The Breath of the Gods Part 49

In a little while she rose from her knees, drew a chair toward the opened window, and seated herself. Her eyes, instead of seeking the natural loveliness without, fell, in a new abandonment to thought, upon the great bouquets of Hanoverian roses woven in the foreign carpet at her feet. In the garden-bed just beneath her, bushes of daphne, of azalea and the golden yama-buki were in bloom. A bird, swinging on a spray of the weeping pink cherry just across the path, sang to inattentive ears. Bees droned incessantly. From the closed doors of the little office came a reflected murmur. Now from the blur of tone shot a sudden slap as of a hand struck upon a bare table. A voice cried in English, "Gentlemen! gentlemen!" and a chorus of voices, "Sh-h-h--."

Yuki caught herself back to the terrific import of the moment. What were those great men thinking and saying behind the closed doors? And what was her small single danger to the issues they represented? She walked down the west wall of the room in the direction of the office. Two low French windows, opening, indeed, to the very floor, gave upon an uncovered balcony. She parted the gla.s.s door-frames of a window and stood still, gazing outward, this way and that, down and along curved paths where suns.h.i.+ne lay like yellow silk, and flying shattered waifs of blossoms made wonderful wind-blown patterns. Her eyes clung longest to a little path just skirting a great stone lantern, for this led to certain tea-rooms at the far end of the garden. Now she walked slowly all around the room, pausing at the main door which led in from the front hallway.

Footsteps were advancing. Yuki opened to them.

"The n.o.ble Sir Onda has arrived,--father to your Highness," said Tora.

Yuki hesitated. "Does my mother accompany him?"

"No, your Ladys.h.i.+p, it is Sir Onda alone. He desires audience with my august master, but I told him I had received orders to usher all visitors directly to your presence."

"Quite right, Tora," said Yuki, trying to smile in a pleasant, unconcerned way. "Now say to my father that his Highness, Prince Hagane is absent, but may return in the s.p.a.ce of two hours. I am engaged on certain duties at my Lord's command. And, Tora--"

"Yes, your Ladys.h.i.+p."

"See that the visitor issues well into the street on leaving, and close the iron gate."

"Yes, your Ladys.h.i.+p."

The man's words and his bow had been quite as respectful as usual, perhaps a little more than usual, yet Yuki could not divest herself of the impression that there lurked a threat of comprehension, of nearness.

"When I have explained all to my prince, we shall, perhaps, send good Tora away to some country estate. I could not endure his presence if I knew he harbored such a belief, and equally impossible is it for me to condescend to self-defence," thought the young wife. In her morbid state of consciousness, she could almost see, as a clairvoyant, Tora creeping to the shoji of the tea-rooms, parting the panels with crafty, expectant fingers; she could hear his gasp of consternation, of not altogether displeased agitation, as he discovered the beautiful young foreigner asleep on the floor, as he gazed, grinning, upon the broken hairpin.

Since the butler's knock, and Yuki's few words with him, absolute silence had prevailed in the little office; the very door seemed holding its breath. Yuki heard the panel pushed cautiously to one side, and knew that her husband listened. She went to her former place by the window.

Now the bees outside, and the buzz of human voices within, recommenced.

Into the latter crept vivacious exclamation. The clink of gla.s.ses arose, and now the sharp detonation of a match; more than once a smothered laugh was heard. Yuki sat by the window in apparent calm; her agony of suspense would soon be over. Those were the sounds that come at the end of an important conference, not in the midst of it. She clenched her little hands together within gray sleeves, and faced the office-door, to be in readiness with her smile when the grave procession should emerge.

Another ten minutes elapsed, and another; the garden shadows gained visibly in length. Like a little image of propriety, she sat, and, for all her preparation, a small s.h.i.+ver pa.s.sed along her frame as the office-door at last went flying aside.

So set had been her eyes, her thoughts, upon this door, that she had not heard the sound of stealthy footsteps without or the soft brus.h.i.+ng aside of cl.u.s.tered shrubs. Pierre stood, bareheaded, under the weeping cherry.

