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Show The Lord of i hunder'Gate BUYING A WIFE SYNOPSIS. In a lott drinking place In the Japanese town of Mltaglrl, Kayama, dissolute son of the wealthy Aochl, Lord of the Thunder Gate, boasts of a K"lrl he Is to purchase (with gold stolen from his father). Following Follow-ing a fight in the place, a drunken white man, speakinpr perfect Jap-' Jap-' aneae, Is left unconscious. Kayama, Kaya-ma, dreading his father's anger. Bees a way of escape. IJe changes clothes with the unconscious white man (to whom he bears a remarkable resemblance), leaving a note in the garments promising him food, shelter and money if he will Impersonate him (Kayama) (Kaya-ma) for a time. Leaving. Kayama Is robbed and slain. The white man, as Kayama, is taken, unconscious, un-conscious, to the house of Aochi. His name Is Robert Wells. Wells (who was born and passed his childhood In Japan) awakes bewildered, be-wildered, but to familiar scenes, In Aochl's house. Aochl, almost sightless from age, does not perceive per-ceive the deception. He had determined de-termined his unworthy son should be put to death, but Wells' deportment de-portment leads him to think a reformation is possible. CHAPTER II Continued. 3 As they walked down the corridor Wells was thinking as quickly as his muddled head would permit. What had Mlsako called him? Kayama! What had this servant called him? Kayama. That thing he'd seen or had he dreamed it? last night; that god. The thunder god. The god of Kaya-ma's Kaya-ma's house, of which his nurse had so often told him In his baby days. He confound it, he'd see it through, for a time, anyhow. A curious look of malignant hatred and incredulous, pleased surprise was on Aochl's face. Wells saw that the old Japanese's eyesight must be failing, fail-ing, for he constantly screwed up his eyebrows as If to peer more closely. "Is It true that you chastised Itoia, the Inn keeper?" Wells bowed. "That is the truth my father." "Where," the old man asked grimly, "is the gold?" "Gold?" "Gold! A bag of It. Come, where Is it hidden?" , ."I have no gold, father." This Aochl pondered over. He considered con-sidered the matter long, so long that finally his aged mind shifted and his face Nt up. "Of what were we talking? talk-ing? I remember. Of Itoia. Ael! T would have seen it. My servant told me. Your open hand was like the lightning. It closed as it struck. Itoia's eyes blinked. He descended to . the floor. That trick you must have learned In another country, Kayama. It is well that you learned something good. I had fears of that trip. I have not liked your speech, ft Is Just a trifle halting. It Is not so crisp as It Bhould be." He scratched his head. "Come closer, son. It would seem that your arm Is bigger than it lias been, but the mpn of our house are powerful men. Kayama." He pressed Wells' -bandaged arm, nd the white man winced. Immediately Immedi-ately Aochi's expression changed. "You are ashamed," he announced. "Aei ! misfortune to my house! .that such a thing should occur. To be chased to my very gate by the husband hus-band of a rice picker. To have bartered bar-tered with him for her lost honor, rather than take a knife ... to haggle over the payment, over a single irold piece ... to fpar to fight, thus suffering" suffer-ing" he pinched the arm again "a broken arm and" forefinger probing "this cut nuove your eye. And yet the inn hecper was a stronger man. ... I do not understand It, Kayama. And I am tired from so nun?:: talk." Wells smiled. "Perhaps I have been reincarnated, my father. Think' that this Is a . . . wiser, different son returned re-turned to you, by the goodness of the gods. That the troublesome fellow who was Kayama Is gone." Aochl reached a clawlike hand toward to-ward Wells and opened the neck of the kimono. "Ael !" he cackled. "There is the lightning mark. It seems more red. Angry. Let us say that a miracle has been brought about. That the gods have given you sense." From behind him he drew a long sword : Wells saw the Hons of Shinto which ' swarmed the sheath and sprawled about the exquisite hilt. "This," Aochl lifted the blade, "awaited you, Kayama. Now the old son Is gone, a thing of the past" (Indeed (In-deed a body was floating down the river that runs past the Inn of the Pale Tear!, to rest at last upon a shelving bank of mud) "and the honor of my house is thus appeased. I grow forgetful. Kayama." "You should rest, father." "That Is true. I have not slept. I will retire for rest and devotion. I am very tired." At the door he paused. "Also very happy In my new son." he added, and went off pleased with bis conceit. They found him. Just before the hour for the noonday meal, prostrate before the household shrine, his wrinkled wrin-kled face smiling. Aochl had completed