CHAPTER XXVI
THE NIGHTLESS CITY
Straight before her lay a wide pavement, humming with voices, lined withthree-story houses that glowed with iron-hooped lanterns of red, yellowand green, and tinkled with the music of _samisen_. From their gailylighted _shoji_ swathes of warm, yellow light fell on the _kimono'd_figures of men strolling slowly up and down. A little way off rose asquare tower, with a white clock-face, illumined by a circle of electricbulbs. Narrower streets, also innocent of roadway, crossed at rightangles and at mathematical intervals. They were starry with lamps thathung in long projecting balconies ornamented with grill and carved work.From these came the shrieking sounds of music and an indescribableatmosphere of frivolity, of obvious dedication to some flippant cult.
In and out of these side streets flowed a multitude of boys and men, inunbelted summer robes of light colors, lazily vivacious, moving onnaked, clogged feet, making the air a bluish haze of cigarette smoke. Inthe blazing dusk they suggested the populace of some crowded Spastrolling to the pools in flowing bath-robes and straw hats. On some ofthe far balconies Barbara could see women leaning, in ornate costumes,smoking tiny pipes. Here and there girls strolled past her, for the mostpart in couples, gaudily clad, their cheeks white with rice-powder,their lips carmined, their blue-black hair wonderfully coaxed andpomaded into shining wings and whorls, thrust through with many jeweledhair-pins, like slim daggers. They jested freely with the men theypassed, laughing continually with low voices. In a doorway a slim girl,dressed in deep red, gleefully tickled with one bare foot the hide of ashaggy poodle vainly essaying slumber. As she went on, the crowd becamemore numerous; men's _kimono_ brushed Barbara's skirts and eyes staredat her with contemplative boldness.
"Madame!"
She felt a hand pluck her sleeve. It was a young Japanese, in foreigndress, with a shining brown derby, shining aureated teeth, and shiningsilver-handled cane. "Madame wishes a guide?" he inquired. Sherecollected him instantly as the youth who had slipped into her hand theprinted card when she had landed from the ship at Yokohama. She did notknow the name of the theater she had left, however, so shook her headand hurried on.
Without warning she emerged into the nun-like quiet of a park with anacre of growing trees and an irregular little lake that lay dark andstill under the moon. Beside it was a stretch of hard, beaten earth,seemingly a playground. Benches were set under the trees, and among themmoved or sat other girls in costumes like those she had seen on thepavement. At sight of Barbara's foreign dress some of them giggled withamusement and called to one another in repressed, laughing voices. Abell struck somewhere, and, as though this had been a signal, they allrose and departed, passing out by the way Barbara had come.
She traversed the park--to come face to face with a high palisade. Shetook a new direction, only to come again on the same barrier. The parkseemed only a part of a vast inclosure into which she had penetrated.Had this no outlet save the gate at which she had entered? Wondering,she retraced her steps to the lighted pavement. She was puzzled now, andturned into one of the cross streets. Its blaze of light, its movementand murmur of humanity bewildered her for a moment; then what she sawinstantly arrested her.
The lower stories of most of the abutting buildings had for fronts onlylattices of vertical wooden bars, set a few inches apart. Inside thesebars, which made strange, human bird-cages, seated on mats of brocade,or flitting here and there, were galaxies of Japanese girls, marvelouslyhabited in chameleon colors--even more brilliant than the _geisha_ shehad seen at Mukojima--like branches of iridescent humming-birds or banksof pulsing butterflies. Here and there, a foil to the fluttering cages,stretched a silent arcade brilliantly lighted and hung with women'sphotographs. Above each was fixed a placard with a name in Japanesecharacters.
What was this place into which she had strayed? She had heard of thefamous "Street-of-the-_Geisha_," where the dancers live. Had shestumbled on this in the throes of some festival? Why were there no womenon the pavements? She had seen none save those in the gaudy robes whomthe bell had called away. What was the meaning of the highpalisades?--the narrow gate with its stolid policemen?--the barred housefronts?
