They found an inn in Tonegawa, a huge building with great wings, many-storied, striving up the hillside, seeming, like the trees, to cling thereto. The inn people were a little doubtful. Yes, no. They had only one room left and that was really not a room at all; it was a banquet hall, not used for sleeping. The other hotels? No, they were crowded, too, with the unexpected rush of holiday seekers left here. Yes, he might have the big room.[Pg 200] Other refugees were approaching down the road. Kent made up his mind. "Shikataganai, Sadako-san, we must make the best of it. All right, I'll take it."
A maid servant led them through long passages, up steps, along a long passage, up more steps, then through more corridors and stairways, ever , bewilderingly; it seemed as if they must be mounting into the clouds. Finally he noticed overhanging eaves; thank God, this must be the top story; they could mount no higher. The girl led them down a passage, drew aside shoji, them into a vast room occupying the entire width of the building, showing a great tokonoma with a splendid picture, a bronze statuette of Ebisu, the fattest and jolliest of the Seven Lucky Gods, grinning them welcome. There were great screens, several huge mother-of-pearl inlaid hibachi. Quite evidently this was a hall for special feasts.
The maid brought tea and comfortable kimono. "The bath?" she inquired. This was a hot-spring hotel, sought by people from all over Japan for its natural hot mineral water. "I shall get dinner ready while you are in the bath," she added, evidently with the thought that this foreigner might not know the common custom.
"I want to arrange my hair first. There is no mirror here." Sadako was already in the . "Please excuse me a moment."
She disappeared. He waited, not knowing just what to do. It was embarrassing, this bath suggestion. The maid became impatient. "Will you not take your bath now?" she insisted. Very well, he would solve the difficulty by going first. He got out of his clothes and into the kimono. The maid led him down through the of corridors, miles it seemed, to the ground floor, into a hall-like space, with shelves[Pg 201] for clothing, where were half a dozen persons, men and women, half or nude, getting ready for or leaving the baths. He turned to the servant. "Where?"
"Oh, anywhere," she indicated a row of doors. "There are three baths, but they are all full. It is no use to wait. There are so many guests that there will be no empty rooms. Please enter." She was in a hurry, began to his girdle. It was embarrassing. In other inns where he had been, the rule separating the sexes had been observed. Still, they all seemed so unconcerned; he must do in Japan as the Japanese do.
He his kimono and placed it on a shelf. The maid held open a door. As he started to enter some one from inside was about to pass out. He stood aside; a young matron, about thirty, and two little girls, all absolutely nude. He that in his surprise there was no hint of being shocked, they were so natural, without hint of . Came to him instead an odd sense of purity; the impression was like that of a doe with a couple of , nothing more.
The room was ; three sides were of finely grained wood, the fourth wall being the natural hillside with small growing in the interstices among the mossy rocks whence jetted the hot spring water, effervescent, into a rill in the immaculate tile floor leading to the tank, a huge thing, about three feet deep, filled with crystal-clear water. The room was so large that there was not even the veil of steam which usually half obscures the bathers in such places. On the floor close to him were a couple of Japanese men, rubbing themselves with towels, preparing to leave. A little farther over were three women, two very young, from their bodies the soap which[Pg 202] covered them with a creamy ; the third, a little older, was having her back rubbed by the old bath-man.
Kent took a wooden bucket and dipped water from the tank, poured it over himself, found a wooden stool and sat down to soap himself. The men left and he was alone with the women. They paid no attention to him, ignored his presence altogether. What a graceful picture they made, holding high the small buckets whence they poured streams of the sparkling water over their smooth, slender bodies, ivory-gleaming, creamy, almost white. The bath-man poured water over the oldest girl, and all three climbed into the tank. Then he turned to Kent and began to his back. The girls were chatting gayly. He wished they would have finished before time came for him to enter the tank. But the bath-man had completed the rubbing; now he was sousing him with clean water. "Please, danna-san, step in. This water is very healthful."
There was nothing for it. He went to the edge. The girls regarded him . "Please, excuse me." He noted surprise in their glances; evidently apology had been , out of the ordinary. They said nothing. He started to climb in hurriedly, to hide his embarrassment, but drew back with an . The water was much hotter than he had expected. One of the two younger girls tittered, tried to control herself, but failed. The other became infected by it, tittered also uncontrollably; from they went into laughter, grasped each other's hands, bodies shaking, sending over the mirror-like surface.