complet-ed the last stage rf the ceaseless Journey. Jour-ney. Telling Wells, between muffled wnlls and cries, each member of the household made obeisance to the npv Lord of the Thunder Gate, Kaynma-San. Kaynma-San. Wells' bead whirled. Old stories d:shed through his mind; the tales of Mlsako. the i urse. He marshaled them is best he co ild Into an orderly array. Cilia, obvlooj jr. was no time for con- ' By S'sDNEY HERSCHEL SMALL (Copyright by The Bobbs-Merrill Co.) fession to whom, indeed, should he explain the tale, and who would believe? be-lieve? He had been accepted as Kayama Ka-yama by the head of the house. He ... he was Kayama . . . for a bit, anyhow. He crossed the floor slowly, returning with a naked sword, which he laid across the dead man's arms, to keep away evil spirits. Tapers were lit, incense curled in the hot close air of the room. Servants hid away the household shrine. Finally a screen green, covered with flying herons of gray, was placed about the body, and Kayama returned to his room. The ancient servant maid awaited him. "I was a season older than the lord," she greeted Wells. "The willow has outlived the pine." She hustled about with many unneedful steps, preparing pre-paring white garments for Wells to don. "I saw Aochi-San's father die. I have seen Aoehi-San die. Who knows hut that you yourself m'.jlit be stricken? See to it" she waggled a finger at him "that a little son trot about this house, Kayaroa-San." She held up a white, unembrolde'red kimono for him. Wells dropped the bjue kimono he had been wearing to the floor. The bit of paper fell with !(, fluttered: he stooped, seeing writing writ-ing thereon. "Read, while I compose myself," fx? asked the woman. "It Is doubtless of no importance. I do not know from whence it came." "My eyes are old, Lord. If It be nothing, I will burn It in the brazier." Wells glimpsed the characters for "Kayama," picked up the paper and read slowly. Slowly, and with dawning dawn-ing comprehension. "The swine," he said aloud iri English. "Poor old Aochi! He's happier that I did happen hap-pen along. Wonder when the beggar will show up again. What a mess !" "Foreign words, Kayama-San, on the day you should -be thinking of the many virtues of your departed father," the servant chided. "You have on tlie white robe. The priests will be waiting." wait-ing." The great bell of the Rokurae temple was already reverberating slowly and regularly, punctuating Wells' wonder of this unreal situation. Peal after peal of the great bronze bell shook through the houue of the Thunder Gate. Wells took his place in the procession proces-sion that had already formed at the gate of the house. All were white-hooded, white-hooded, and robed in white from head to foot. There were no relatives, only the men and women servants of the house, the leading priest, ringing a tinny uetl, and Kayama . . . Wells. The whole affair was dreamlike to him. Shadowy. Impressions only, yet unimpressed. Eyes centered on Wells. Slowly, trying to remember everything that Misako had told him of (for she had been at this very temple many times, she had said), he rose, bowed low, lit an Incense stick and stuck it in a bronze vase at Aochi's feet. He recited, re-cited, clearly, the Words of Perfume for the departed. These he had heard and angered his father by repeating, re-peating, when he was a child. Members of the household followed him, each thrusting a blazing, fuming bit of incense Into the bowl, that Aochi might be wafted away quickly and safely. Voices broke. Aochl had been a noble, kind lord, if stern and strict. Who could say what Kayama would be? Many a prayer was muttered for the new lord, that the gods give him wisdom. "Your devotion Is pleasing to us." the head priest Informed Wells. "We feared that your Journeys In the sclyo-Jin sclyo-Jin country might cause you to forget. for-get. ..." "There will be gold brought tc the temple," Wells said, remembering. "Gold Is not a covering for devotion. You will" smiling slyly "bring the gold yourself. Knynma-Sun 7 You remember re-member the price 7" "It will, be ampla, honorable priest." "Ample! The price Is fixed!" "None shall complain of the generosity gen-erosity of the Lord of -the Thunder Gate," Wells said, provoked by the Insistence In-sistence of the other. The priest looked at him curiously, "You did not speak of generosity before, be-fore, Kayama-San. You would have offered . . . more gold . . . for the maid." Then, suddenly; "Surely you have not forgot our bargain? The maid Is ready for you, upon payment of the sin rolls of gold. When will you come for her?" Wells considered this. A harm In had apparently been made between Kayama and the temple folk. He'd carry It out. An additional servant more or less what did it matter? He knew that she would be