He spoke calmly enough, but his mind was in a turmoil. Added to
grief at the loss of the girl was horror, quite beyond describing, at this
desolate place. It would be past midnight. The wind was higher and whis-
tled more dolefully in the pines. There came a strange, hollow call of a bird.
Might it be an owl? All was silence, terrifying solitude. He should not have
chosen such a place--but it was too late now. Trembling violently, Ukon
clung to him. He held her in his arms, wondering if she might be about
to follow her lady. He was the only rational one present, and he could
think of nothing to do. The flickering light wandered here and there. The
upper parts of the screens behind them were in darkness, the lower parts
fitfully in the light. There was a persistent creaking, as of someone coming
up behind them. If only Koremitsu would come. But Koremitsu was a
nocturnal wanderer without a fixed abode, and the man had to search for
him in numerous places. The wait for dawn was like the passage of a
thousand nights. Finally he heard a distant crowing. What legacy from a
former life could have brought him to this mortal peril? He was being
punished for a guilty love, his fault and no one else's, and his story would
be remembered in infamy through all the ages to come. There were no
secrets, strive though one might to have them. Soon everyone would
know, from his royal father down, and the lowest court pages would be
talking; and he would gain immortality as the model of the complete fool.
Finally Lord Koremitsu came. He was the perfect servant who did not
go against his master's wishes in anything at any time; and Genji was angry
that on this night of all nights he should have been away, and slow in
answering the summons. Calling him inside even so, he could not immedi-
ately find the strength to say what must be said. Ukon burst into tears, the
full honor of it all coming back to her at the sight of Koremitsu. Genji too
lost control of himself. The only sane and rational one present, he had held
Ukon in his arms, but now he gave himself up to his grief.
"Something very strange has happened," he said after a time. "Strange
--'unbelievable' would not be too strong a word. I wanted a priest--one
does when these things happen--and asked your reverend brother to
come."
"He went back up the mountain yesterday. Yes, it is very strange
indeed. Had there been anything wrong with her?"
"Nothing."
He was so handsome in his grief that Koremitsu wanted to weep. An
older man who has had everything happen to him and knows what to
expect can be depended upon in a crisis; but they were both young, and
neither had anything to suggest.
Koremitsu finally spoke. "We must not let the caretaker know. He
may be dependable enough himself, but he is sure to have relatives who
will talk. We must get away from this place."
"You aren't suggesting that we could find a place where we would be
less likely to be seen?"
"No, I suppose not. And the women at her house will scream and wail
when they hear about it, and they live in a crowded neighborhood, and
all the mob around will hear, and that will be that. But mountain temples
are used to this sort of thing. There would not be much danger of attracting
attention." He reflected on the problem for a time. "There is a woman I
used to know. She has gone into a nunnery up in the eastern hills. She is
very old, my father's nurse, as a matter of fact. The district seems to be
rather heavily populated, but the nunnery is off by itself."
It was not yet full daylight. Koremitsu had the carriage brought up.
Since Genji seemed incapable of the task, he wrapped the body in a
covering and lifted it into the carriage. It was very tiny and very pretty,
and not at all repellent. The wrapping was loose and the hair streamed
forth, as if to darken the world before Genji's eyes.
He wanted to see the last rites through to the end, but Koremitsu
would not hear of it. "Take my horse and go back to Nijo~, now while the
streets are still quiet."
He helped Ukon into the carriage and himself proceeded on foot, the
skirts of his robe hitched up. It was a strange, bedraggled sort of funeral
procession, he thought, but in the face of such anguish he was prepared
to risk his life. Barely conscious, Genji made his way back to Nijo-.
"Where have you been?" asked the women. "You are not looking at
all well."
He did not answer. Alone in his room, he pressed a hand to his heart.
Why had he not gone with the others? What would she think if she were
to come back to life? She would think that he had abandoned her. Self-
reproach filled his heart to breaking. He had a headache and feared he had
a fever. Might he too be dying? The sun was high and still he did not
emerge. Thinking it all very strange, the women pressed breakfast upon
him. He could not eat. A messenger reported that the emperor had been
troubled by his failure to appear the day before.
His brothers-in-law came calling.
"Come in, please, just for a moment." He received only To~ no Chu~jo~
and kept a blind between them. "My old nurse fell seriously ill and took
her vows in the Fifth Month or so. perhaps because of them, she seemed
to recover. But recently she had a relapse. Someone came to ask if I would
not call on her at least once more. I thought I really must go and see an
old and dear servant who was on her deathbed, and so I went. One of her
servants was ailing, and quite suddenly, before he had time to leave, he
died. Out of deference to me they waited until night to take the body
away. All this I learned later. It would be very improper of me to go to court
with all these festivities coming up, I thought, and so I stayed away. I
have had a headache since early this morning--perhaps I have caught cold.
I must apologize."
"I see. I shall so inform your father. He sent out a search party during
the concert last night, and really seemed very upset." To~ no Chu~jo~ turned
to go, and abruptly turned back. "Come now. What sort of brush did you
really have? I don't believe a word of it."
Genji was startled, but managed a show of nonchalance. "You needn't
go into the details. Just say that I suffered an unexpected defilement. Very
unexpected, really."
Despite his cool manner, he was not up to facing people. He asked a
younger brother-in-law to explain in detail his reasons for not going to
court. He got off a note to Sanjo~ with a similar explanation.
Koremitsu came in the evening. Having announced that he had suf-
fered a defilement, Genji had callers remain outside, and there were few
people in the house. He received Koremitsu immediately.
"Are you sure she is dead?" He pressed a sleeve to his eyes.
