AMONG the many difficult cases which are said to have been satisfactorily settled by the penetration and sagacity of the great judge, Oka Tadasuke,^* Lord of Echizen, town magistrate of Yedo, is one which has been handed down to the present century under the name of "A Braggart's Narrow Escape."

* Pronounced Tah-dah´-skeh.

I.

      In the district of Yedo (now Tokyo) known as Shitaya, there lived in the middle of the last century, an old furniture-dealer named Yaichi.^† He was a good-natured fellow and clever enough in his business; but he bore the unfortunate reputation of being an inveterate liar; and like most liars he was also a coward. He had always a tale to tell of his own wonderful acuteness or ingenuity or good luck; but his powers of invention had been so often proved that no one believed his stories any longer. But such persons are never cured by rebuffs, and Yaichi went on spinning his yarns, year after year, until at last his characteristic failing brought him into a peck of trouble.

† Pronounced Yah´-itch-y.

      He was returning late one night from a call on a friend in the Honcha ward, not particularly pleased with the journey before him, when suddenly he heard a rush from behind, and felt a sharp pain in his leg. With a convulsive jump of fear, he drew his sword, turned and made a sweep in the air, and there fell dead at his feet a wandering dog, which had darted out at him from behind a neighboring tree. Yaichi was immensely relieved at discovering the nature of the assailant, and started again for home. His teeth chattered from his terrible fright, but as it wore off he thought he saw a good chance at last to make his friends believe in his physical powers. There was a great outcry when he arrived at the house; for his legs were covered with the blood of the dog, and his sword and belt bore similar stains. Some of the neighbors were roused, and soon Yaichi had the supreme satisfaction of recounting to the awe-struck group a tale of astonishing valor, — how a robber of extraordinary stature came upon him in a dark passage, how he first trembled, then grew bold, and withstood the villain manfully, how he parried every attack of the robber, and finally killed him with a single blow. The proofs he offered were more than enough to convince the usually doubting friends; his pale face, his blood-stained garments, and above all, the reddened sword was clear evidence of a severe struggle, and Yaichi's bodily presence was proof enough that he was not the defeated one. This time he had admiration enough to eradicate for the present all memory of the incredulous sneers of the past; Yaichi's happiness was complete.
 

II.

      The sun was high when he woke the next day; but it was a rough waking and it put an end to his brief happiness. Two policemen were binding him with cords, and his wife sat by in tears. His entreaties for an explanation were made to deaf ears, and he found himself without much ado on his way to the Town Magistrate's Court, and kneeling before Oka, Lord of Echizen, the famous judge, the terror of evil-doers and the support of all good citizens. "So you are the fellow," said Oka, "that murdered Sannosuke^* last night in the Honcho ward, and took his money? Well, we found you sooner than I expected."

* Pronounced Sǎn-nǒs´-kě.

      Then the fatuity of his conduct revealed itself to Yaichi. In his foolish desire to tell a big story he had given an account of himself which now threatened to put an end to all his story-telling forever. But it was not too late to set himself right, it would be easy to tell just what had happened, and they would find the dog's carcass there to prove what he said. "Oh no," he cried, "it was all a mistake, your Honor; that story of mine was a foolish invention, a mere boast; what really happened was that a dog came up and attacked me, and I killed him on the spot; that is how the blood came on my clothes and my sword. I know nothing at all about this Sannosuke that you speak of." "Well," said Oka, "How are we to know that this dog story is not another invention? It seems you are well known for your inventions." "You will surely find the dog's carcass, your Honor, if only you will order a search in the Honcho ward," asserted the terrified Yaichi, now quite beside himself. So the prisoner was remanded until the next day.
 

III.

      Now Oka, during his colloquy with the unfortunate braggart, had made up his mind that the guilty person was not before him. The coward and the good-natured fellow, as well as the braggart, were revealed in Yaichi's face, in his tones, in his gestures, by marks which were almost unmistakable to one who owed his fame and his position to an unexampled genius for character-reading; and Yaichi was immediately set down, in Oka's mind, for an innocent fool. But this did not mean that he could be released; for the dead man's family had accused Yaichi, and Oka must in some way show reasonable ground for discharging him; moreover the proofs, though circumstantial, were strong, and what added to their strength was that in the course of the day the detectives returned without finding any trace of the dog which Yaichi asserted he had killed.

