They went farther into the wood.
A few lanterns swung from the trees, sheltered from the wind by a couple of shields. Iwakura and Raiden walked over straw brought from the tents by people going to and fro.
At intervals stood a soldier bearing a long lance, a quiver on his back, erect and motionless; behind the trees, in the half-open tents, sat other soldiers drinking or sleeping. Beyond, all was thick darkness.
Hieyas' tent was pitched in the centre of an open glade, which had been cleared into a square space, hung round with scarlet draperies suspended from pikes. Over the tent floated a large banner, streaming and fluttering in the wind; two archers leaned against either side of the opening. The messengers were ushered in.
Hieyas sat upon a folding-chair. He seemed bowed by age, bent nearly double, his head resting on his breast, his lower lip hanging, his eyes pale and moist. From his attitude and dull look no one would have guessed at the powerful genius and tenacious will within that weak and hideous form. Yet the spirit watched, clear and bright, wearing out the body, and enduring fatigue with heroic indifference.
"News from Osaka?" he said. "Speak! be quick!"
The letter was handed to him, and he opened it hurriedly.
The wind blew into the tent, making the flame flicker in the lanterns as they hung from the central tent-pole. The forest rustled angrily, and the sound of the sea breaking on the beach was plainly heard.
Hieyas showed nothing of the emotion which he felt on reading General Attiska's letter. He beckoned to several officers standing in the tent, and handed them the despatch. Then he turned to the messengers, saying: "Did Attiska give you a verbal message besides this letter?"
Before Raiden could answer, several men entered the tent.
"Master!" cried a soldier, "here are more messengers, all coming at the same moment from different points."
"Well! well!" said Hieyas, "let them come forward." One of the new-comers advanced and knelt. He carried something under his cloak.
"Illustrious lord," he said, in a firm, triumphant tone, "I come from the castle of Tosa. I bring you, in my master's name, the head of the Prince of Nagato."
This time Hieyas could not hide his emotion. His lips trembled; he extended his quivering hands with senile eagerness.
Raiden gave a start when he heard the messenger's words; but the Prince, with a sign, ordered him to be silent.
"I'm curious to see that head," muttered the sailor.
The man uncovered a bag of braided straw, closed at one end by a rope, and untied it.
Hieyas directed a lantern to be brought, saying: "Is it really true? is it really true? I cannot believe it."
The envoy drew the head from the bag. It was rolled in a piece of red silk, which seemed dyed with blood. The wrapper was removed; then Hieyas took the head in his hands and rested it on his knees. A man standing beside him threw the full light of the lantern upon it.
The head was so pale that it seemed made of marble; the jet-black hair, knotted on top of the skull, shone with bluish lustre; there was a slight frown upon the brow; the eyes were closed; a mocking smile contracted the discolored lips.
"If the Prince were not by my side, I should swear that that head was cut from his shoulders," said the astonished Raiden.
Nagato, painfully moved, seized the sailor's hand in a nervous grasp.
"My poor Sado!" he muttered; "loyal unto death, as you promised!"
Hieyas, his head bent, gazed greedily at the head upon his knees.
"It is he! it is he!" said the Usurper; "he is vanquished at last, he is dead, the man who lavished so many insults upon me, and who always escaped my vengeance! Yes, there you lie, motionless and frightful to look upon, you whom every woman's eye followed with a sigh, whom every man secretly envied and strove to imitate. You are even paler than your wont; and despite the scornful expression which your features still retain, you can no longer scorn any one; your glance will no longer cross mine, like the meeting of hostile swords; you can no longer stand in my path. You were a noble soul, a great mind, – I acknowledge that; unfortunately you did not see how disinterested my projects were, and how useful to the country. You devoted yourself to a lost cause, and I was forced to crush you."
"Indeed!" muttered Raiden.
The messenger then described the Prince's capture and execution.
"His arms were taken from him!" exclaimed Hieyas; "he was not allowed to kill himself?"
"No, your lordship, he was beheaded alive; and up to the moment that his head fell, he never ceased to insult his victor."
"Tosa is a zealous servant," said Hieyas, with a shade of irony.
"He is an infamous wretch," murmured the Prince of Nagato, "and he shall bitterly expiate his crime. I will avenge you, brave Sado!"
"How cold death is!" said Hieyas, his hands growing chill at the touch of that pale flesh; he turned, and gave Sado's head to one of the officers standing near him. "Tosa may ask me what he will," he added, addressing the envoy; "I can refuse him nothing. But there was another messenger; what tidings does he bring?"
The second messenger advanced, and prostrated himself in his turn.
"Yet another piece of good news, master," said he; "your soldiers have taken Fusimi, and are about to begin the attack on Kioto."