Projecting on to the pavement, at the side of each building, was asmall, windowed kiosk like the box-office of a theater. In the onenearest Barbara a man was sitting. His arm was thrust through thewindow, and his hand, holding a half-opened fan, tapped carelessly onits side while he chanted in a coaxing voice. Inside a man withclose-cropped gray hair strode along the seated rows, striking sharplytogether flint and steel, till a shower of gleaming sparks fell on eachhead-dress. This done, he emerged and paced three times up and down thepavement, making squeaking noises with his lips, and describing with hishands strange passes in the air. These reminded Barbara irresistibly ofa child's cryptic gestures for luck. He then struck the flat of his handsix times smartly against the door-post and retired. She noticed that hepaused at the entrance to snuff the row of candles that burned in ashrine beside it.
The whole street, with its rows of gilded cages was a gleaming vista of_tableaux-vivants_, drenched in prismatic hues. Each, Barbara noted, hadits uniform scheme of costume: one showed the sweeping lines and deep,flowing sleeves of the pre-_Meiji_ era; another the high, garnet skirtof the modern school-girl; in one the _kimono_ were of rich mauve,shading at the bottom to pale pink set with languorous red peonies; inanother, of gray crepe figured with craggy pine-trees; in a third, ofscarlet and blue, woven with gold thread and embroidered in peacockfeathers. Before each inmate's cushion sat a tiny brass _hibachi_, orfire-bowl, in whose ashes glowed a live coal for the lighting of pipesand cigarettes, and a miniature toilet-table, like a doll's-cabinet,topped by a small, round mirror. From tiny compartments now and then onewould draw a little box of rouge, a powder-puff of down, or an ivoryspicula, with which, in complete indifference to observation, she wouldheighten the vivid red of a lip, or smooth a refractory hair. Thebackground against which they posed was of heavy and exquisitelyintricate gold-lacquer carvings of stork, dragon and phoenix, ofcunningly disposed mirrors, or of draped crimson and silver weaves.Before the bars men paused to chat a moment and pass on: behind them thegorgeous robes and tinted faces flitted hither and thither with a magpiechatter, with glimpses of ringed fingers clutching the lattice, and ofnaked feet, slim and brown against the flooring.
Barbara watched curiously. She was no longer conscious that passing menstudied her furtively--that here and there, through the slender bars, adelicate hand waved daringly to her. In all the fairy-like gorgeousnessshe felt a subtle sense of repugnance that kept her feet in the middleof the pavement. She noted now that, however the costumes varied, theyagreed in one particular: the _obi_ of each inmate was tied, not at theback, but in front. It seemed a kind of badge. Somewhere she had readwhat it stood for. What was it?
A group of men passed her at the moment--foreigners, speaking anunfamiliar tongue. They talked loudly and pointed with their sticks. Oneof them observed her, and turning, said something to his companions.They looked back. One of them laughed coarsely.
At the sound, which echoed a patent vulgarity in the allusion, the bloodflew to her cheeks. The tone had told her in a flash what the palisades,the barred inclosures, the gaudy finery and reversed _obi_ had failed tosuggest. A veil was wound about her hat and with nervous haste she drewdown its folds over her face, feeling suddenly sick and hot. Driven nowby an overpowering desire to find her way out, she doubled desperatelyback to the wider street.
"Madame!"
She turned, with relief this time, to see "Mr. Y. Nakajima," the guide,of the gold fillings and silver-topped cane.
"You are lost," he said. "Come with me, and I will find you."
She bade him take her to the gate as quickly as possible and followedhim rapidly, stung with an acute longing for the noisy roadway with itscareening _rick'sha_. He was a thin, humorous-looking youth with achocolate skin and long almond eyes, from which he shot at
Barbaraglances half obsequious, half impertinent and preternaturally sly, fromtime to time making some remark which she answered as shortly as shemight.
By the arch with its lofty female figure, under the weeping willow,Barbara turned for an instant and looked back. The street seemed toher a maze of reeling lights--a blur of painted lips and drowsingeyes and ghostly sobbing of the _samisen_. Just outside the gate apilgrim-priest, his coffin-like shrine strapped on his back, wasmumbling a prayer.
The guide spoke complacently: "Japan Yoshiwara are very famed," he said."I think other countries is very seldom to have got."
"Where do they all come from?" Barbara asked suddenly. "How do they cometo be here?"