      So during the day Oka addressed himself to the examination of the deceased man's wife, who had been the first in the morning to bring the news of the murder. "Tell me now," he said, speaking with tones of sympathy and consolation, "why your husband left his home last night, and how you learned of his death?" "My husband," she replied, "has for some time been in the habit of depositing his savings in a bank in the Honcho ward, and yesterday afternoon he went out to draw the full amount and pay a pressing debt. He probably stayed to supper with some friend and started home late in the evening. He did not return last night, and this morning early I told the neighbors. The news spread, and one of my intimate friends, named Monzo, came and told me that my husband had been murdered, and that a man named Yaichi had done it. This Yaichi had come home last night with a bloody sword, and said that he had killed a man in the Honcho ward." "Let me see," said Oka, "how old a man is this neighbor of yours, Monzo? and is he married?" "He is a very worthy man, sir;" replied the widow, "he is about fifty-five years old, and has a wife and three children; I said he was my intimate friend, but of course I mean that he was a great friend of my dear husband also." She added this, for the woman fancied that she perceived a subtle insinuation in the inquiry of Oka regarding the age and condition of her friend Monzo.

      Oka sat for several moments without speaking. Then, "I am sorry for your affliction," he said, in a kind voice, "and I shall set aside a small sum of money for your support during the trial. It is not at hand now; so you will have to send for it to-morrow by some messenger. And let the messenger ask for me personally." The grateful widow thanked him with tears in her eyes, and little suspecting Oka's train of thought, withdrew to her home.
 

IV.

      On the morrow her messenger presented himself in due time, and was shown into Oka's presence as soon as the latter was at leisure. He was a good-looking man, not yet in the prime of life, and gave the name of — Monzo.

      When Oka heard this name, his heart beat triumphantly within him, for now he knew that his intelligence had not erred and that the author of the crime was before him. But he blandly said: "You are the widow's messenger, are you? Well, it is certainly very kind in you to take so much trouble on her account, and she is to be congratulated on having such a faithful friend. By the way, what is your age?" "I am just thirty-five years old," answered the widow's friend, who wondered why the judge cared to be informed on this point. "And are you married?" continued Oka, twining the net of interrogation still tighter about the unsuspecting Monzo. "I was married several years ago," he replied, "but my wife died, and I have no children."

      "Now, as to this robber who murdered Sannosuke," went on Oka, going suddenly to the subject of the crime, "As you knew the deceased intimately, you doubtless have some information as to the identity of the assailant; have you not?" "I, your Honor?" exclaimed Monzo, indignantly, "how should I know who murdered Sannosuke? I was an intimate friend of his, but I was not his keeper."

      Then the Lord of Echizen leaned back and laughed loud and long. Three times had Monzo directly contradicted the story of the dead man's widow. The miserable man turned pale, for the magistrate's laughter boded ill. "Why," said the magistrate, "were you such a wretch as to murder one who was your friend? "You are mistaken sir," protested Monzo; "I am no murderer. What proof have you that I killed Sannosuke?" "Proof, you knave? Do you ask me for proof? Well, you shall hear. When the widow came here yesterday, she told me that an intimate friend had brought her information of the death of Sannosuke, and that you were this intimate friend. She was particular to state, in order to dispel the suspicion which her guilty mind foresaw, that you were over fifty years old — which you are not, — and that you had a family, which you have not. This eagerness of yours to tell the news, this sole possession of it by yourself, seemed worth inquiring into; and the result of my men's search in your house was this purse of Sannosuke, which I now hold," showing it, "and the bloody sword of yours, which you see over there. The law forbids me to condemn you without a confession; but your guilt is clear, and you may as well. own to your villainy."

      At this sudden turn of affairs Monzo was confounded; his heart failed him, and he made a complete confession. It seemed that he and Sannosuke's wife, already too intimate, had plotted to put Sannosuke out of the way at an early opportunity. His errand at the bank had furnished a good chance, to give to the crime the appearance of an ordinary highway robbery, and the affair was further assisted by the accident of Yaichi's midnight adventure in the same ward, and by Yaichi's foolish fabrication.

      Monzo and the widow, of course, suffered the penalty of their crime on the scaffold at the Kozuka Field. As for Yaichi, the eminent magistrate, on releasing him, gave him a well-timed lecture on the folly of his habit of lying, and Yaichi's thankfulness at his escape was such that for some time he was never known to change one tittle of the truth. But indeed the story of his danger was marvelous enough in itself to relieve him for a while from any temptation to invent. He was never tired of telling it with increasing embellishments, and among the neighbors and townspeople it became known ever after as "A Braggart's Narrow Escape."