"Oh, do keep quiet," the older girl managed to repress a smile. "Please, don't mind them. They're very rude, but they are so young. Anyway," she[Pg 203] added, "you should come into the water quickly; then you don't feel the heat so much."
"Thank you very much." He plumped in. It was not so bad, after all. "It is hotter than any place I have ever been before," he explained, ashamed at having .
"Yes, it is hotter here than in most places," said the girl. "So you live in Japan?"
One remark led to another. The younger girls joined in. Soon they were freely, Hakone, the weather, and particularly the news of the strike, the great event of the day. As they sat there, letting the heat from the water into their bodies, an undercurrent of thought kept running through his mind, minutely probing analysis into his own thoughts, his impressions from this astonishing situation. Yes, here he was, with these three young women, side by side almost, immersed in this water which offered no more than glass, and yet his sense of embarrassment was leaving him, had left him; even the feeling of unconventionality disappeared. He felt no different than he might have, had he been sitting with them, clothed, in a café. Curiously, there was not even hint of suggestive thought, erotic inspiration. The utter absence thereof puzzled him a little. Men might experience such at the fashionable seasides of America where female beauty chose to itself with wetly clinging , boldly cut garments, designedly , stirring curiosity with artfully faintness of concealment—while here the very absence of suggestion, of thought on the part of these women of the man-woman idea, produced an effect of naturalness, purity even; one would feel ashamed of harboring fancies of sensuality. And yet these girls—they were quite evidently gentlewomen—would have blushed in shame should they, when on[Pg 204] the street or any place other than the bath, suffer accidental exposure of even the slightest bit of ; they would being seen in the daringly cut evening gown of Western fashion. In the bath this was natural, obvious; one did not bathe in clothes; this was evidently the idea.
They climbed out and prepared to leave. He watched them, as they stood or knelt in easy, graceful attitudes, as he might have looked at a picture. He was pleased that he had grasped the idea, the Japanese attitude of mind, that a man might look at a woman, unclothed, without of thought of sex.
"Sayonara." The girls smiled to him. An elderly couple came in. He climbed out, dried himself and passed out into the hall, donned his kimono and started back for the room. He mounted a flight of stairs, went down a corridor, climbed more stairs, occupied with his thought of the incident in the bath. Presently he faced a storeroom filled with great heaps of quilts. He tried to his steps, but wandered into another part of the house which was unknown to him. Lost again, another . He would inquire; but he did not even know the number of his room. The servants were all busy elsewhere. He asked a couple of young men who passed to show him to the top floor. They laughed at his predicament and undertook to guide him, but the floor they finally reached was as unknown to him as the rest had been. As they wandered along the corridors they could look into many rooms where partitions showed each its separate little scene, parents with children, young couples, large families, groups of students, all eating, drinking, discussing the strike or their own more intimate affairs. Here and there the two young men would make , explaining the contretemps. It[Pg 205] excited merriment. Others joined the search, became lost in their turn, pointing out directions, finding themselves baffled; still more joined the fun. It became a procession of young fellows and girls, highly amused, laughing, enjoying the childish adventure. How likable they were, lovable in their ; no hint here of racial . They took him in as one of themselves in this fine game which had happened so fortuitously to the time. Kent came to enter into the spirit of the thing, the infectious spirit of , with the assurance that they were laughing with him, not at him; that they were all friends. He was almost disappointed when a maid who knew where he belonged came to his rescue and led him back amid laughing calls of "good luck" and "go yukkuri nasai," "don't be in a hurry to leave," from his host of new friends.
A few moments later Sadako-san returned to the room. "So you have bathed too, Kent-san?"
"Why, yes; and why did you give me the slip like that?"
"Oh, I knew that it would be like that, with so many people here, bathing together. Certainly, I did not want to bathe with you."
"But when you bathed, did you not bathe with men?"
"Of course, but that—that's different."
"Because I'm a foreigner?" He was pleased enough that matters had turned out as they had. Somehow, he felt, with her he should have experienced a shyness and uneasiness, such as had not occurred with the girls who were unknown to him; that it would in some odd, intangible way have vitiated the state of purity of which he wanted to maintain with her. But the suggestion that she, Sadako-san, should feel the race difference, especially when these others[Pg 206] had not thought thereof, irritated him. "Just because I'm a foreigner?" he repeated.
She came close to him, took his face between her slim, small hands, looked at him intently, reprovingly. "Hugh-san, you know that between you and me that doesn't matter. These other men, I didn't know them, but with you," she blushed furiously, "with you, I couldn't. Can't you see? It's because you're a man you are so stupid. If you were a woman, you'd understand."
