L'Usurpateur. English Read online

  CHAPTER III.

  FEAST OF THE SEA-GOD.

  Next day, from early dawn, the streets of Osaka were full of movementand mirth. The people prepared for the feast, rejoicing in the thoughtof coming pleasures. Shops, the homes of artisans and citizens, openingfull upon the street, afforded a free view of their modest interiors,furnished only with a few beautifully colored screens.

  Voices were heard, mixed with bursts of laughter; and now and then somemischievous child struggled out of his mother's arms, while she wastrying to dress him in his holiday attire, and frisked, and danced withglee upon the wooden stairs leading from the house to the road. He wasthen recalled with cries of pretended anger from within, the father'svoice was heard, and the child returned to his mother, trembling withimpatience.

  Sometimes a little one would cry: "Mother, mother! Here comes theprocession!"

  "Nonsense!" said the mother; "the priests have not even finisheddressing yet."

  But still she moved towards the front of the house, and, leaning overthe light balustrade, gazed into the street.

  Carriers, naked save for a strip of stuff knotted round their waists,hastened rapidly by, across their shoulders a bamboo stick, which bentat the tip from the weight of a package of letters. They went in thedirection of the Shogun's residence.

  Before the barber's shops the crowd was thicker than elsewhere; theboys could not possibly shave all the chins presented, or dress allthe heads offered. Customers awaiting their turn chatted gayly outsidethe door. Some were already dressed in their holiday garb, of brightcolors, covered with embroidery. Others, more prudent, naked to thewaist, preferred to finish their toilet after their hair was dressed.Vegetable-sellers and fish-merchants moved about through the throng,loudly praising their wares, which they carried in two buckets hangingfrom a cross piece of wood laid over one shoulder.

  On every side people were trimming their houses with pennants, andstreamers, and embroidered stuffs covered with Chinese inscriptions ingold on a black or purple ground; lanterns were hung up, and blossomingboughs.

  As the morning advanced, the streets became fuller and fuller of merrytumult. Bearers of norimonos, clad in light tunics drawn tightly roundtheir waist, with large shield-shaped hats, shouted to the people tomake room. Samurais went by on horseback, preceded by runners, who,with lowered head and arms extended, forced a passage through thecrowd. Groups paused to talk, sheltered from the sun by huge parasols,and formed motionless islands in the midst of the surging, billowysea of promenaders. A doctor hurried by, fanning himself gravely, andfollowed by his two assistants carrying the medicine-chest.

  "Illustrious master, are you not going to the feast!" cried thepassers-by.

  "Sick men pay no heed to feasts," he answered with a sigh; "and asthere are none for them, there can be none for us."

  On the banks of Yedogava the excitement was still greater. The riverwas literally hidden by thousands of vessels; the masts trimmed, thesails still unset, but ready to unfurl, like wings; the hatchways hungwith silks and satins; the prows decked with banners whose goldenfringe, dipped into the water, glittered in the sun, and stained theazure stream with many-colored ripples.

  Bands of young women in brilliant attire came down the snowy steps ofthe river-banks cut into broad terraces. They entered elegant boatsmade of camphor-wood, set off by carvings and ornaments of copper, andfilled them with flowers, which spread perfumes through the air.

  From the top of Kiobassi--that fine bridge which resembles a bentbow--were hung pieces of gauze; crape, and light silk, of the mostdelicate colors, and covered with inscriptions. A gentle breeze softlystirred these lovely stuffs, which the boats, moving up and down,pushed aside as they passed. In, the distance glistened the tall towerof the palace and the two monstrous goldfish which adorn its pinnacle.At the entrance to the city, to right and left of the river, the twosuperb bastions looking out to sea displayed on every tower, at eachangle of the wall, the national standard, white with a scarlet disk,--an emblem of the sun rising through the morning mists. Scatteredpagodas upreared above the trees against the radiant sky their manyroofs, curled upward at the edge in Chinese fashion.

  The pagoda of Yebis, the divinity of the sea, attracted especialattention upon this day; not that its towers were higher, or its sacreddoors more numerous, than those of neighboring temples, but from itsgardens was to start the religious procession so eagerly awaited by thecrowd.

  At last, in the distance, the drum sounded. Every ear was bent to catchthe sacred rhythm familiar to all: a few violent blows at regularintervals, then a hasty roll, gradually fading and dying, then againabrupt blows.

  A tremendous roar of delight rose from the crowd, who instantly tooktheir places along the houses on either side of the streets throughwhich the procession was to pass.

  The Kashiras, district police, rapidly stretched cords from stake tostake, to prevent the throng from trespassing on the main street. Theprocession had started; it had passed through the Tory, or sacredgateway which stands outside the pagoda of Yebis; and soon it defiledbefore the impatient multitude.

