"I am told," he said, "that a nobleman was attacked and wounded last night on the Kioto road. I do not yet know the name of this noble; but perhaps the Prince of Nagato, who was at Kioto last night, heard something of this adventure?"
"Ah! you know that I was at Kioto," muttered the Prince; "then I understand why there were assassins on my path."
"How could Nagato be at Osaka and at Kioto at one and the same time?" asked the Prince of Satake. "There is nothing talked of this morning but the water-party which he gave last night, and which ended so merrily with a fight between the lords and the sailors from the shore."
"I even got a scratch in the squabble," said Nagato, smiling.
"The Prince traverses in a few hours distances that others would take a day to go over," said Hieyas; "that's all. Only, he does not spare his horses; every time he comes back to the palace, his animal falls down dead."
The Prince of Nagato turned pale, and felt for the sword missing from his girdle.
"I did not suppose that your anxious care extended even to the beasts of the kingdom," said he, with an insolent irony. "I thank you in the name of my dead horses."
The Shogun, full of alarm, cast supplicating glances at Nagato. But it seemed as if the Regent's patience were proof against all trials to-day. He smiled and made no reply.
However, Fide-Yori saw that anger smouldered in his friend's soul; and dreading some fresh outburst, he put an end to the council by withdrawing.
Almost immediately one of the palace guards informed the Prince of Nagato that the Shogun was asking for him. The Prince said a pleasant word to several nobles, bowed to the rest, and left the hall without turning his head in the direction of Hieyas.
When he reached the apartments of the Shogun, he heard a woman's voice, petulant, and at the same time complaining. He caught his own name.
"I have heard all," said the voice—"your refusal to accede to the wishes of the Regent, whom you suffered to be insulted before your very eyes by the Prince of Nagato, whose impudence is truly incomparable; and the rare patience of Hieyas, who did not take up the insult from respect for you, from pity for him whom you believe to be your friend, in your ignorance of men."
Nagato recognized the speaker as the Shogun's mother, the beautiful and haughty Yodogimi.
"Mother," said the Shogun, "turn your thoughts to embroidery and dress: that is woman's sphere."
Nagato entered hurriedly, that he might not longer be an unsuspected listener.
"My gracious master asked for me," he said. Yodogimi turned and blushed slightly on seeing the Prince, who bowed low before her.
"I have something to say to you," said the Shogun.
"Then I will retire," said Yodogimi bitterly, "and go back to my embroidery."
She crossed the room slowly, rustling her trailing silken robes, and casting as she went out a singular look at Nagato, compounded of coquetry and hate.
"You heard my mother," said Fide-Yori.
"Yes," said Nagato.
"Every one is anxious to detach me from you, my friend: what can be their motive?"
"Your mother is blinded by some calumny," said the Prince; "the others see in me a clear-sighted foe, who can outwit the plots which they contrive against you."
"It was of a plot I wished to speak to you."
"Against your life?"
"Precisely. It was revealed to me in a strange fashion, and I can scarcely credit it; yet I cannot resist a certain feeling of uneasiness. To-morrow, at the feast of the God of the Sea, a bridge will give way beneath me."
"Horrible!" cried Nagato. "Do not go to the feast."
"If I stay away," said Fide-Yori, "I shall never know the truth, for the plot will not be carried out. But if I go to the feast," he added with a smile, "if the conspiracy really exist, the truth would be somewhat difficult of proof."
"To be sure," said Nagato. "Still, our doubts must be set at rest; some means must be found. Is your route fixed?"
"Hieyas has arranged it."
Fide-Yori took a roll of paper from a low table and read:—
"Yedogava Quay, Fishmarket Square, Sycamore Street, seashore. Return by Bamboo Hill and Swallow bridge.
"The wretches!" cried Iwakura; "that is the bridge swung across the valley!"
"The place would be well chosen indeed," said the Shogun.
"It must be that bridge; those crossing the countless city canals would not expose you to death by crumbling under your feet, but at the utmost to a disagreeable bath."
"True," said Fide-Yori; "and from the Swallow bridge I should be hurled upon the rocks."
"Have you full trust in my friendship for you?" asked the Prince of Nagato, after a moment's thought.
"Can you doubt it, Iwakura?" said the Shogun.
"Very well, then. Fear nothing, feign complete ignorance, let them lead the way, and march straight up to the bridge. I have thought of a way to save you, and yet discover the truth."
"I trust myself to you, friend, in perfect confidence."
"Then let me go; I must have time to carry out my scheme."
"Go, Prince; I place my life in your hands untremblingly," said the Shogun.
Nagato hastened away, first saluting the king, who replied by a friendly gesture.
[1] Noble officer in the service of a daimio or prince.
[2] Temple at Kioto containing 33,333 idols.
[3] These fish actually exist, and are valued at an immense sum, many placing it as high as a million dollars.
CHAPTER III.
FEAST OF THE SEA-GOD.
Next day, from early dawn, the streets of Osaka were full of movement and mirth. The people prepared for the feast, rejoicing in the thought of coming pleasures. Shops, the homes of artisans and citizens, opening full 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 some mischievous child struggled out of his mother's arms, while she was trying to dress him in his holiday attire, and frisked, and danced with glee upon the wooden stairs leading from the house to the road. He was then recalled with cries of pretended anger from within, the father's voice was heard, and the child returned to his mother, trembling with impatience.
Sometimes a little one would cry: "Mother, mother! Here comes the procession!"
"Nonsense!" said the mother; "the priests have not even finished dressing yet."
But still she moved towards the front of the house, and, leaning over the 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 bent at the tip from the weight of a package of letters. They went in the direction of the Shogun's residence.
Before the barber's shops the crowd was thicker than elsewhere; the boys could not possibly shave all the chins presented, or dress all the heads offered. Customers awaiting their turn chatted gayly outside