Part 46

“You have already said that. Do proceed.”

“He did not come.”

“Not come! Why, where—”

“You hardly give me breath to speak to-day, Masago. Do not hasten my words so. I told you that I had good news for you. Be patient, as a maiden should be, and hear my story.”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“Well, your affianced did not come. Is not that welcome news for you?”

Sado-ko smote her hands together. She had become white, and her lips were quivering.

“Why did he not come?”

Ohano shrugged her plump shoulders.

“The gods alone know why, Masago. It seems he went out early in the day before the fog arose, and—Why, how you startle me to-day!”

With a half-stifled cry the princess sprang to her feet, and stood before Ohano trembling in agitation.

“You do not mean that he has met with harm?” she cried in a horrified tone. “Oh, you sit there smiling when my heart is bursting with its fear. Why do you not explain—”

Her breath came in gasps. She could scarcely enunciate her words. Ohano stared up at her aghast.

“Shaka, Masago! You are beside yourself with most incomprehensible agitation.”

With an eloquent, piteous gesture the girl threw out her hands.

“Oh, will you not tell me what has happened to him?” she cried.

“Happened to whom? You do not mean to Junzo?”

Sado-ko nodded her head and clasped her hands.

“Who else could I mean?” she asked.

“Well, nothing that we know has happened to the man,” said Ohano. “He simply would not come to his own marriage council. The reason is most plain, I think.”

“But the fog—you spoke of it—” The girl was now upon the verge of tears.

“The fog was good excuse for his absence, Masago. Yet no one of the guests believed it was the reason he did not come; and when this morning brought a guard from Aoyama, why, even the most stupid of us all—your simple mother—knew the cause of your fiancé’s absence, and why he went to Tokyo.”

The girl repeated the words dazedly. “To Tokyo!”

“So the guard declared. He said that Junzo followed the norimon of the Princess Sado-ko down to the railway station—then—”

Ohano paused at the odd exclamation which escaped the girl.

“Sado-ko!” she said in a soft voice, then began to laugh in a strange fashion.

“Do not mind my silly laughter. I—I am not well to-day. Continue, if you please. Do not stop.”

Ohano looked concerned, but continued obediently.