  First came sixteen archers, one behind the other, in two lines, eachman at a convenient distance from the other. They wore armor made ofplates of black horn fastened together by stitches of red wool. Twoswords were thrust through their sashes, barbed arrows extended abovetheir shoulders, and in their hands they held huge bows of black andgold lacquer. Behind them came a body of servants bearing long staffstufted with silk. Then appeared Tartar musicians, whose advent wasannounced by a joyous racket. Metallic vibrations of the gong soundedat intervals, mingled with drums beaten vigorously, shuddering cymbals,conch-shells giving out sonorous notes, shrill flute-tones, and blastsof trumpets rending the air, formed such an intensity of noise, thatthe nearest spectators winked and blinked, and seemed almost blinded.

  After the musicians came, borne on a high platform, a giganticcrawfish, ridden by a bonze. Flags of every hue, long and narrow,bearing the arms of the city, and held by boys, swung to and fro aboutthe enormous crustacean. Following, were fifty lancers, wearing roundlacquer hats, and carrying on their shoulders a lance trimmed witha red tassel. Two servants led next a splendidly caparisoned horse,whose mane, drawn up above his neck, was braided and arranged like arich fancy trimming. Standard-bearers marched behind this horse; theirbanners were blue, and covered with golden characters. Then advancedtwo great Corean tigers, with open jaws and bloodshot eyes. Childrenin the crowd screamed with fright; but the tigers were of pasteboard,and men, hidden in their paws, made them move. A monstrous drum, ofcylindrical form, followed, borne by two bonzes; a third walked besideit and struck the drum incessantly with his clenched fist.

  Finally came seven splendidly dressed young women, who were receivedwith merry applause. These were the most famous and most beautifulcourtesans of the town. They walked one after the other majestically,full of pride, each accompanied by a maid, and followed by a man whoheld a large silken parasol over her. The people, who knew them well,named them as they passed.

  "There's the woman with the silver teal!" Two of those birds wereembroidered on the large loose-sleeved cloak which she wore over hermany dresses, whose collars were folded one above the other upon herbreast. The cloak was of green satin, the embroidery of white silk,mixed with silver. The fair one's headdress was stuck full of enormoustortoise-shell pins, forming a semicircle of rays around her face.

  "That one there, that is the seaweed woman!"

  The beautiful growth, whose silken roots were lost in the embroideriesof the cloak, floated out from the stuff and fluttered in the wind.

  Then came the beauty with the golden dolphin; the beauty with thealmond-blossoms; the beauties with the swan, the peacocks, and the bluemonkey. All walked barefooted upon high clogs made of ebony, whichincreased their apparent height. Their heads bristled with shell-pins,and their faces, skilfully painted, seemed young and charming under thesoft shadow of the parasol.

  Behind these women marched men bearing w
illow-branches; then a wholearmy of priests, carrying on litters, or under pretty canopies withgilded tops, the accessories, ornaments, and furniture of the temple,which was purified during the progress of the procession.

  After all these came the shrine of Yebis, the God of the Sea, theindefatigable fisher who spends entire days wrapped in a net, a line inhis hand, standing on a rock half submerged in the water. The octagonalroof was covered with blue and silver, bordered with a pearl fringe,and surmounted by a great bird with outspread wings. This shrine,containing the God Yebis invisible within, was borne by fifty bonzesnaked to the waist.

  Behind, upon a litter, was borne the magnificent fish consecrated toYebis, the _Akama, or scarlet lady_,--the favorite dish of all thosewho are fond of dainty fare. Thirty horsemen armed with pikes ended theprocession.

  The long train crossed the city, followed by the crowd which gatheredin its rear; it reached the suburbs, and after a long march came outupon the sea-shore.

  Simultaneously with its arrival, thousands of vessels reached the mouthof Yedogava, which wafted them gently towards the ocean. The sails werespread, the oars bit the water, banners floated on the breeze, whilethe sun flashed myriad sparkles across the blue, dancing waves.

  Fide-Yori also reached the shore by the road that skirts the riverbank; he stopped his horse and sat motionless in the midst of hissuite, which was but scanty, the Regent being unwilling to eclipse thereligious _cortege_ by the royal luxury.

  Hieyas himself was carried in a norimono, as were the mother and wifeof the Shogun. He declared himself ill.

  Fifty soldiers, a few standard-bearers, and two out-runners formed theentire escort.

  The arrival of the young Prince divided the attention of the crowd, andthe procession of Yebis no longer sufficed to attract every eye. Theroyal headdress, a sort of oblong golden cap placed upon Fide-Yori'shead, made him easily recognizable from a distance.

  Soon the religious procession filed slowly before the Shogun. Thenthe priests with the shrine left the ranks and went close down to thewater's edge.

