The soldier still laughed.
"The spirit of all the goddesses thrives in you!"
And he touched her gently.
"But the gods may send it to me soon--the great crimson death."
"Then," answered the little girl, "I can die the great death, too, and still be with you--if you should wish!"
"What!" laughed Shijiro, anew, "little you--gentle Yone--in the wild glory of the conflict, with a plunge into the fires of all the hells, in the madness of carnage, with a yell frozen on your lips? Shall little _you_ experience that arch esctasy: your death-wound spurting your own warm blood into your own face? Then out, out, out into the eternal solitude and silence of souls awaiting other reincarnations? To that place called Meido? Ha ha, my fragile Yone, the great red death--is not for you--not for perfumed little Yone's. It is a man's death!"
At this she was reproved, but as he always reproved her, very gently.
Yet it was wonderful that his gentleness held here. She understood well her presumption in wishing to die the great death of a man.
"Pardon, small lord," she said humbly. "I spoke when I had not counted three--instead of nine."
He laughed happily.
"Speak whatever comes to your lips. All is good, because it comes from them--which are all good. But when you speak of the things which are a man's, I look at your stature and--laugh! I tell you what is yours--little Yone--and what is mine!"
She tried to forget that he was not much taller than she.
"No, forgive me; I must die only the small, white death of women and children. But, until it comes, I shall be here where you and I were happy together. And if you die, still caring for me, your spirit will come and touch me, as you said. That much I know. You have said it! But if you have forgotten, then there will be no touches; then I will still wait until I die. It will not be long."
"Little one," said Arisuga, in pity, "we have lived and loved together here. All has been good. But it is as a splendid summer day which one forgets, in the glow, the madness of glory, the moment the call comes!
This we did not know, the madness of glory, and I had never thought to learn. But it has come, and it is greater than all love. Should the call sound now, I would leave you where you stand, and go upon the business of our sovereign. As it is," he laughed, "we shall once more go homeward hand in hand!"
And so they did. But still it was not as before. It never could be. As he had said, this madness of glory had obscured all love.
YONe
VI
YONe
The war with China got slowly into the air. Troops were mobilizing. The Guards were being fitted with uniforms for a warmer climate. The army was thrilled with that nameless thing which speaks of action to the soldier. Maps and plans of campaign grew over night. Nurses were gathered where they could be most easily requisitioned. Plans for hospital and transportation service were born and matured as certainly now, as if the army had lived in an atmosphere of war instead of peace for many years. But when the actual going came near, Arisuga thought of Yone. There would be no more of that. And when it was said, a certain sadness came and stayed with him, when the glory dulled a little. For it had been sweet. And it might be only once again. Marching orders were imminent.
So that, though it was even, and Yone might not go out in the even, he found her one day, when the sadness came, and they stole through the house's rear to that tomb of Esas in Shiba, where they had made a seat of stone and moss. They had never before been alone together in the wood at night, and Yone was terrified, as a maid ought to be, while Arisuga was brave, as a soldier should be.
Yet, notwithstanding these adverse circumstances, it was there--at the tomb of Esas, on this night of nights to Yone--that they made together that song of "The Stork-and-the-Moon." And it was on this night, while they sang it (without the samisen, for Yone was reposing too snugly against one of Arisuga's arms for him to play, though they had the samisen with them), that the watchman came with lantern and staff and cried out that he had heard a song in that place of sacred tombs--a foolish, worldly song--and adjured the sinners to come forth and be punished.
Now both were frightened suddenly, and Yone crept deeply into the arms of her soldier for protection. And she did not vacate her place of safety when the watchman had passed on; Arisuga prevented her.
For he had not in the least fancied how sweet that might be. And her fancies had fallen short of truth. And yet other things passed there at that tomb of Lord Esas which I shall not stop to tell.
Later, perhaps, in this story, there may be occasion to tell what happened there at the tomb of Lord Esas on the seat of stones and mosses they had made: the promises,--if there were any,--the song, and all the joy of that night upon which little Yone would have to live until Arisuga came again--for this was indeed all he left to her.
It was a disgraceful hour when they stole forth. And had the watchman seen them then, the gods alone know what the penalty would have been.
They passed the walls safely; but there was yet before them the reentry to the house of Yone, which was more terrible. Yet they were strangely happy in their terrors, though Yone expected, hoped, to be disowned and driven from home, disgraced in the eyes of the world. But also, in that case, Arisuga would marry her. Chivalry would demand it. Of course he had not exactly said so. In order that he might have the opportunity, Yone protested:--
"I do not regret--not a word, not a thing!"
"No, it is my fault--"
"If they drive me from home, outcast me, I shall sing in the streets!"
"You!"
"Or go to Geisha street."
"You!"
"What, then, will I do, lord?"
"You will marry me--a little sooner than we planned, and live with my mother while I fight."
"Yes," breathed Yone, quite content with this. It was more than she had expected. Indeed, she was so filled with content that it was all she could say.
Nevertheless, though this event had been arranged there behind the tomb, under the influence of the terror of the watchman, yet its consummation was put a long time off, for the parents of each had to be consulted, cunningly, as if it had not at all been arranged. And this marred Yone's happiness a trifle; for, if marriage was anything like that behind the tomb, it could not come too soon. And, however soon it might come, it would not be soon enough, for soon enough was now, and that was passing.
Besides, she hoped it might happen before his sacrifice; for though she would then be his widow and quite sure of his spirit, that first personal contact by the tomb of old Lord Esas had been sweet.
However, there seemed, happily, no way of escape from an outcasting and the consequences they had fixed upon, and this grew upon them more and more as they went homeward, so that as they were yet quite happy in it they came into the vicinity of Yone's home. Now, by that time all the details had been arranged: Yone was to go to Arisuga's mother, where a complete confession would be made. Then, on the morrow, the consent of the parents would be asked, which, whether it were or were not obtained, would be the signal for the wedding preparations. For in the one case Yone would be the daughter of her parents, whose consent would have been obtained, in the other of his whose consent was sure.
Then they looked up to find themselves almost in the midst of a great fire which their absorption had kept them from noticing. And it was at once but too plain that Yone's home was in that part of the district already burned clear. Of course there were parents and brothers to think of at once, and in thought of their safety Yone forgot the opportunity for her outcasting and the hastening of her happiness. When she remembered, it was too late.
She had been pounced upon by her father, and borne in joy to the rendezvous where all the brothers and sisters, as well as the parents of Yone, were now in prosaic safety and little perturbation. Shijiro Arisuga had, upon the appearance of the father, ignominiously disappeared--which, indeed, was the best thing which could have happened for Yone, so far as her safety from scandal was concerned, and the worst so far as her wish for an immediate marriage was concerned. There was, now, not the least hope of an outcasting. No one had even seen Shijiro, it appeared, nor knew of their going away or coming back together.
"How did you escape, my pleasant daughter?" cried the happy father, embracing her.
"I do not know," said Yone, with some truth, looking furtively about for Arisuga.
"And fully dressed?" asked the father again.
With a sigh of disgust, Yone answered again that she did not know.
"It was an interposition of the gods."
"Yes," sighed Yone, in her heart, "I suppose it was an interposition of the infernal gods."
For Shijiro was undoubtedly gone, not at once to return.