In his turn he brought his hands to her cheeks, brought her face close to his, looked deeply into these great, darkly eyes which had ever held such a for him. He sensed a thrill pass through him, delicious, his entire being. No; he caught himself. This wouldn't do; he was slipping into dangerous waters. "Sadako-san," he said, holding control in his voice, "I understand, even if I am a man, and—you're a dear girl." But still they held each other. He felt a shivering, tenseness, nervous, electrical, as if the next instant must bring some new, , overwhelming development.
Patter of feet in the corridor. They sprang apart, faced each other embarrassed, in reaction of surprise at the nearness of love to which their feelings had so unexpectedly brought them. The maid brought supper. It was necessary to make an effort to appear natural, to get back to the commonplace. The presence of the servant, unsuspecting, business-like, arranging the table, helped them. They seated themselves on their cushions, self-consciousness fell away; soon they were chatting as if nothing had taken place.
Darkness had fallen. The lights were lit. The maid brought in huge bundles of futon and arranged beds, great heaps of wadded quilts on the floor, side by side. Evidently these two were man and wife, or[Pg 207] sweethearts; it was all the same to her. Sadako-san went out on the narrow , sat with her back turned to the room. The maid made the finishing touches. "Good-night, o yasumi nasai." She left the room, closed the shoji, the patter of her feet faded away down the hallway.
Kent went out to Sadako-san. She was on the floor, head resting against the low rail, staring abstractedly out over the roofs below, towards the hillside over which was rising a white crescent moon, faintly silvering the trees along the . "Sadako-san." She gave no answer. Far down below the stream was murmuring; cicada violins a quavering treble serenade. "Sadako-san," he took her hand, drew her towards him, placed his arm about her, brought her close, held her tightly. She offered no resistance, her gaze directed , dreamily, into the distance, sadly. The poor, dear, lovely girl. Suddenly all idea of from , from love, seemed distant, a thing of the past. As he felt the warmth of her body, sensed the beating of her heart, the heaving of her bosom, the implied consent of her , that old thought of avoiding love seemed stupid, absurdly . She was beautiful, lovable; they were young, what was life for? He loved her. He turned her face towards his own. Slowly, looking , deeply into her eyes, he brought it close. Then he kissed her. They clung lips to lips. Her arms went about his neck. The of the stream and the cicada violins faded into an indefinite, soft, distant obligato.
"Sadako-san, I love you."
Slowly she drew her face from his, eyes wide as if in surprise, fear. Suddenly she threw his hands from her, held out her own against him, stared at him, lips parted. "Hugh-san, oh, Hugh-san, why did[Pg 208] you do it?" Her hands grasped the rail and she buried her face on her arms. He could hear her . With gentle hands he tried to her, but the touch caused her to tremble convulsively, it seemed almost . "Sadako-san, Sadako-san." He as he might have done to a frightened child. Gradually the sobbing ceased, the nervous tenseness of her body gave way to passive inertness. He contrived to place his arm about her. "And now, Sadako-san, little girl, don't be frightened of me. I shan't hurt you, or kiss you, or do anything you don't wish me to do. But don't you understand that I love you? Don't you care for me at all?"
"Hugh-san, I know you are good. I am not afraid of you. I'd do anything you want, but—I can't. It's impossible, oh, oh, Hugh-san." He could see tears tremble on long, black , enhancing the depth, the of these dark eyes, the quality that had so overcome him when he first saw her. Beautiful, unhappy, wholly adorable. "Sadako-san, of course, it is not impossible. Dearest, I want to marry you."
But she shook her head, kept shaking it, rocked her whole body. Again he her, brought her cheek up against his. "Sadako-san, little girl, what is the matter? Tell me, dear, only tell me." Presently she straightened, took his arm from her waist, grasped both his hands, held them, looked straight at him. "All right, Hugh-san, I shall tell you all, all about myself. Then you'll understand.
