The Crane Pavilion Read Online Free PDF

to climb in, sir?”
    “Not yet. Knock again.”
    Tora was still belaboring the heavy gate, when a tall, elderly gentleman came down the street. He was dressed in a fusty black robe, bareheaded, and leaning on a knobby stick. When he reached them, he stopped and watched Tora.
    Tora had turned red with his efforts and now delivered a vicious kick to the gate. “No good, sir,” he said, turning away. “We’ll have to become thieves and climb over.”
    The gentleman chuckled. “Or you could use the small gate,” he said gleefully. “We all do. Of course, your master may consider it beneath his dignity.” He cast a glance at Akitada’s fine clothes.
    “Not at all,” Akitada said stiffly. “Lead the way, sir.”
    The gentleman approached the small gate, which was cut into the larger one, poked it open with his stick, and stepped through. Akitada and Tora followed.
    Inside, he paid them no further attention and strode off toward the main house.
    Akitada took in the weedy gravel of the wide front courtyard, the massive center section of the main house with two galleries branching out toward its wings, and what must be service buildings to his left.
    “A moment, sir,” he called after the gentleman. The man paused and looked over his shoulder. Akitada went after him and said, “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”
    Bushy gray eyebrows rose. “And I don’t know yours. Let’s leave well enough alone, shall we?” And the man started off again.
    Akitada followed. “Please forgive me, sir, but I’m looking for someone who knew Lady Ogata.”
    This time the man stopped and glowered at Akitada. “And what prurient curiosity brings you here?”
    Taken aback, Akitada snapped, “I’m Sugawara Akitada.”
    The eyebrows rose another fraction. “And what precisely should that tell me?”
    Tora joined them. “Now look here, sir. What gives you the right to be rude to a man of my master’s standing?”
    The man eyed him. Suddenly he smiled. The smile made him appear younger and almost charming. He said, “I’m older than you. At my age, I can get away with bluntness. You can’t, and neither can he.”
    “Old people are supposed to have learned wisdom,” Tora pointed out angrily.
    The man snorted and turned to walk away again. Tora was about to lay hands on him, but Akitada pulled him back. “Are you by chance the retired professor who lives here on the charity of the owner?”
    The man kept going. “What if I am?”
    “The abbot is an acquaintance of mine and has asked me to pay his tenants a visit. It seems to me the least you can do is answer a few questions.”
    The man turned. “I see. Yes, I’m Professor Suketada.” He gave Akitada a long measuring glance, then nodded. “If you must be a nuisance, follow me. It’s hot in this sun, and I must conserve my energy. My room is just this way.”
    Perhaps the comment about living on charity had shamed the professor. He seemed somehow shrunken, diminished in stature. He climbed the steps to the covered corridor and then walked to one of the wings of the mansion. There he paused among a row of doors. Inside was a smallish room. Shutters on the opposite side let in some light, and Akitada saw that most of the space was taken up by books and papers. These were stacked along the walls or piled on surfaces of stands and desks. One larger desk, its lacquer cracked, held more papers and writing utensils. A single tattered tatami mat lay in the middle of the room, and some bedding was rolled up in a corner. He saw no clothes chests, but against one wall stood a leaning clothes rack, heavily laden with robes and other paraphernalia of dress. All of it seemed to be of the same rusty black color as the professor’s current outfit.
    “Have a seat,” he told them, gesturing to the mat. “I have no wine, but I’ve just bought a stuffed dumpling from a vendor. He claimed it contains fresh fish, but I doubt it.” He took a small package wrapped in oiled paper from