Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922, 1911-02-05
Waga tamashii wo
Al suru Yesu 70.
Mani wa sakamaki,
KaEp ful<i-aretA.
CHAPTER Xxx.
The Flight.


For all save one, sleep came early that
evening to the house in the Street Of
Prayer-to-the-Gods. In her little room
Haru lay as stlrless as a sleeping flower
There was no sound save the hushed ac-
cents of the outer night that penetlated
the wooden amado
At length she rose, noiselessly slid the
paper shoii and with infinite care, inch
by inch, pushed back the shutters. The
moon had risen and a flood Of moonlight
came into the room. Stealthily she
opened a wall-closet and selected her best
and gayest robe-a holiday hmono of dim
green, with lotos flowers. and obi of cloth
of-gold with chrysanthemums peeping
from the weave. BY the round mirror on
her low dressing cabinet, she redressed the
coiled ebony butterfly of her hair, and set
a red flower in 1t. She touched her face
with the soft rice powder, and added tint
of carmine to the set paleness Of her
cheeks. She wrapped in a furoshild some
soberer street clothing toilet articles, and
a mauve kimono woven with silver camel
las, set the bundle by the opened amado
and noselessly passed into the next room.
II was the larger living apartment The
tiny lomp which burned before the golden
shrine Of Kwan-on on the Buddha-shelf
cast wan glimmer over the spotless al
cove and threw a ghostly light on her
finery Through the thin paper shikiri she
could hear her fathers deep breathing, and
in the room in which he slept a little clock
chimed eleven. She opened the door Of the
shrine and stood looking at the tablet 1t
heid-the Thai of her mother. The
kaimyo, or soul name, it bore signlfied
Moon Dawn of the Mountain Of
Light Dwelling in Mansion-o Luminous
Perfume She rubbed her palms
softly together before 1t and her
lips moved silently. From the golden
shadows she seemed suddenly to feel her
mothers hand guiding her childish steps
to that place OF morning worship, to see
that loving face, as she remembered It,
looking down on her across the rim of
years. She bent and passed her hand along
the two swords, one long, one short, that
rested on their lacquered rack beneath the
shelf-it was her farewell to her father.
She had left no message. She could tell
no one. If she succeeded she would have
done her part II she failed-there was only
a blank darkness In that thought. But she
had no agitation now-only a dull ache.
In her rooms she took book from a
drawer and slipped It into her sleeve,
caught up the furoshild, stepped noise
lessly to the outer porch and carefully
closed the amadO behind her.
She walked swiftly back TO the empty
chapel She drew the book from her sleeve.
1t was her Bible, with her name on the
fly leaf. She unlocked the gold chain
about her neck and slipped off the little
enamel cross. She put this between the
leaves OF the Bible and laid it on the door
step.
A half hour later she stood before a wis
taria-roofed gate in Kasumiga-tani Cho-
the 'street-of-the-Nisty -Valley"--n . T
Aoyama parade ground. The glass liant
ern above 1t threw a dim light on a grave
path twisting through low shrubbery
Down the street she could hear dozen
students chanting the marching song OF
Hirose Chusa, the young war hero;
Though the body die, the spirit does not
He who wished TO be reborn
Seven times into this world,
For the sake of serving hts country
For the sake OF requiting the imperia
Favor
Has he really died2'
Haru opened the gate. Cherry petals
were sitting down like rosy snowfiakel
over the scarlet trembling nanten bushes
A little way inside was a graceful HOUSE
entrance half shaded by a trailing vine
The amado were not closed, the shoji were
brilliantly lighted.
With a little sob she unfastened th'
golden obi. re-wound and tied 1t with th'
knot in front.