have been fond of you, and I am sure that if I were to disappear you would
find a replacement in no time. He will win out in the end, I am sure."
What a terrible thing to say--and he was not joking. "How do you
suppose he will feel if he hears of these snide insinuations?" She turned
away. "I have worries enough without having to defend myself against
completely groundless charges."
He looked at her solemnly. "And how will you feel if you find that
I am really angry with you? I have done rather a great deal for you, I think.
There are those who say I have done too much. You obviously rank me
several grades below him. Well, that I can accept as fate. But it hurts me
that you should seem so bent on keeping secrets from me."
All the while he was marveling upon the forces of destiny that had
made him seek the girl out. Tears came to his eyes. Moved to pity,
Nakanokimi wondered what sort of rumors he could have picked up. She
fell silent. His first visit to her had been the merest prank, and he could
not have come away with any high regard for her determination to guard
her honor. The mistake had been in admitting and indeed in feeling grate-
ful for the services of a gentleman who, though without close ties to the
Uji family, had chosen to act as intermediary. It was because of the initial
<P 987>
mistake that she must put up with these insults. She presented a charming
and pathetic figure as she lay sunk in her worries. Not wanting her to know
for a time that he had found Ukifune, he sought to make her think he had
good reasons for berating her. She concluded that her apparent flirtation
with Kaoru lay at the heart of the matter. Someone had been talking.
Unable to guess what exactly he might be charging her with, she wanted
to run and hide.
An unexpected letter came from the empress. Careful to go on looking
displeased, Niou withdrew to his own rooms. It said in part: "His Majesty
was much upset at your absence yesterday. Unless you are indisposed,
please do come today. It has been rather a long time since I last saw you
myself."
He was sorry to discommode his parents, but he really was not feeling
well. He did not go to court. Large numbers of high-ranking courtiers came
by but he stayed behind blinds the whole day. In the evening Kaoru called.
Asking that he be shown in, Niou received him in dishabille.
"Her Majesty was terribly alarmed when she heard that you had not
been well. What might the trouble be?"
The sight of him made Niou's breath come more rapidly. Here I am
in the presence of our resident saint, he was thinking; but he smells a little
of the vagrant saint, I fear. Such a sweet girl, and he keeps her off in the
mountains all for himself, and leaves her waiting week after week. Niou
thought his friend sanctimonious, giving assurances of his sincerity when
nothing in the conversation seemed to call for them. Always assiduous in
his search for openings, was he not to take delicious advantage of this new
secret? But sarcasm did not fit his mood. He wished that Kaoru would go
away.
"This will not do," said Kaoru most solicitously as he got up to leave.
"You may think it is nothing at all, but when these little complaints refuse
to clear up after a few days they can be dangerous. You must take care of
yourself."
The man had a remarkable way of making one feel defeated, thought
Niou. And how would the girl at Uji be rating them against each other,
Kaoru and himself? So each passing incident brought her back--not that
she was ever far away.
At Uji the days went by in dull procession, now that the trip to
Ishiyama no longer offered relief. Niou wrote at almost tedious length of
his impatience and frustration. Knowing that he could not be too careful,
he chose for his messenger a man of Tokikata's who knew little of the
situation at Uji. The man always went to Ukon.
"We were very fond of each other, once upon a time," said Ukon to
her fellows. "He discovered me here when he came with the general, and
now he wants to be friends again." She had become adept at lying.
The First Month passed. A trip to Uji was for Niou almost an impossi-
bility, however restless he might be. He was sure that this new obsession
<P 988>
was taking years from his life; and so there came thoughts of death to
intensify the gloom.
Kaoru, meanwhile, having a brief respite from his duties, set off in his
usual quiet way for Uji. He went first to pay his respects and offer a prayer
at the monastery. In the evening, after distributing gifts to the monks
whom he had put to invoking the holy name, he went on to the Uji villa.
Though incognito might have been appropriate, he had made no attempt
to hide his rank. In informal but careful court dress, he was the embodi-
ment of calm nobility. How could she possibly receive him? thought
Ukifune, in near panic. The very skies seemed to reproach her. The dashing
figure of his rival came back to her. Could she see him again? Niou had
said that she had every chance of driving all his other ladies away and
capturing his affections for herself alone. She had heard that he was ill and
had sharply curtailed his affairs, and that his house echoed with services
for his recovery. How hurt he would be when he learned of this visit!
Kaoru was very different. He had an air as of unsounded depths and a
quiet, meditative dignity. He used few words as he apologized for his
remissness and he said almost nothing that suggested loneliness and depri-
vation. Yet he did say, choosing his words most carefully, that he had
wanted to see her, and his controlled earnestness moved her more than any
number of passionate avowals could have. He was very handsome; but
that aside, she was sure that he would be a more reliable support, over long
years, than Niou. It would be a great loss if he were to catch word of the
strange turn her affections had taken. Niou's improbable behavior had left
its mark, and she had to thank him for it; but he was altogether too
impetuous. She could expect nothing of an enduring nature from him. She
would be very sad indeed if Kaoru were to fling her away in anger.
She was a sad little figure, lost in the turmoil of her thoughts. She had
matured, acquired new composure, over the months. No doubt, in the
boredom of country life, she had had time for meditation.
"The house I am building is almost finished." His tone was more
intimate and affectionate than usual. "I went to see it the other day. The
waters are gentle, as different as they can be from this wild river, and the
garden has all the flowers of the city. It is very near my Sanjo~ place.
Nothing need keep us from seeing each other every day. I'd like to move
you there in the spring, I think, if you don't mind."
Niou could scarcely have known of his friend's plans when, in a letter
the day before, he had spoken of finding a quiet place for her. She was very
sorry, but she should not yield further, she knew, to his advances. And yet
his image did keep floating before her eyes. What a wretched predicament
to be in!