well versed (for whnf Japanese maid Is net ?) In the needful duties. It would, also, be safer to be waited upon by some one unacquainted with Kayama. For. some time, somehow, bis masquerade might totter, nnd the mask slip. . . . "Today I devote to contemplation of my departed father's many virtues, I that I profit by them. I will come to- morrow." , "With the six rolls of gold. Kayamn-Snn?" Kayamn-Snn?" ! "I will Drlng them." CHAPTER III "Tt Is the hour for bathing," the old servant told Kayama, when he returned. re-turned. "I am tired." Wells feared that I thlt would not sattfT ie- J i She, however," brought a volume to him. "Compose yourself, then, Kayama-San. Here is the First Look. In it so I have heard is written that to the. young should come the young. I am old. There should be a gayer maid waiting upon you. She would drive the sorrow from your eyes. Tell me, Lord, does not young blood course in your veins?" Wells smiled. "I go to the temple tomorrow, iitrle mother. It seems that I am to buy a maid there." "Those priests ! Much gold you will pay." Her hands fluttered. "It will he good to have a maid In the house again. And a babe." Wells thought in. excellent American. "A fat chance," he w-as thinking. "Your maid will pray each night that she be given a man-son," mumbled on the servant. "I will see to it that she protect your comforts, that each wish, . even thoughts unuttered, be fulfilled." Wells shivered. Why hadn't sonm one instructed or didn't American mothers, do such things? Alberta? Had she ever, during their engagement, engage-ment, considered anything . . . and hadn't she been among the first to condemn him , . . unheard? With a start he remembered her beauty, only to find that he considered it as impersonal imper-sonal as a painting. Footsteps in the hall aroused him. A priest, shaved of head, a comfortably comfort-ably plump fellow, bowed as he shuffled shuf-fled into the room. He refused the offered of-fered cup of tea. Intimating by gestures ges-tures that he wished to speak to Wells in private. "The abbot has sent me," he whispered whis-pered hoarsely. "There are missionaries mission-aries In the next village. They will view the temple. They liave prying eyes. The abbot wishes you to come for the maid." "I am deep In devotion, honorable priest." "You will find comfort in your sorrow. sor-row. Be sure to warn your servants to be silent until the seiyo-JIn depart. The matter is important. Be sure to bring the gold." Why not? Wells thought. Better get it over with. He clapped his hands, giving orders : he was bringing a maid to the household. Let none mention tt. (Why did the .priest say that?) Prepare for her. The serving-woman hurried for a gay robe. Funerals were forgotten. Wells was soon ready, and accompanied accom-panied the priest. Already Wells saw the problems attendant at-tendant upon buying a maid. He must tejl her that she found no favor In his eyes which would be difficult in view of the fact that he had bought her. How could he tell her? The Jangle of little bells announced the first prayer hour as he entered the temple yard. Heavy hangings to the left of the Idol were brushed aside, and the eldest priest entered. "It has been decreed," he said gravely, "that temple-maids may be sold, but only as wives. Later they may be relegated to a lesser position. But each must be properly married. Is this satisfactory, Kayama-San?" Without With-out permitting Wells to answer (and Wells was already thinking of the form of hia protest, having his own Ideas as to the binding of marriage ceremonies), he droned immediately into the ritual, as Is proper, for the bridegroom must not see the woman until they are actually married. ' Complete, be told the shocked Wells tie had a favor to ask. "The priests have never seen such a woman, Kayama-San. Is It permitted that they gaze upon such beauty, that they might remember it?" What difference? Wells nodded assent. as-sent. ' Wells saw a second's byplay, Just as the curtain parted, that was not Intended In-tended to he seen: the trembling hands of a priest touching bright hair: the twisting of a woman's figure as if to offer combat, then the drooping of a hopeless head. ."Good !" lie heard the priest say. "Keep your eyes discreetly to the floor. Walk slowly," ana .vlth gulling gull-ing himd he led the girl Into the room. Fascinated, Wrells eyes held to the welrdness of the picture, to this rost In a Satsuma bowl. The priest was willing that this moment of awe, of expectation, be protracted, and, as was natural, the first upward sweep of the girl's eyes caught and held the one bright spot In the room, Wells' brilliant robes.' The maid says she Is all white and begs his forbearance. Can you imagine how she comes to be a slave of the priests? . I 1 (TO BE CONTINUED.) |