The drooping branches, each set along its entire length in single pink amethysts of bloom, enclosed him as in a fountain. The lower part to his knees was hidden in waves of yama-buki. The wind, now rising, concealed with tossing sprays his trembling nook.

First the doors of the office, then the thick portieres had been flung aside by Prince Hagane. The notable company filed in, the j.a.panese not forgetting the slight, ceremonial bow to Hagane, who stood smiling to let them pa.s.s. The last to emerge was Minister Todd. He bore in his hand a paper folded and sealed. Hagane kept close behind him. As the rest of the company came forward, making adieux to the flushed and dignified little hostess, these two stood apart, talking in low tones. Todd now and again tapped the paper by way of emphasis.

Pierre, crouching among the sprays of yama-buki, saw and heard it all.

His fever and madness were, for the moment, things that had not been.

The price he would later pay for this immunity did not trouble him now.

He seemed all mind and spirit and keen intelligence, with no enc.u.mbering body. Nothing was impossible. He would scarcely have been surprised had he begun to drift toward that inner room without effort, as one sometimes drifts in dreams, and to enter unperceived by any one but Yuki. There she stood, his sweetheart, his promised bride, kept from him by that great monster who towered near and kept talking to the thin American, and kept tapping a paper that bore a great seal, red like blood. It should be blood, Pierre thought, with a slight rise in his excitement,--the blood of that old toad who had cheated him of this flower. But did a toad have blood at all? Well, there was a way to find out! When the American left he would steal in, a new St. George pursuing an uglier dragon. He felt now feverishly in his pockets for a knife, a pistol. He remembered now that the pistol, a pretty toy of silver and pearl given him by a Parisian actress, had been left at the French Legation. A moment after, reason again grasped him. He smiled bitterly, calling himself a child, a fool. Nothing could be worse for France or Yuki either than the death of Hagane at his hands. Some other way must be found. The j.a.panese themselves had a saying, "If you hate a man, let him live." Yes, let the old man live. Yuki's true lover could yet win her, undrenched in any blood. That paper now,--if he could secure such a paper--Hagane would give any price for such a paper!

All the guests had gone but Mr. Todd. He smiled down at Yuki and said, "Well, little girl, I guess Uncle Sam has done your country a good turn."

"Madame la Princesse is not burdened by me with state secrets, your Excellency," interposed Hagane, with more than his wonted haste.

"I understand. I sha'n't say more," laughed the other. "What was it, Yuki, that you tried to tell us just before the meeting?"

Yuki now could afford to smile and look demure; her danger was over. The great strong rock of Hagane's presence was near. "The need is past now, I thank you, Mr. Todd," she said.

"Good-bye, both of you. You're looking mighty young and happy, Prince, if there are hard struggles in the nation!"

He was gone. Yuki, glancing upward to her husband, was surprised and then herself embarra.s.sed to note signs of discomfiture on that bronze countenance. Was it possible that Todd's light words could move him?

Yuki went closer still. She could not meet his eyes, but, oh, the restfulness, the relief in his splendid nearness! Her explanation rushed to her lips and hung there. After the manner of good wives, she must first show interest in what was uppermost in his thoughts, and afterward could gently incline him to her own desire.

"Is that the very wonderful paper just signed, Lord?" she asked, putting up a hand.

Hagane glanced at the doc.u.ment, then bent to his wife the look she dreaded, yet longed for. Under it she stirred and quivered. "You are a white flower," said Hagane. "Do you really care to know?"

"I--I--wish not to be disrespectfully inquisitive," stammered Yuki, "only, if the importance is so great, is there not danger to your august person in bearing it about?"

Again Hagane smiled. His young wife hung her crimsoning face. He put out an arm and caught her to him. "Is that your fear--you thing of snow and plum-blossom? Ah, Yuki--Yuki--you are my wife. When this time of stress and peril is at an end, I shall try to teach you something of a brighter hue than duty."

Pierre, high on his knees among the yama-buki, saw and heard it all.

"If there be danger, you must not bear it! The risk is terrible. Think, Lord, how our country needs you!" Her apprehension lifted her a little from self-consciousness. Hagane's answer was calm, steady, with a thrill in it. "Then who is to bear it, small sweet wife, if I should put it down? But, no, there must be no thought of thee and me--not yet. I belong to the land. In all haste must I take the paper to our Imperial Lord. Every moment means a danger. Ring instantly for the carriage,--I must go!"