"From many village," he answered. He had raised his voice, for severalpassers-by had paused to listen inquisitively to the strange sounds, souncouthly unlike their own liquid syllabary; and he loved to display hisEnglish. "A man have a shop. Business become bad; he owe so plentymoney. He can not pay, but he have pretty daughter. Here they offermaybe two, three hundred _yen_, for one year. So she dutifully payhonorable father debt."
Barbara turned away. Again she felt the edge of mystery, bred of theunguessable divergence between the moral Shibboleths of West and East.It caught at her like the cool touch of dread that chills the strayer inhaunted places. In a hundred ways this land drew her with anextraordinary attraction; now a feeling of baffled perplexity and painmingled with the fascination. It was almost a sort of terror. If in twodays Japan offered such passionate variety, such undreamed contrasts andsubtleties, what would it eventually show to her? Could she ever reallyknow it, understand it?
"There is a theater near here where Sada Gozen is playing," she said."Can you take me there?"
He nodded. "The _Raimon-za_--the Play-House-of-the-Gate-of-Thunder. Itis more five minutes of distant."
He conducted her through a maze of narrow streets and pointed to thebuilding, which she saw with a breath of relief. Taking out her purseshe put a bill into his hand. "Thank you," she said, "and good night."
"I shall go with Madame at her hotel."
She shook her head. "I can find my way now."
"But Madame--"
"No," she said decidedly.
He stood a moment swinging his cane, looking after her with impudentalmond eyes. Then he lighted a cigarette, settled his derby at a jauntyangle and sauntered back toward the Yoshiwara.
* * * * *
Barbara came on Daunt in the middle of the block. He had stationedhimself in the roadway, towering head and shoulders above the lesserstature of the native crowds. With him was a Japanese boy who, she notedwith surprise, was Ito, one of the house-servants. Her heart jumped asshe saw the relief spring to Daunt's anxious face.
"_Mea culpa!_" she cried, and with an impulsive gesture reached out herhand to him. "What a trouble I have been to you! I was actually lost.Isn't it absurd?"
Her slim, white fingers lay a moment in his. All his heart had leaped tomeet them. In the moment of her anger he had not read its meaning, butsince then it had been given him partly to understand. His thoughtlesswords--blunderer that he was!--had seemed to carp at her like a whiningschool-boy, with cheap, left-handed satire! Yet to his memory even herhot, indignant voice had been ringingly sweet, for the stars again weregolden, and Tokyo once more fairy-land.
"What _will_ the others say!" she said. "They will have missed us longago."
"We will take extra push-men," he said, "and easily overtake them. Wecan get _rick'sha_ at the next stand."
"What did you think," she asked, as they rounded the corner, "when youfound I had vanished into thin air?"
"I imagined for a while you were punishing me. Then I guessed you hadsomehow turned into the side street. But I felt that you would find yourway back, so--I waited."
"Thank you," she said softly. "I have not acted so badly since I was achild. Are you going to shrive me?"
"I am the one to ask that of you," he replied.
"No--no! It is I. I must do penance. What is it to be?"
He looked at her steadily; his eyes shone with dark fire. In the pauseshe felt her heart throb quickly, and she laughed with a sweetunsteadiness. "I am glad you are going to give me none," she said.
"But I do," he answered, "I shall. I--"
The boy Ito, behind them, spoke his name. Daunt started with a stab ofrecollection and drew from his pocket a folded pink paper, fastened witha blue seal.
"How stupid of me! My wits have gone wool-gathering to-night. Here is atelegram for you. It came soon after we left the Embassy, and Mrs.Dandridge, thinking it might be urgent, sent Ito after us to thetea-house. He missed us, but saw me here on his way back."
Barbara broke the seal and held the message to the candle-light thatshone from a low temple entrance. She did not notice at the moment thatit was the temple of the Fox-God whose alms she had that evening denied.She had guessed who was the sender and the knowledge fell like a cool,fateful hand on her mood.
And alas, on Daunt's also. For, as she turned the leaf, his gaze,wandering through the temple doorway, to the candle-starred mirror abovethe tithe-box, had unwittingly seen reflected there, in the painfullyexact chirography of a Japanese telegraph-clerk, the signature
Austen Ware (in reverse)]
The Kingdom of Slender Swords Page 28