gave forth adelicious odor, a few tender green leaves were occasionally visible.

  "See," said the younger man with a smile, "I wanted to share with you,my favorite friend, the pleasure of this marvellous sight before anyother eye rested on it. I was here yesterday: the grove was like athicket of pearls; to-day all the flowers are open."

  "These trees remind me of what the poet says of peach-blossoms," saidIwakura; "only here the snow-flakes of butterflies' wings with whichthe trees are covered have not turned rose-colored in their descentfrom heaven."

  "Ah!" cried the younger man sighing, "would I might plunge into themidst of those flowers as into a bath, and intoxicate myself even untodeath with their strong perfume!"

  Iwakura, having admired them, made a slightly disappointed grimace.

  "Far more beautiful blossoms were about to open in my dream," said he,stifling a yawn. "Master, why did you make me get up so early?"

  "Come, Prince of Nagato," said the young man, laying his hand on hiscomrade's shoulder, "confess. I did not make you get up, for you didnot go to bed last night."

  "What?" cried Iwakura; "what makes you think so!"

  "Your pallor, friend, and your haggard eyes."

  "Am I not always so?"

  "The dress you wear would be far too elegant for the hour of thecock.[2] And see! the sun has scarcely risen; we have only reached thehour of the rabbit."[3]

  "To honor such a master as you, no hour is too early."

  "Is it also in my honor, faithless subject, that you appear before mearmed? Those two swords, forgotten in your sash, condemn you; you hadjust returned to the palace when I summoned you."

  The guilty youth hung his head, not attempting to defend himself.

  "But what ails your arm?" suddenly cried the other, noticing athin white bandage wound about Iwakura's sleeve.

  The latter hid his arm behind him, and held out the other hand.

  "Nothing," he said.

  But his companion grasped the arm which he concealed. The Prince ofNagato uttered an exclamation of pain.

  "You are wounded, eh? One of these days I shall hear that Nagato hasbeen killed in some foolish brawl. What have you been doing now,incorrigible and imprudent fellow?"

  "When Hieyas, the regent, comes before you, you will know only too muchabout it," said the Prince; "you will hear fine things, O illustriousfriend, in regard to your unworthy favorite. Methinks I already hea
rthe sound of the terrible voice of the man from whom nothing is hid:'Fide-Yori, ruler of Japan, son of the great Taiko-Sama, whose memory Irevere! grave disorders have this night troubled Osaka.'"

  The Prince of Nagato mimicked the voice of Hieyas so well that theyoung Shogun could not repress a smile.

  'And what are these disorders?' you will say. 'Doors broken open,blows, tumults, scandals.' 'Are the authors of these misdeeds known?''The leader of the riot is the true criminal, and I know him well.''Who is he?' 'Who should it be but the man who takes a share in everyadventure, every nocturnal brawl; who, but the Prince of Nagato, theterror of honest families, the dread of peaceful men?' And then youwill pardon me, O too merciful man! Hieyas will reproach you with yourweakness, dwelling upon it, that this weakness may redound to theinjury of the Shogun and the profit of the Regent."

  "What if I lose patience at last, Nagato," said the Shogun; "what if Iexile you to your own province for a year?"

  "I should go, master, without a murmur."

  "Yes; and who would be left to love me?" said Fide-Yori, sadly. "I amsurrounded by devotion, not by affection like yours. But perhaps I amunjust," he added; "you are the only one I love, and doubtless that iswhy I think no one loves me but you."

  Nagato raised his eyes gratefully to the Prince.

  "You feel that you are forgiven, don't you?" said Fide-Yori, smiling."But try to spare me the Regent's reproaches; you know how painful theyare to me. Go and salute him; the hour of his levee is at hand; we willmeet again in the council."

  "Must I smile upon that ugly creature?" grumbled Nagato.

  But he had his dismissal; he saluted the Shogun, and moved away with asulky air.

  Fide-Yori continued his walk along the avenue, but soon returned to thelemon grove. He paused to admire it once more, and plucked a slendertwig loaded with flowers. But just then the foliage rustled as if blownby a strong breeze; an abrupt movement stirred the branches, and ayoung girl appeared among the blossoms.

  The Shogun started violently, and almost uttered a cry; he fanciedhimself the prey to some hallucination.

