Part 5 (2/2)

Was he too waking, watching, feeling himself intruder upon a soundless ritual? There was a hissing noise as of a fawn hurrying down a tangled slope. The hedge near the cliff end of the garden dipped and squeaked and shook indignant plumes after a figure that had desecrated its green guardians.h.i.+p, and was now striding ruthlessly across the enclosure.

Ume heard and saw; then wrung her hands in terror. It was he, of course,--the Dragon Painter; and he would speak with her. What could she do? Family honor must be maintained, and so she could not cry for help. Why had her heart tormented her to go into the night? Why had she not thought of this possibility? Because of it, life, happiness, everything might be wrecked, even before they had dared to think of happiness by name!

Tatsu had reached her. Leaning close he set his eyes to her face as one who drinks deep and silently.

”I must not remain. Oh, sir, let me pa.s.s!” she whispered.

He did not speak or try to touch her. A second gust of wind came from the cliff, blowing against his hand a long tress of her hair. It was warm and perfumed, and had the clinging tenderness of youth. He s.h.i.+vered now, as she was doing, and stood looking down at his hand.

Ume made a swift motion as if to pa.s.s him; but he threw out the barrier of an arm.

”I have been calling you all the night. Now, at last, you have come.

Why did you never answer me upon the mountains?”

”Indeed, I could not. I was not permitted. As you must see for yourself, lord, in this incarnation I am but a mortal maiden.”

”I do not see it for myself,” said Tatsu, with a low, triumphant laugh.

”I see something different!” Suddenly he reached forward, caught the long ends of her hair and held them out to left and right, the full width of his arms. They stood for a moment in intense silence, gazing each into the face of the other. The rim of the dawn behind them cut, with its flat, gold disc, straight down to the heart of the world.

”You a mortal!” said the boy again, exultantly. ”Why, even now, your face is the white breast of a great sea-bird, your hair, its s.h.i.+ning wings, and your soul a message that the G.o.ds have sent to me! Oh, I know you for what you are,--my Dragon Maid, my bride! Have I not sought you all these years, tracing your face on rocks and sand-beds of my hills, hanging my prayers to every blossoming tree? Come, you are mine at last; here is your master! We will escape together while the stupid old ones sleep! Come, soul of my soul, to our mountains!”

He would have seized her, but a quick, pa.s.sionate gesture of repulsion kept him back. ”I am the child of Kano Indara,” she said. ”He, too, has power of the G.o.ds, and I obey him. Oh, sir, believe that you, as I, are subject to his will, for if you set yourself against him--”

”Kano Indara concerns me not at all,” cried Tatsu, half angrily. ”It is with you,--with you alone, I speak!”

Ume poised at the very tip of the hill. ”Look, sir,--the plum tree,”

she whispered, pointing. So sudden was the change in voice and manner that the other tripped and was caught by it. ”That longest, leafy branch touches the very wall of my room,” she went on, creeping always a little down the hill. ”If you again will write such things to me, trusting your missive to that branch, I shall receive it, and--will answer. Oh, it is a bold, unheard-of thing for a girl to do, but I shall answer.”

”I should like better that you meet me here each morning at this hour,”

said Tatsu.

The girl looked about her swiftly, gave a little cry, and clasped her hands together. ”See, lord, the day comes fast. Mata, my old nurse, may already be astir. I saw a flock of sparrows fly down suddenly to the kitchen door. And there, above us, on the great camphor tree, the sun has smitten with a fist of gold!”

Tatsu gazed up, and when his eyes returned to earth he found himself companionless. He threw himself down, a miserable heap, clasping his knees upon the hill. No longer was the rosy dawn for him. He found no timid beauty in the encroaching day. His sullen look fastened itself upon the amado beneath the plum tree. The panels were now tightly closed. The house itself, soundless and gray in the fast brightening s.p.a.ce, mocked him with impa.s.sivity.

A little later, when the neighborhood reverberated to the slamming of amado and the sharp rattle of paper dusters against taut shoji panes; when fragrant f.a.ggot smoke went up from every cottage, and the street cries of itinerant venders signalled domestic buying for the day, Mata discovered the wild man in the garden, and roused her sleeping master with the news. She went, too, to Ume's room, and was rea.s.sured to see the girl apparently in slumber within a neat bed, the andon burning temperately in its corner, and the whole place eloquent of innocence and peace, Kano s.h.i.+vered himself into his day clothes (the process was not long), and hurried out to meet his guest.

”O Haiyo gozaimasu!” he called. ”You have found a good spot from which to view the dawn.”

”Good morning!” said Tatsu, looking about as if to escape.

”Come, enter my humble house with me, young sir. Breakfast will soon be served.”

Tatsu rose instantly, though the gesture was far from giving an effect of acquiescence. He shook his cramped limbs with as little ceremony as if Kano were a shrub, and then turned, with the evident intention of flight. Suddenly the instinct of hunger claimed him. Breakfast! That had a pleasant sound. And where else was he to go for food! He wheeled around to his waiting host. ”I thank you. I will enter!” he said, and attempted an archaic bow.

Mata brought in to them, immediately, hot tea and a small dish of pickled plums. Kano drew a sigh of relief as he saw Tatsu take up a plum, and then accept, from the servant's hands, a cup of steaming tea.

These things promised well for future docility.

<script>