"Life was much easier and much pleasanter," said Kaoru, "back in the
days when you were not quite so given to tears. Has someone been talking
about me? Would a person in my position come over such a long and
difficult road if he had less than the best intentions?"
<P 989>
He went to the veranda railing and sat gazing at the new moon. They
were both lost in thoughts, he of the past, of days and people now gone,
she of the future and her growing troubles. The scene was perfection: the
hills were veiled in a mist, and crested herons had gathered at a point along
the frozen strand. Far down the river, where the Uji bridge cut its dim arc,
faggot-laden boats were weaving in and out. All the details peculiar to the
place were brought together. When he looked out upon the scene it was
always as if events of old were fresh before his eyes. Even had he been with
someone for whom he cared nothing, the air of Uji would have brought
on strange feelings of intimacy. How much more so in the company of a
not unworthy substitute for Oigimi. Ukifune was gaining all the while in
assurance and discernment, in her awareness of how city people behaved,
and she was more beautiful each time he saw her. At a loss to console her,
for it seemed that her tears were about to spill over, he offered a poem:
"No need to grieve. The Uji bridge stands firm.
They too stand firm, the promises I have made you.
"I am sure that you know what I mean."
She replied:
<P 990>
"The bridge has gaps, one crosses gingerly.
Can one be sure it will not rot away?"
He found it more difficult than ever to leave her. But people talked,
and he would have his fill of her company once he had moved her to the
city. He left at dawn. These evidences of improvement added to the sorrow
of parting.
Toward the middle of the Second Month the court assembled to
compose Chinese poety. Both Niou and Kaoru were present. The music
was appropriate to the season, and Niou was in fine voice as he sang "A
Branch of Plum." Yes, he was the most accomplished of them all, every-
one said. His one failing, not an easy one to forgive, was a tendency to lose
himself in amorous dalliance of an unworthy sort.
It began to snow and a wind had come up. The festivities were quickly
halted and everyone withdrew to Niou's rooms, where a light repast was
served. Kaoru was called out to receive a message. The snow, now deeper,
was dimly lit by the stars. The fragrance which he sent back into the room
made one think how uselessly "the spring night's darkness" was laboring
to blot it out.
"Does she await me?" he said to himself, able somehow to infuse
even such tiny, disjointed fragments of poetry with sudden life.
Of all the poems he could have picked, thought Niou. His heart
racing, he pretended to be asleep. Clearly his friend's feelings for Ukifune
passed the ordinary. He had hoped that the lady at the bridge had spread
her cloak for him alone, and it was sad and annoying that Kaoru should
have similar hopes. Drawn to such a man, could the girl possibly shift her
affections to a trifler like himself?
The next day, with snow drifted high outside, the courtiers appeared
in the imperial presence to read their poems. Niou was very handsome,
indeed at his youthful best. Kaoru, perhaps because he was two or three
years o1der, seemed the calmer and more mature of the two, the model
of the personable, cultivated young aristocrat. Everyone agreed that the
emperor could not have found a better son-in-law. He had unusual literary
abilities and a good head for practical matters as well. Their poems read,
the courtiers withdrew. The assembly was loud in proclaiming the superi-
ority of Niou's, but he was not pleased. How easygoing they were, he said
to himself, how fortunate to have room in their heads for such trivia.
Some days later, unsettled still at Kaoru's behavior that snowy eve-
ning, Niou made elaborate excuses and set out for Uji. In the capital only
traces of snow remained, as if awaiting a companion, but in the moun-
<P 991>
tains the drifts were gradually deeper. The road was even more difficult
than he had remembered it. His men were near tears from apprehension
and fatigue. The secretary who had been his guide to Uji was also vice-
minister of rites. Both positions carried heavy responsibilities, and it was
ridiculous to see him hitching up his trousers like any ordinary foot soldier.
The people at Uji had been warned, but were sure that he would not
brave the snow. Then, late in the night, word was brought in to Ukon of
his arrival. So he really was fond of her, thought Ukifune. Ukon's worries
--how would it all end? she had been asking herself--dropped away, at
least for the night. There was no way of turning him back, and she con-
cluded that someone else must now be made a partner in the conspiracy.
She chose the woman Jiju~, who was another of Ukifune's special favorites,
and who could be trusted not to talk.
"It is most improper, I know," said Ukon, "but we must stand together
and keep it from the others."
They led him inside. The perfume from his wet robes, flooding into
the deepest corners of the hall, could have been troublesome; but they told
everyone, convincingly enough, that their visitor was Kaoru. To go back
before dawn would be worse than not to have come at all; yet someone
was certain to spy him out in the morning light. He had therefore asked
Tokikata to have a certain house beyond the river made ready. Tokikata,
who had gone on ahead to see to the arrangements, returned late in the
night and reported that everything was in the best of order. Ukon too was
wondering how he meant to keep the escapade a secret. She had been
awakened from deep slumber and she was trembling like a child lost in the
snow.
Without a word, he took Ukifune up in his arms and carried her off.
Jiju~ followed after and Ukon was left to watch the house. Soon they were
aboard one of the boats that had seemed so fragile out on the river. As they
rowed into the stream, she clung to Niou, frightened as an exile to some
hopelessly distant shore. He was delighted. The moon in the early-morn-
ing sky shone cloudless upon the waters. They were at the Islet of the
Oranges said the boatman, pulling up at a large rock over which ever-
greens trailed long branches.
"See," said Niou, "they are fragile pines, no more, but their green is
so rich and deep that it lasts a thousand years.
"A thousand years may pass, it will not waver,
This vow I make in the lee of the Islet of Oranges."
What a very strange place to be, thought the girl.
"The colors remain, here on the Islet of Oranges.
