The Kingdom of Slender Swords

  CHAPTER XIV

  WHEN BARBARA AWOKE

  When Barbara awoke next morning she lay for a moment staring open-eyedfrom her big pillow at the white wall above, where a hanging-shelfprojected to guard the sleeper from falling plaster in earthquake. Theroom was filled with a soft light that filtered in through thesplit-bamboo blinds. Then she remembered: it was her first whole day inJapan.

  She felt full of a gay _insouciance_, a glad lightness of joy that shehad never felt before. Slipping a thin rose-colored robe over hernightgown, she threw open the window and leaned out. The air was as pureand clean as if it had been sieved through silk, and she breathed itwith long inspirations. It made her think of the unredeemed dirt ofother countries, the sooty air of crowded factories, hardly growingfoliage and unlovely walls.

  The Embassy was a pretentious frame structure in which frequentalterations had masked an original plan. With its tall porte-cochere,its long narrow L which served as Chancery, the smaller white cottageacross the lawn occupied by the Secretary of Embassy, the ramblingservants' quarters and stables, it suggested some fine old Virginiahomestead, transported by Aladdin's genii to the heart of an orientalgarden. For the tiny rock-knoll, with its single twisted pine-tree infront of the main door, the wistaria arbor and red dwarf maples, thegreat stone lanterns, the miniature lake and pebbled rivulet spanned byits arching bridge--all these were Japanese. In the early morning theeerie witchery of the night was gone, but the sky was as deep as spaceand the air languid with the perfume and warmth of a St. Martin'ssummer. A green-golden glow tinged the camelia hedges and above them thelong cool expanse of weather-boarding and olive blinds--like a carvingin jade and old ivory.

  As she stood there bathed in the sunlight, her hands dividing thecurtains, Barbara made a gracious part of the glimmering setting. Herthick, ruddy hair sprang curling from her strongly modeled forehead, andfell about her white shoulders, a warm reddish mass against thedelicately tinted curtain. There was a thoroughbred straightness in thelines of the tall figure, in the curve of the cheek and the rounddirectness of the chin; and her eyes, bent on the lucent green, were thecolor of brown sea-water under sapphire cloud-shadows.

  From a circle of evergreens near the porte-cochere a white flag-polerose high above the treetops. The stars-and-stripes floated from itshalyards, for the day was the national holiday of an European power. Inthe hedges sparrows were twittering, and in a plum-tree a _uguisu_--thelittle Buddhist bird that calls the sacred name of the Sutras--waswarbling his sweet, slow, solemn syllables: "_Ho-kek-yo! Ho-kek-yo!_" Agardener was sweeping the pink rain of cherry-petals from the paths witha twig broom, the long sleeves of his blue _kimono_ fluttering in theyellow sunshine, and in front of the servants' quarters a little girl inflapping sandals was skipping rope with a chenille fascinator. Beyondthe wall of the compound Barbara could see the street, a low row of openshops. In one, a number of men and girls, sitting on flat mats, weremaking bamboo fans. At the corner stood a round well, from which a groupof women, barefooted and with tucked-up clothing, were drawing water inunpainted wooden buckets with polished brass hoops, and beside it, undera dark blue awning, a man and woman were grinding rice in a hand-millmade of two heavy stone disks. A blue-and-white figured towel was boundabout the woman's head against the fine white rice-dust. Above them, ona tiny portico, an old man, with the calm, benevolent face of aporcelain mandarin, was watering an unbelievably-twisted dwarf plum onwhich was a single bunch of blossoming. At the side of the street grew agnarled _kiri_ tree, its shambling roots encroaching on the roadway. Intheir cleft was set a wooden _Shinto_ shrine with small piles of pebblesbefore it. From a distance, high and clear, she heard a strain of buglesfrom some squad of soldiers going to barracks, or perhaps to theparade-ground, where, she remembered, an Imperial Review of Troops wasto be held that morning.

  Barbara started suddenly, to see on the lawn just below her window, afigure three feet high, with a round, cropped head, gazing at her from asolemn, inquiring countenance. He wore a much-worn but clean _kimono_,and his infantile toes clutched the thongs of clogs so large that hisfeet seemed to be set on spacious wooden platforms. The youngster bentdouble and staggeringly righted himself with a staccato "_O-hayo!_"

  Barbara gave an inarticulate gasp; in face of his somber dignity she didnot dare to laugh. "How do you do?" she said. "Do you live here?"

  "No," he replied. "I lives in a other houses."

  "Oh!" exclaimed Barbara, aghast at his command of English. "What is yourname?"

  "Ishikichi," he said succinctly.

  "And will you tell me what you are doing, Ishikichi?"

  A small hand from behind his back produced a tiny bamboo cage in whichwas a bell-cricket. As he held it out, the insect chirped like an elfincymbal. "Find more one," he said laconically.

  "And what shall you do with them, I wonder."

  He took one foot from its clog and wriggled bare toes in the grass."Give him to new little sister," he said.

  "So you have a new little sister!" exclaimed Barbara. "How fine thatmust be!"

  A glaze of something like disappointment spread over the diminutiveface. "Small like," he said. "More better want a brother to play withme."

  "Maybe you might exchange her for a brother," she hazarded, but thecropped head shook despondently:

  "I think no can now," he said. "We have use her four days."

  Barbara laughed outright, a peal of silvery sound that echoed across thegarden--then suddenly drew back. A man on horseback was passing acrossthe drive toward the main gate of the compound. It was Daunt,bareheaded, his handsome tanned face flushed with exercise, the breezeruffling his moist, curling hair. She flashed him a smile as hisriding-crop flew to his brow in salute. The sun glinted from itsDamascene handle, wrought into the long, grotesque muzzle of a fox.Between the edsges of the blue silk curtains she saw him turn in thesaddle to look back before he disappeared.

  She stood peering out a long time toward the low white cottage acrossthe clipped lawn. The laughter had left her eyes, and gradually over herface grew a wave of rich color. She dropped the curtain and caught herhands to her cheeks. For an instant she had seemed to feel the pressureof strong arms, the touch of coarse tweed vividly reminiscent of a pipe.

  What had come over her? The one day that had dawned at sea in goldenfire and died in crimson and purple over a file of convicts--thedreaming night with its temple bell striking through silver mist andviolet shadows--these had left her the same Barbara that she had alwaysbeen. But somewhere, somehow, in the closed gulf between the then andnow, something new and strange and sweet had waked in her--somethingthat the sound of a voice in the garish sunlight had started intoclamorous reverberations.

  She sat down suddenly and hid her face.