"While I was still small, my mother died, and my father didn't marry again; he didn't want me to have a stepmother. Oh, he was a good man, my father. He was a professor in the Imperial University, in political economy, and all he lived for was to make me wise and good. I went to a good school and he taught me much himself, many things that he did not dare[Pg 209] teach his classes, showing me how Japan is being by the money evil, the big capitalist houses that are gradually sucking into themselves all the money, all the treasures, all the happiness of Japan; and the narikins, the new profiteers, who are like jackals that take what the lions leave, so there's nothing at all left for the people. He told me that all that was good, all that was fine and noble about old Japan was being thrust out of the way by the money worshipers; the samurai, the Bushido code, the splendid old courtesy and customs, all were being sacrificed that these people might make money, by any means, fair or , by the government and by grinding down the common people. He told me so much about it because he dared not talk to others. He was afraid he might lose his position or even go to jail for harboring 'dangerous thoughts.' For himself he wouldn't have minded that, but he was saving up money for my education, for he wanted me to go to the big universities in America and Europe, and every month he went down to Yokohama and put money in the Machi Bank. I didn't care much about these things then, politics, economics; I wanted to be a doctor; but later I remembered everything he had said.
"Then came the big crash in business and Machi failed. We lost all we had; so did the other poor depositors. No one would do anything for us; the rich men and the other banks were all sorry for Machi, who had lost so many millions. But he still has his and his at Hayama—and we had nothing. My father had been failing for some time before that. Then he died. I am sure that disappointment killed my father."
Her voice died away in a whisper. She fell silent, looked out over the valley, absorbed in her memories. So she was another of the victims of the Machi failure.[Pg 210] He had reason to remember the incident well. The Machi Bank had been the first big concern to tumble in the crash, and in working up the story he had learned his first astounding lesson in Japanese high finance. Out of his bank's assets of some seventy million , Machi had invested sixty millions in his own silk and menthol , and had lost it all. The very point made by Sadako-san, the wave of sympathy for Machi on the part of the rest of the plutocrats, the absolute unconcern regarding the depositors, had caused him to wonder. He had interviewed one of Japan's leading financial authorities, a high official in the Department, about it. But it had been very unsatisfactory. Why, hadn't Machi lost all his capital, millions and millions? Of course, one must be sorry for him.
"Then Machi is lucky that he's in Japan," Kent had said. "If he had been in America, he would be in jail now." But the official had refused to believe it. Why? Had followed a long discussion. Had they then no laws whereby bankers were prevented from with funds placed in their care? The official had plainly thought that Kent was childish in his ignorance of high finance. Did he not understand then that bankers had to invest the funds to them; that was the very essence of . But was there then nothing to prevent a Japanese banker from investing the funds in his charge in a game or in roulette, if he so pleased? No, naturally the Japanese Government did not wish to limit its financiers in the exercise of their talents. And, anyway, of course, the bankers did not put the money in poker games? No, possibly not, but what about Machi? As a gamble, poker became a child's game as compared with silk and menthol. The great authority had shown signs of ; anyway, poker was gambling and silk[Pg 211] was business; every one knew that, and, of course, there was always a certain element of chance in business. Kent had tried once more. "But now that you have the example of the Machi case before you, with more like that almost certain to come, don't you think it would be well to regulate such business by law? What do you trust to, anyway?" No, the Japanese laws were quite satisfactory, quite, and the authority had himself up with great dignity. "We trust," he had said solemnly, "we trust in the integrity of our bankers."
Kent had picked up his hat and had left. What was the use? Could you beat it? Here Machi had gambled away sixty millions, and still they about trusting in the integrity of such. At the time he had felt intense sympathy with the victims, unknown to him, , widows, old men doubtless,—and now here he saw at first-hand one of the little tragedies left in the wake of Japanese high finance indiscretion. So she really had good reason for her aversion to the , poor little girl. He leaned forward, her glance. "And then?"
"Then," she her shoulders. He hated to see the bitter smile on these childishly curved lips. "Then I had no father, and I had no money, all because Mr. Machi had wanted to take a gambler's chance to increase his millions. But he kept his motor and his villa, and we, whose money he had used, we kept nothing. Then I remembered what my father had so often told me, and then I that I would do what I could to help the poor against the rich, to do my share to put an end to a government which allows such things, that cares only for the plutocrats. So I got a job in a silk filature. I might have done better, of course, but I wanted to see first what the life of[Pg 212] the workers was like, and I had no money, anyway, so it made no difference.
"I thought I would begin cautiously; so I found a position in one of the Ohara 'model mills.' I thought I was lucky. Of course, I didn't like the looks of the high board fence that surrounded the whole place and made it appear like a prison; and it was a prison, too, I soon found out. They never let us out except on what they called 'excursions' and then there were always guards with us. They made a great fuss about these excursions, but the fact is that most of us stayed home to sleep—we could never get enough............