At these words Nagato, who still held Raiden's hand, pressed it so violently that the poor fellow almost screamed.
"Attack Kioto! What does that mean?" whispered the Prince, with horror.
"If that is so," said Hieyas, rubbing his hands, "the war will soon be over. The Mikado once in our power, Osaka must fall of its own accord."
"We must be off," said the Prince, in Raiden's ear.
"Hieyas is just dismissing the messengers," said Raiden.
As they raised the drapery which enclosed the tent, a red glow lighted up the woods.
"What is that?" asked Hieyas.
Several officers left the tent to inquire. A vast flame arose in the direction of the sea; the wind fanned it, and brought the sound of crackling, snapping wood.
"What can be burning on that shore?" was the cry. "There are no villages that way."
"It is some boats," said a man, who came running in.
"Our boats!" sighed Raiden; "well, that's nice!"
"No one knows where they came from; all at once they were seen stranded on the beach."
"Are there many of them?"
"Some fifty. We went up to them; they were empty. Those large boats, well equipped, struck us as suspicious."
"We thought of Soumiossi."
"So we set fire to them; now they're blazing brightly."
"What a pity! what a pity!" said Raiden; "our fine boats! What shall we do?"
"Silence!" said the Prince; "let us try to get away."
"I'm afraid it won't be so easy as to enter."
They saw that they were free to roam about the camp, no one heeding them; and they moved off in search of an outlet.
"Kioto attacked, and I am here!" said the Prince, a prey to strange agitation. "Our fleet is destroyed. I need two hundred horses; where am I to get them?"
"There are plenty of them here," said Raiden; "but how are we to get hold of them?"
"We will come back with our comrades," said the Prince; "see how the horses are fastened."
"Merely by the bridle to the trunk of a tree."
"They are tied behind the tents in groups of five or six, as well as I can see in the darkness."
"Yes, master."
"We must capture them."
"We will do whatever you command," said Raiden, without objecting that it was impossible.
They had reached the edge of the woods, at the point where they had entered the camp. The sentinels were being changed, and the man who had let them in recognized them.
"Going already!" he said.
"Yes," said Raiden; "we carry orders."
"Good luck to you!" said the soldier; and he signed to his substitute to let them pass.
"Well! they almost drive us out," said Raiden, when they were in the plain.
The Prince walked quickly; they soon reached the huts. All the sailors were awake, and in great dismay. They ran to meet the Prince.
"Master, master!" they shouted, "our boats are burned. What is to become of us?"
"It was that wretch of a Hieyas who did this," cried Loo; "but I will be revenged on him."
"Have you your weapons?" asked Nagato.
"Certainly; we have our swords and our guns."
"Well, you must now show me that your courage is worthy of my confidence. We must perform an act of heroism which may cost us our lives. We must enter the camp of Hieyas, jump upon his horses, and ride towards Kioto. If we are not dead, we shall be in the sacred city before sunrise."
"Very good!" said Loo; "let us enter Hieyas' camp. I have an idea of my own."
"We will follow you," said the sailors; "our lives are yours."
"The camp is but ill guarded," said the Prince; "the undertaking may succeed. Darkness will conceal us from the eyes of our enemies; the noise of the wind in the trees will prevent them from hearing the sound of our footsteps. One thing only distresses me; that is, that we have not time to steal away the head of the brave man who died for me, that we may bury it with the respect it deserves."
"What head?" whispered Loo, to Raiden.
"I'll tell you all I know about it," whispered back the sailor.
"Let us divide," said the Prince; "we have more chance of passing unnoticed, singly. If we can meet again, it will be on the other side of the wood. May the Kamis protect us."
The sailors dispersed. The darkness was profound, and they disappeared abruptly.
Loo lingered behind with Raiden, to question him in regard to what he had seen in the camp. When he had heard enough, the lad escaped, and ran before. He had a plan, – indeed he had two, since he had learned the story of the severed head: he meant to carry off that head, and then to be avenged for the firing of the boats. It was child's play for him to slip into the camp unseen. He had the soft tread of a cat; he could leap, glide, and creep on all fours, without stirring a blade of grass; he would not have waked a watch-dog. The lights in the camp guided him; he ran straight towards the edge of the wood; he wanted to be the first to enter. He was almost upon the sentinel before he saw him; but he fell flat on his face. The man did not see him; as soon as the guard had gone, the boy passed on.
"Here I am," said he, squeezing through a thicket; "the worst is over now."
The wind still blew; vivid flashes of lightning now and then filled the night.
"Ah, God of Storms!" said Loo, as he ran along on all fours under the trees, "you're behaving very badly. Strike your gongs as much as you like, but put out your lantern. As for you, Futen, Spirit of the Wind, blow, blow! harder still!"