Koremitsu too was in tears. "Yes, I fear she is most certainly dead. I
could not stay shut up in a temple indefinitely, and so I have made arrange-
ments with a venerable priest whom I happen to know rather well. Tomor-
row is a good day for funerals."
"And the other woman?"
"She has seemed on the point of death herself. She does not want to
be left behind by her lady. I was afraid this morning that she might throw
herself over a cliff. She wanted to tell the people at Gojo~, but I persuaded
her to let us have a little more time."
"I am feeling rather awful myself and almost fear the worst."
"Come, now. There is nothing to be done and no point in torturing
yourself. You must tell yourself that what must be must be. I shall let
absolutely no one know, and I am personally taking care of everything."
"Yes, to be sure. Everything is fated. So I tell myself. But it is terrible
to think that I have sent a lady to her death. You are not to tell your sister,
and you must be very sure that your mother does not hear. I would not
survive the scolding I would get from her."
"And the priests too: I have told them a plausible story." Koremitsu
exuded confidence.
The women had caught a hint of what was going on and were more
puzzled than ever. He had said that he had suffered a defilement, and he
was staying away from court; but why these muffled lamentations?
Genji gave instructions for the funeral. "You must make sure that
nothing goes wrong."
"Of course. No great ceremony seems called for."
Koremitsu turned to leave.
"I know you won't approve," said Genji, a fresh wave of grief sweep-
ing over him, "but I will regret it forever if I don't see her again. I'll go on
horseback."
"Very well, if you must." In fact Koremitsu thought the proposal very
ill advised. "Go immediately and be back while it is still early."
Genji set out in the travel robes he had kept ready for his recent
amorous excursions. He was in the bleakest despair. He was on a strange
mission and the terrors of the night before made him consider turning
back. Grief urged him on. If he did not see her once more, when, in another
world, might he hope to see her as she had been? He had with him only
Koremitsu and the attendant of that first encounter. The road seemed a
long one.
The moon came out, two nights past full. They reached the river. In
the dim torchlight, the darkness off towards Mount Toribe was ominous
and forbidding; but Genji was too dazed with grief to be frightened. And
so they reached the temple.
It was a harsh, unfriendly region at best. The board hut and chapel
where the nun pursued her austerities were lonely beyond description. The
light at the altar came dimly through cracks. Inside the hut a woman was
weeping. In the outer chamber two or three priests were conversing and
invoking the holy name in low voices. Vespers seemed to have ended in
several temples nearby. Everything was quiet. There were lights and there
seemed to be clusters of people in the direction of Kiyomizu. The grand
tones in which the worthy monk, the son of the nun, was reading a sutra
brought on what Genji thought must be the full flood tide of his tears.
He went inside. The light was turned away from the corpse. Ukon lay
behind a screen. It must be very terrible for her, thought Genji. The girl's
face was unchanged and very pretty.
"Won't you let me hear your voice again?" He took her hand. "What
was it that made me give you all my love, for so short a time, and then
made you leave me to this misery?" He was weeping uncontrollably.
The priests did not know who he was. They sensed something re-
markable, however, and felt their eyes mist over.
"Come with me to Nijo~," he said to Ukon.
"We have been together since I was very young. I never left her side,
not for a single moment. Where am I to go now? I will have to tell the
others what has happened. As if this weren't enough, I will have to put
up with their accusations." She was sobbing. "I want to go with her."
"That is only natural. But it is the way of the world. Parting is always
sad. Our lives must end, early or late. Try to put your trust in me." He
comforted her with the usual homilies, but presently his real feelings came
out. "put your trust in me--when I fear I have not long to live myself."
He did not after all seem likely to be much help.
"It will soon be light," said Koremitsu. "We must be on our way."
Looking back and looking back again, his heart near breaking, Genji
went out. The way was heavy with dew and the morning mists were thick.
He scarcely knew where he was. The girl was exactly as she had been that
night. They had exchanged robes and she had on a red singlet of his. What
might it have been in other lives that had brought them together? He
managed only with great difficulty to stay in his saddle. Koremitsu was at
the reins. As they came to the river Genji fell from his horse and was
unable to remount.
"So I am to die by the wayside? I doubt that I can go on."
Koremitsu was in a panic. He should not have permitted this expedi-
tion, however strong Genji's wishes. Dipping his hands in the river, he
turned and made supplication to Kiyomizu. Genji somehow pulled himself
together. Silently invoking the holy name, he was seen back to Nijo~.
The women were much upset by these untimely wanderings. "Very
bad, very bad. He has been so restless lately. And why should he have gone
out again when he was not feeling well?"
Now genuinely ill, he took to his bed. Two or three days passed and
he was visibly thinner. The emperor heard of the illness and was much
alarmed. Continuous prayers were ordered in this shrine and that temple.
The varied rites, Shinto and Confucian and Buddhist, were beyond count-
ing. Genji's good looks had been such as to arouse forebodings. All through
the court it was feared that he would not live much longer. Despite his
illness, he summoned Ukon to Nijo~ and assigned her rooms near his own.
Koremitsu composed himself sufficiently to be of service to her, for he
could see that she had no one else to turn to. Choosing times when he was
feeling better, Genji would summon her for a talk, and she soon was
accustomed to life at Nijo~. Dressed in deep mourning, she was a somewhat
stern and forbidding young woman, but not without her good points.
"It lasted such a very little while. I fear that I will be taken too. It must
be dreadful for you, losing your only support. I had thought that as long
as I lived I would see to all your needs, and it seems sad and ironical that
I should be on the point of following her." He spoke softly and there were
tears in his eyes. For Ukon the old grief had been hard enough to bear, and
now she feared that a new grief might be added to it.
