"I am interested to know more of your good self, and of your delights
and aspirations, Yodogima," avowed Hideyoshi, frankly, and almost
pathetically, as the two met, accidentally--it may have been
intentionally--while strolling in the gardens, outside the castle
buildings, and overlooking the broad, transparent waters of lake Biwa,
in the distance.
Yodogima's heart fairly stopped, then beat ragingly, though her face and
manner indicated no perceptible change or concern. She only looked the
farther over an unbroken surface, save now and then a ripple that
yellowed and ruffled in the mellowed sun's rays of a cloudlessly
departing mid-summer day.
"You, too, seem bewitched of a prospect that always gladdens, never
denies me. Let us go there, you and I, where we may have the world to
ourselves, leaving the castle, with its bickerings and battles and their
equations, away and behind."
Nearly crying out, the now fast discerning princess, almost overcome
with eagerness, held fast hold upon the face-chords; yet no longer
vainly shying, permitted a somewhat closer approach than before--if none
the less dignified or becoming, at that.
For the first time, though slight the occasion, Hideyoshi's heart
bounded with relief. The exactions of war or the involutions of deceit
no longer commanded first attention; the faintest relaxation of a
hard-held and safely-guarded privilege had transfixed his whole energy,
wrought a new being; though the destiny of a nation and the trend of
government, henceforth and always, might evolve therefrom.
"You shall not condescend to answer by word, however pleasing that might
be; goddesses have only to will it thus or that, and mere man must break
his neck to do it so. Shall we go?"
"Toward Hiyeisan?" queried Yodogima, innocently, yet significantly.
"No; in the opposite direction; across the lake. I know a temple there,
close down at the water's edge, better rid of a kind and more select
about its visitations, where we can drink deeply and no mortal shall
question. Hence, Yodogima?"
"On one condition--but will not to-morrow do; I cannot make answer so
soon?" promised she, thoughtful to gain as much time as possible; having
measured accurately the probabilities of Hidenaga's advance.
"Granted, my lady: what is it?"
"The condition is that my sister Esyo accompany us--Jokoin nor Oyea
would be either serviceable or agreeable, as I believe, considering the
purpose that you have in mind and the rebellion that pours from my
heart. In as much, I have to ask you and you to grant only this: that
you heed nor hold me any other or for more."
"What? Have you not heard of the hostilities?"
"Yes; my sister told me about it."
"Esyo?"
"Yes."
"And--you have confidence in her?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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