"The single horse coupe is now being repaired," said Yuki, in a troubled tone, "and, more unfortunate, one of the pair of carriage-horses is ill; but I can order your kuruma with two runners."

"Unfortunate," echoed Hagane, in a lower tone, "yet such small annoyances beset the way of all. Ring for my stoutest kuruma, Yuki, and have three runners. They will bear me as swiftly as any horse."

"Lord," faltered Yuki, not moving from him, "you a.s.sured me that after the meeting I should have speech with you. The matter is indeed of importance, perhaps of great danger."

"Well, I will listen, child, if you can be brief. But first touch the bell and give my order."

Yuki went across the room from him. He, frowning slightly at the delay, stood as he had been standing, his back squarely to the office-door, his left shoulder toward the opened French window. Yuki, not ten yards before him, had reached the wall where the electric b.u.t.ton was set. She raised a slim hand to it, but before she could press it, a certain flicker as of an animated shadow moving in the room behind Hagane drew her curious and anxious glance. The outstretched arm fell, paralyzed.

She attempted to speak, to cry aloud, but her throat had turned to cork.

Pierre Le Beau was creeping into the room like a thief, a cat, skirting the wall in the direction of the office-door. He caught her frozen stare of terror, and made a defiant gesture, commanding silence.

Hagane raised his head. The delay puzzled him. He had been examining again the crimson seal. The look on his wife's face, come with such terrific suddenness, sent something almost like fear through his heart.

He thrust the paper in his breast, and turned to scan the room. Pierre was in the safe shelter of the columnar, ma.s.sed portiere.

Yuki clawed and mowed her way through a jungle of fire toward her lord.

"Master, master!" she whispered hoa.r.s.ely. She could say no more, and fell p.r.o.ne on her knees before him, reaching upward for his grasp.

"What ails you, child? In the name of Shaka, what has hurt you?" He bent to raise her, but she grovelled, eluding his hands.

"I am ill, very ill; let us go quickly to our chamber," she managed to choke out. Now she fluttered backward, luring him, like a wounded bird, her long, gray sleeves trailing after.

"In Shaka's name!" he cried again, "I cannot understand the suddenness."

Pierre now left the portiere, and stole softly toward the bent back of the prince. Yuki thought him mad, with a new strength and cunning of murderous intent. She sprang up to her feet, hurling all her slight weight against Hagane with such force that he swerved. With a movement like light she had pa.s.sed him, set her back to his, and was facing Pierre. "Here--here--kill me--not him--" she panted. "I am ready; I do not fear. See how white my breast and soft! Oh, blood will look so pretty here,--like the red seal!" She tore aside the dove-gray folds of her gown.

Hagane, wheeling to them, half drew the paper from his breast. The Frenchman saw, and as Hagane turned, lowered his head so that his face might still be hidden, reached out a hand, and, with one demon-directed dart of the nervous fingers had touched, had clutched, had wrenched away the long white screed of fate that bore a single drop of blood.

For one awful crash of time, the solid earth split beneath the statesman's feet. Pierre had gone through the low window like a breeze, and his flying track through the shrubs stirred them scarcely more.

Hagane staggered as his mind confirmed this strange, annihilating loss.

A moment more and he was again calm master of his fate. He took Yuki by a shoulder, held her from him, and scorching her eyes with the scorn of his, said steadily, "So this is what ailed you, Princess Hagane! Why did you give no warning? Tell me the name of the thief."

Yuki blinked and moved her head backward and forward through the air.

She put up a hand to her throat of cork, and smoothed it.

"Answer me, Yuki, who was that man?"

She did not answer. Suddenly she sagged to his feet, wrapping her long gray sleeves about his ankles. "Oh, Master, do not kill him! He is a very sick person, yes! I will get the paper for you, Lord. I will get it for you, I will get it!" she chattered in English. Why, at this central crisis of her life, she should have spoken English to a j.a.panese was something that she never understood.