  "Who are you?" he exclaimed; "perhaps the guardian spirit of thisgrove?"

  "Oh, no," said the girl in a trembling voice; "but I am a very boldwoman."

  She issued from the grove amidst a shower of snowy petals, and knelt onthe grass, stretching out her hands to the King.

  Fide-Yori bent his head toward her, and gazed curiously at her. She wasof exquisite beauty,--small, graceful, apparently weighed down by theamplitude of her robes. It seemed as if their silken weight bore herto her knees. Her large innocent eyes, like the eyes of a child, weretimid and full of entreaty; her cheeks, velvety as a butterfly's wings,were tinged with a slight blush, and her small mouth, half open inadmiration, revealed teeth white as drops of milk.

  "Forgive me," she exclaimed, "forgive me for appearing before youwithout your express command."

  "I forgive you, poor trembling bird," said Fide-Yori, "for had I knownyou and known your desire, my wish would have been to see you. What canI do for you? Is it in my power to make you happy?"

  "Oh, master!" eagerly cried the girl, "with one word you can make memore radiant than Ten-Sio-Dai-Tsin, the daughter of the Sun."

  "And what is that word?"

  "Swear that you will not go to-morrow to the feast of the God of theSea."

  "Why this oath?" said the Shogun, amazed at this strange request.

  "Because," said the young girl, shuddering, "a bridge will give waybeneath the King's feet; and when night falls, Japan will be without aruler."

  "I suppose you have discovered a conspiracy?" said Fide-Yori, smiling.

  At this incredulous smile the girl turned pale, and her eyes filledwith tears.

  "O pure disk of light!" she cried, "he does not believe me! All that Ihave hitherto accomplished is in vain! This is a dreadful obstacle, ofwhich I never dreamed. You hearken to the voice of the cricket whichprophesies heat; you listen to the frog who croaks a promise of rain;but a young girl who cries, 'Take care! I have seen the trap! death ison your path!' you pay no heed to her, but plunge headlong into thesnare. But it must not be; you must believe me. Shall I kill myselfat your feet? My death might be a pledge of my sincerity. Besides,if I have been deceived, what matters it? You can easily absentyourself from the feast. Hear me! I come along way, from a distantprovince. Alone with the dull anguish of my secret, I outwitted themost subtle spies, I conquered my terrors and overcame my weakness.My father thinks me gone on a pilgrimage to Kioto; and, you see, I amin your city, in the grounds of your palace. And yet the sentinelsare watchful, the moats are broad, the walls high. See, my hands arebleeding; I burn with fever. Just now I feared I could not speak, myweary heart throbbed so violently at sight of you and with the joy ofsaving you. But now I am dizzy, my blood has turned to ice: you do notbelieve me."

  "I believe you, and I swear to obey you," said the king, touched by heraccent of despair. "I will not go to the feast of the God of the Sea."

  The young girl uttered a cry of delight, and gazed with gratitude atthe sun as it rose above the trees.

  "But tell me how you discovered this plot," continued the Shogun, "andwho are its authors?"

  "Oh! do not order me to tell you. The whole edifice of infamy that Ioverthrow would fall upon my own head."

  "So be it, my child; keep your secret. But at least tell me whencecomes this great devotion, and why is my life so precious to you?"

  The girl slowly raised her eyes to the King, then looked down andblushed, but did not reply. A vague emotion troubled the heart of thePrince. He was silent, and yielded to the sweet sensation. He wouldfain have remained thus, in silence, amidst these bird songs, theseperfumes, beside this kneeling maiden.

  "Tell me who you are, you who have saved me from death," he asked atlast; "and tell me what reward I can give you worthy of your courage."

  "My name is Omiti," said the young girl; "I can tell you nothing more.Give me the flower that you hold in your hand; it is all I would havefrom you."

  Fide-Yori offered her the lemon twig; Omiti seized it, and fled throughthe grove.

  The Shogun stood rooted to the spot for some time, lost in thought,gazing at the turf pressed by the light foot of Omiti.

  [1] Lord of the kingdom. This is the same title as Tycoon, but thelatter was not created till 1854.

  [2] Six hours after noon.

  [3] Six o'clock in the morning.