  Upon this the fishermen and river boatmen suddenly ran up with cries,bounds, and gambols, and threw themselves upon the bearers of Yebis.They imitated a battle, uttering shouts, which grew more and moreshrill. The priests made a feigned resistance; but soon the shrinepassed from their shoulders to those of the stout sailors. The latterwith howls of joy rushed into the sea and drew their beloved godthrough the clear waves, while bands of music, stationed on the junkswhich ploughed the sea, broke into merry melody. At last the sailorsreturned to land, amidst the cheers of the crowd, who soon scattered,to return in all haste to the town, where many other diversions awaitedthem,--open-air shows, sales of all sorts, theatrical representations,banquets, and libations of saki. Fide-Yori left the beach in his turn,preceded by the two runners and followed by his train. They entereda cool and charming little valley, and took a road which, by a verygentle slope, led to the summit of the hill. This road was utterlydeserted, all access to it having been closed since the evening before.

  Fide-Yori thought of the plot, of the bridge which was to give way andhurl him into an abyss. He had dwelt upon it all night with anguish;but beneath this bright sun, amidst this peaceful scene, he could nolonger believe in human malice. And yet the path chosen for the returnto the palace was strange. "We will take this road to avoid the crowd,"said Hieyas; but he had only to close another way to the people, andthe King might have gone back to the castle without making this oddcircuit.

  Fide-Yori looked about for Nagato; he was nowhere to be seen. Sincemorning the Shogun had twenty times inquired for him. The Prince wasnot to be found.

  Sad forebodings seized upon the young Shogun. He suddenly askedhimself why his escort should be so scanty, why he was preceded by tworunners only. He looked behind him, and it seemed to him as if thenorimono-bearers slackened their pace.

  They reached the brow of the hill and soon Swallow bridge appeared atthe turn of the road. As his eye fell upon it, Fide-Yori involuntarilyreined in his horse; his heart beat violently. The frail bridge, boldlyflung from one hill to another, crossed a very deep valley. The river,rapid as a torrent, leaped over the rocks with a dull, continuousnoise. But the bridge seemed as usual to rest firmly upon the smoothrocks which jutted out beneath it.

  The runners advanced unshrinkingly. If the conspiracy existed, theyknew nothing of it. The young King dared not pause; he seemed to hearechoing in his ears Nagato's words: "March fearlessly towards thebridge!"

  But the beseeching tones of Omiti also thrilled through his mind herecalled the oath which he had uttered. Nagato's silence alarmed himabove all else. How many things might occur to foil the Prince's plan!Surrounded by skilful spies who watched his slightest acts, he mighthave been carried off and prevented from communicating with the King.All these thoughts rushed tumultuously into Fido-Yori's brain, the lastsupposition making him turn pale. Then, by one of those mental freaksoften noted in situations of extreme peril, he suddenly recalled a songwhich he had sung as a child, to make himself familiar with the chiefsounds of the Japanese language. He mechanically repeated it:--

  "Color and perfume fade away. What is there in this world that is permanent? The day which is passed, vanishes in the gulf of oblivion. It is like the echo of a dream. Its absence causes not the slightest distress."

  "I learned that when a mere child," murmured the King; "and yet I nowshrink and hesitate at the possibility of death."

  Ashamed of his weakness, he urged his horse forward. Just then a loudnoise was heard on the opposite side of the bridge; and, suddenlyturning the corner of the road, angry horses, with flying mane andbloodshot eyes, appeared, dragging behind them a chariot laden with thetrunks of trees. They hastened towards the bridge, and their furiousfeet rang doubly loud upon the wooden flooring.

  At the sight of these animals coming towards them Fide-Yori's wholeescort uttered cries of terror, the porters dropped their norimonos,the women jumped out of them in alarm, and, gathering up their amplerobes, fled hastily away. The runners, whose feet already touched thebridge, turned abruptly, and Fide-Yori instinctively sprang to one side.

  But all at once, like a cord which, too tightly stretched, breaks,the bridge gave way with a loud crash; it first bent in the centre,then the two fragments rose suddenly in the air, scattering a showerof pieces on every hand. The horses and the car were plunged into theriver, the water dashing in foam to the very brow of the hill. For somemoments one animal hung by his harness, struggling above the gulf; buthis bonds gave way and he fell. The tumultuous stream quickly boreto the sea horses, floating tree trunks, and all the remnants of thebridge.

  "Oh, Omiti!" cried the King, motionless with horror, "you did notdeceive me! This then was the fate reserved for me! Had it not been foryour devotion, sweet girl, my mangled body would even now be flung fromrock to rock."

  "Well, master, you possess the knowledge that you wished. What do youthink of my team?" cried a voice close beside the King.

  The latter turned. He was alone, all his servants had abandoned him;but he saw a head rising from the valley. He recognized Nagato, whoquickly climbed the stony elope and stood beside the King.

  "Ah, my friend! my brother!" said Fide-Yori, who could not restrainhis tears. "What have I ever done to inspire such hatred? Who is theunhappy man whom my life oppresses, and who would fain hurry me fromthe world?"

  "Would you know that wretch?--would you learn the name of the guiltyman?" said Nagato with a frown.

  "Do you know him, friend? Tell me his name."

  "Hieyas!" said Nagato.