In a cup of tea by laugh katio herne. Have you ever attempted to
mount some old tower stairway spiring up through darkness, and in the heart of
that darkness found yourself at the cobwebbed edge of nothing? Or have you followed
some coast path cut along the face of a cliff, only to discover yourself
at a turn on the jagged verge of a break. The emotional worth of
such experience from a literary point of view, is proved by the force of
the sensations aroused, and by the vividness with which they are remembered. Now
there have been curiously preserved in old Japanese story books certain fragments of fiction that
produce an almost similar emotional experience. Perhaps the writer was lazy, Perhaps he
had a quarrel with the publisher. Perhaps he was suddenly called away from his
little table and never came back. Perhaps death stopped the writing brush in the
very middle of a sentence. But no mortal man can ever tell us exactly
why these things were left unfinished. I select a typical example. On the
fourth day of the first month of the third Tenhwa, that is to say,
about two hundred and twenty years ago, the Lord Nakagawa Sedo, while
on his way to make a New Year's visit, halted with his train at
a tea house in Hakusan in the Hongo district of Yedo. While the party
were resting there, one of the Lord's attendants, Awakato named Sekinai, feeling
very thirsty, filled for himself a large water cup with tea. He was
raising the cup to his lips when he suddenly perceived in the transparent yellow infusion
the image or reflection of a face that was not his own. Startled,
he looked around, but could see no one near him. The face in
that he appeared from the coiffure to be the face of a young samurai.
It was strangely distinct and very handsome, delicate as the face of a girl,
and it seemed the reflection of a living face, for the eyes and
the lips were moving. Bewildered by this mysterious apparition, second I threw away
the tea and carefully examined the cup. It proved to be a very cheap
water cup with no artistic devices of any sort. He found and filled another
cup, and again the face appeared in the tea. He then ordered fresh
tea and refilled the cup, and once more the strange face appeared, this
time with a mocking smile. But Second Eye did not allow himself to be
frightened. Whoever you are, he muttered, you shall delude me no further.
Then he swallowed the tea, face and all, and went on his
way, wondering whether he had swallowed a ghost. Late in the evening of
the same day, while on watch in the palace of the Lord Nakagawa,
second I was surprised by the soundless coming of a stranger into the apartment.
This stranger, a richly dressed young samurai, seated himself directly in front of
second I, and saluting the wakato with a slight bow, observed, I
am shikibu Henai met you to day for the first time. You do not
seem to recognize me, he spoke in a very low but penetrating voice,
and sekiin I was astonished to find before him the same sinister, handsome face
of which he had seen and swallowed the apparition in a cup of tea.
It was smiling now as the phantom had smiled, but the steady gaze of
the eyes above the smiling lips, was at once a challenge and an insult.
No, I do not recognize you, returned secin. I angry but
cool, and perhaps you will now be good enough to inform me how you
obtained admission to this house. In feudal times, the residence of a lord
was strictly guarded at all hours, and no one could enter unannounced, except
through some unpardonable negligence on the part of the armed watch. Ah, you
do not recognize me, exclaimed the visitor, in a tone of irony,
drawing a little nearer as he spoke. No, you do not recognize me,
yet you took upon yourself this morning to do me a deadly injury.
Secondny instantly seized the tanto at his girdle and made a fierce thrust at the
throat of the man, but the blade seemed to touch no substance. Simultaneously
and soundlessly, the intruder leaped sideward to the chamber wall and through it.
The wall showed no trace of his exit. He had traversed it only as
the light of a candle passes through lantern paper. When Second Eye made report
of the incident, his recital astonished and puzzled the retainers. No stranger had
been seen either to enter or leave the palace at the hour of the occurrence,
and no one in the service of the Lord Nakagawa had ever heard of
the name shikibu Heinai. On the following night, second I was off duty
and remained at home with his parents. At a rather late hour, he
was informed that some strangers had called at the house and desired to speak with
him for a moment. Taking his sword, he went to the entrance,
and there found three armed men, apparently retainers, waiting in front of the
door step. The three bowed respectful to second Eye, and one of them
said, our names are Matsuoka Bungo, Suchi Bashi Bungo, and Oko Mura
Heiroku. We are retainers of the noble shikibu Henai. When our master last
night deigned to pay you a visit, you struck him with a sword.
He was much will hurt and has been obliged to go to the hot springs,
where his wound is now being treated. But on the sixteenth day of
the coming month he will return, and he will then fitly repay you for
the injury done him. Without waiting to hear more. Second, I leaped
out, sword in hand, and slashed right and left at the strangers.
But the three men sprang to the wall of the adjoining building and flitted up
the wall like shadows. And here the old narrative breaks off. The rest
of the story existed only in some brain that has been dust for a century.
I am able to imagine several possible endings, but none of them would
satisfy an occidental imagination. I preferred to let the reader attempt to decide for
himself the probable consequence of swallowing a soul and of in a cup of tea.