With the exception of the sentinels, the whole camp slept; when the wind died away, at internals the regular breathing and occasional snores of the men could be heard. Loo took his way, by Raiden's directions, to Hieyas' tent. He reached it, and recognized the red draperies which formed a wall around the tent. Two archers stood before the entrance. Above them, on posts, hung lanterns.
"Yes, yes! stare out to sea at the dying flames of our burning boats," said Loo; "that will keep you from seeing me."
He slipped under the hangings, flattening himself against the earth; but to reach the tent, he had still a large, light, open space to cross. He hesitated a moment, and cast a glance at the archers.
"Their backs are towards me," said he; "besides, I believe they are asleep at their posts."
He rose, and swiftly gained the edge of the canvas; then he glided in. A blue lantern lit up the interior of the tent. Hieyas, stretched on a silken mattress, the upper part of his body raised by a number of cushions, slept a troubled sleep; sweat stood in beads upon his brow; he breathed heavily.
Loo raised his eyes to the aged Regent, and made a grimace at him; then he looked about the tent. On a mat, not far from his master, slept a servant. A writing-case and a few cups of rare porcelain were placed on a low stool of black wood; in one corner, a complete suit of mail, sinking under its own weight, produced the effect of a man chopped up into pieces. A large red lacquer chest, upon which were raised in relief the three chrysanthemum-leaves, Hieyas' crest, caught the light and glittered. Against this box rested the straw sack containing Sado's head. Hieyas desired to keep it till the next day, to display it to all his soldiers.
Loo guessed that the head must be in this bag; he crawled to it and opened it; but at that instant Hieyas awoke. He uttered several groans of distress, wiped his forehead, and took a little of a drink prepared for him. The boy hid behind the chest, and held his breath. Soon the old man fell back upon his cushions and dozed again. Then Loo drew the head from the bag, and made off with it. He was hardly out of the tent when shouts of alarm sounded on every hand. The neighing of horses and the shock of arms were heard above the continual rustling of the trees in the wind.
Hieyas waked a second time; and rising all breathless from the sudden start, drew aside the hangings which shut in the tent. A flash of lightning dazzled him; then he saw nothing but intense darkness. But soon, by the light of a fresh flash, longer and more brilliant than the first, he saw, with awful horror, the man whom he supposed dead, whose lifeless head he had held in his hands but a short time since, the Prince of Nagato, sword in hand, pass by on a horse which seemed to Hieyas to make no sound.
His enfeebled nerves, his mind overwrought by fever, prevented him from reacting against this superstitious terror; his strength of mind forsook him; he uttered a frightful cry. "A ghost! a ghost!" he yelled, spreading fear throughout the entire camp. Then he fell heavily to the ground, unconscious. He was thought to be dead.
Some of his officers also recognized the Prince of Nagato, and no less alarmed than Hieyas, put the climax to the confusion in the ranks.
The cry, "A ghost!" ran from mouth to mouth. The soldiers, who had come out at the shout of alarm, fled precipitately back to their tents.
Some one, of more heroic mould, proposed examining the bag, to see if the head was still there. When he found that it had vanished, this unbeliever set up a frightful howl. Confusion was at its height; all the men fell on their faces, loudly invoking the Kamis, or Buddha, according to their special form of faith.
The Prince of Nagato and his men were much surprised at the greeting they received; but they took advantage of it, and traversed the wood undisturbed. When they were on the other side of the grove, they waited for one another; then counted their numbers. Not one was missing; all were on horseback.
"Truly, the Kamis protect us," said the sailors; "who would have thought the expedition would turn out so well!"
"And that we should be taken for ghosts!"
They were about to resume their journey, when Raiden suddenly exclaimed: "But where is Loo?"
"That's true," said the Prince; "he's the only one who has not returned."
"And yet he started first," said Raiden.
They waited a few moments.
"Unfortunately," said the Prince, "the duty which calls me suffers no delay. We must go; but it is with pain that I abandon that faithful boy."
Abandon Loo, the delight of all, – he who reminded the fathers of their children, – the scornful little hero, somewhat cruel, but fearless, and always gay! They set out with aching hearts; all sighed.
"What can have happened to him? Perhaps he has lost his way in the darkness," said Raiden, looking constantly back.
They had gone on for perhaps ten minutes, when those who were behind thought they heard a hurried gallop. They stopped and listened. A horse was indeed coming; shouts of laughter were soon mingled with the hoof-beats. It was Loo.
"Raiden!" he shouted, "come and catch me; I shall fall. I can't stand it any longer; I've laughed too hard?"
