With the remaining bombs he went across the garden and over the fence to the next and to the next and there was the secret well head. Quickly he went down into it, replacing the cover, no need to fear that Hiraga was below.
In the tunnel and safe he began to breathe again and lit the oil lamp. Scattered around were Hiraga's bed and few possessions.
Katsumata's knapsack with the metal-cased bombs was under a blanket. He added his own two, shouldered the bag and hurried down the tunnel. Soon the water barrier was ahead.
Quickly he was out of his clothes, tying them into a bundle.
The freezing water made him struggle for breath. When he reached the narrowest part where the roof sank toward the water, his head was just below it and the water not quite to his chin. With difficulty he managed to hold the lamp and knapsack above the surface. On the other side he dressed hurriedly, shivering and cursing, still so much to do.
Never mind, he had begun. Soon he would be finished and then would live forever. His fervor warmed him and drove the cold away.
At the far end where iron bars led upwards and the well vanished below, he stopped to collect his breath. Now upwards. Once he slipped, almost fell but regained his hold and held on until his heart stopped racing. Up again. With great care he moved the broken cover aside and peered out. No Man's Land was empty. Drunk Town was busy with slavering and shouts and drunken singing, a few men reeling along alleys not far away, dogs barking at them.
Drunk Town was south of the village and the Settlement that hugged the coast on a south-north line, as the Yoshiwara was generally southwards of Drunk Town. Ori first, then Katsumata and Hiraga had planned where to plant the fire initiators so that a wind from the south would drive the flames before it to consume all in its path.
He left the knapsack in the weeds, and secreted one short-fused bomb against a rickety godown, the other behind a hovel.
Rubbish covered the smoking fuses.
Hurrying back for the remaining bombs he had to slump into hiding near a pile of rubbish.
Approaching from the village a patrol of soldiers was making their nightly rounds. Their route went from the British Legation, along High Street, through the village, across No Man's Land, down through Drunk Town and back along the promenade again. Twice nightly. When they reached the alley, thirty yards from him, they stopped in the lee of the godown for a smoke and to relieve themselves.
Takeda cursed, pinned down.
More than three quarters of a candle had passed since lighting the first fuse.
"Good evening, Hinodeh," Andr`e said earlier when he had arrived at their garden sanctuary.
"Sorry I late."
"Good evening, Furansu-san. You are never late. Whatever you do is correct." Smiling at him. "Will you take sak`e?"
"Please." He sat opposite and watched her pour, his legs in the space under the table where a small brazier warmed the air, the heat kept in by the eiderdown that was spread over the table and wrapped around them. Her grace was ever more pleasing, hair like glistening jet held with decorative pins, a touch of rouge to her lips, her long sleeves held delicately away from the flask.
Tonight she wore a kimono he had never seen before, a glorious shade of green, his favorite color, with cranes, the symbol of long life, embroidered in silver thread all over, the edge of a sheer under-kimono peeping out enticingly. With a bow she handed him the cup and then, to his surprise, poured for herself from another flask that contained warm sak`e--his was cold as he preferred. It was rare for her to drink.
With a special smile, she lifted her cup.
"A ta sant`e, cheri, je t'aime."
She copied his accent as he had taught her.
"A ta sant`e, cherie, je t'aime," he said, an ache in his heart, not believing that she did, how could she?
They clinked cups and she drained hers, choked a little, at once poured for him again and for herself. The same smile and she offered her cup to touch his.
They drained them and again she poured.
"Mon Dieu, Hinodeh, you careful, yes?" he said with a laugh. "Not used to sak`e.
Careful, no become drunk!"
She laughed, sparkling white teeth, voluptuous lips. "Please, Furansu-san, tonight is special. Drink and be merry.
Please." She sipped this time, looking at him over the lip, her eyes alight and flashing in the dance of candle flames, eyes he always found fathomless, always keeping him off balance--part of her fascination.
"Why special, Hinodeh?"
"Today is Sei-ji-no-Hi, Coming of Age Day--for all persons who have reached twenty years --you have reached twenty, neh?" she said happily, then pointed to the big candle on the table. "This candle I dedicated to my village god Ujigami for you." Then she motioned to the door shoji. Just above it was a bouquet of pine and bamboo. "That is a Kadamatsu, symbolizing stability." A shy smile and she poured and drank again. "I hope you approve."
"Oh yes, thank you, Hinodeh," he said warmed.
A few weeks ago he had discovered it was her birthday and brought iced champagne with a golden bracelet. She wrinkled her nose against the bubbles and said it was wonderful, but drank it only when he insisted. He had finished most of the bottle and that night his lovemaking had been frenzied.
Over their time together he had noticed that the violence of his thrusts did not disturb her, she responded equally whatever he did and, at length, lay back with him as drained. But how much she really enjoyed their joining he could never fathom, nor could he savor her and leave it at that, leave her to her pretense if that's what it really was--and forget the enigma she had become.
One day he would penetrate that enigma. He was convinced. It only required patience, that was all. He would wear away the shell of the enigma and then their loving and his frantic, insatiable passion would be calmed and he could live in peace.
She was still everything to him. Nothing else mattered. This afternoon he had humbled himself with Angelique and cajoled and begged and pleaded and menaced until she had given him a brooch in lieu of money. Raiko had accepted it.
Angelique's stupid. Why is she wavering?
Of course she should accept Tess Struan's offer, buying her off, and quickly before it's withdrawn.
The offer's generous, overgenerous, more than I expected considering her untenable position: no will in her favor and anyway no estate to claim against! Five hundred guineas as a down payment in three weeks! Wonderful--a gift from God!
She can spare four hundred of that and I'll arrange moneylenders to advance another thousand against her trust, two thousand, whatever I need.
Skye's a fool. She'll settle after I've talked to her, and gratefully accept any advance when I suggest it. I'm saved!
Looking at Hinodeh, he beamed, so joyously.
"What?" She fanned herself against the rising alcoholic flush, the tip of her tongue between her teeth.
In French he said, "I'm home free, my love, soon you're paid for and all mine forever."
"So sorry I do not understand."
Reverting to Japanese he said, "Tonight I just happy, and say, you mine. You so pretty, you mine."
She bowed her head at his praise. "You are handsome too and I am glad when you are happy with me."
"Always." But this was not true. Frequently he was angry and stormed away. Always the same problem, a chance remark, leading to asking, then taunting, pleading, demanding, begging, shouting: "We don't need darkness! We're lovers and we don't need the dark anymore, we're friends as well as lovers, I am committed to you forever.