Raiden hastened back to meet the boy.
"Well," said he, "so here you are! Why did you lag behind so long? You gave us a great fright."
"Because I had a great deal to do," said Loo; "you got through your work before I did."
"What have you been about?"
"Take that first," said Loo, offering Raiden the severed head; "it 'a as heavy as lead."
"What! so you contrived to get hold of that?"
"Yes," said Loo, who kept looking behind him; "and they think down yonder that it started off on its travels alone; and so they're all half crazed with fear."
They now put their horses to the gallop, to catch up with the Prince and his companions.
"Has the boy come back?" asked Nagato.
"Yes, master; and he brings you the head of the man who looked so much like you," cried Raiden, with a sort of paternal pride.
"That's not all I did," said Loo, still looking back; "see the pink light yonder? Shouldn't you think the sun was rising?"
"The sky is really illumined," said the Prince; "I should say it was the reflection from some fire."
"That's just what it is," said Loo, clapping his hands; "the woods are burning."
"You set them on fire!" cried Raiden.
"Did I not swear to avenge our fine boats, which lie in ashes on the beach?" said Loo, with much dignity.
"How did you manage it? Tell us all about it," said the sailor.
"Ah!" cried Loo, "I never laughed so much in my life! I had no sooner stolen the martyr's head than I heard shouts and cries in all directions. Then I looked for a horse to be ready for flight. Still, I had no idea of running away yet. When I had mounted the beast of my choice, I broke off a pitchy bough, and lit it at a lantern, which I unhooked and threw into the straw of the horse's litter. That straw kindled at once, and the wind fanned my torch to a flame. I started off, setting fire to everything as I went. To my great surprise the soldiers, instead of springing upon me and wringing my neck, fell on their knees when they saw me, stretched out their hands to me, and entreated me to spare them; some taking me for Tatsi-Maki, the dragon of the Typhoons, others for Marisiten, fancying that my horse was the wild boar upon which the God of Battles rides. I nearly split my sides with laughter; and the more I laughed the more frightened they were. So I came through the forest at my ease, firing here a banner, there a dead tree or a bundle of fodder."
"I never could have believed that an army could be so alarmed by a child!" cried Raiden, laughing heartily in his turn.
"If you had seen them," said Loo, "how they stuttered and shook! And well they might; for every one of them thought that a ghost had stretched out his arm and waved a sword at Hieyas, who instantly fell dead."
"Yes," said Nata; "they took us for a legion of ghosts."
The light of the burning forest spread across the sky to the zenith. The Prince turned his head and gazed.
"Loo," said he, "I am daily thankful that I brought you with me; you have the daring of a hero, and a lion's heart in your frail body. These exploits deserve a splendid reward. I give you the title of Samurai."
On hearing this, Loo was speechless with emotion. He looked at Raiden, as he ambled along by his side; then suddenly threw himself into his arms.
At the Prince's order, several men dismounted and dug a grave with their swords by the roadside, to bury the head of the brave Sado.
"We will come and fetch it later on, and pay it fitting honors," said the Prince.
Stones were piled on the grave when it had been filled up, to mark it.
"Now," said the Prince, "let us hasten; we must be at Kioto before day dawns."
They set off at a gallop, a few men going before as scouts.
The Prince also outrode the rest of his party. He wanted to be alone, to hide his emotion and his anxiety. He had not dreamed; the messenger had indeed told Hieyas that the attack on Kioto was about to begin. Attack the sacred capital of the Mikados! Lay hands on the divine person of the Son of the Gods! Nagato could not credit such sacrilege. Moreover, the idea that the Kisaki was in danger overwhelmed him. She, insulted in her sovereign power by one of her subjects, alarmed by battle-cries, by the sound of war, perhaps constrained to fly! The thought put him into a frantic rage. He was surprised that he had not sprung at Hieyas' throat, to strangle him with his own hands when he spoke of Kioto.
"I pitied and respected his age," thought he; "does such a man merit pity?"
And yet, amidst these feelings of anger and dismay, he could not repress a sense of deep joy. To be near her, to see her again, once more to hear that voice, of whose accents his ears were ever greedy! Was it possible? His bosom swelled; a smile hovered on his lips; he saw only her.
"It is Destiny that directs me," he said. "Fate prevented me from going far from Kioto; a presentiment warned me that she would need me."
How did he hope to defend the sacred city against forces which were undoubtedly large? He could not have told himself. Yet he did not doubt that he should triumph over his adversaries, however many they might be. There are sovereign wills which rule events, which carry away the combatants in battle, exalt their courage, render them terrible. The Prince of Nagato felt such an irresistible determination within his breast. To save her, he felt as if he could scatter an army single-handed.