but I think there can be no other example anywhere of such absolute
devotion."
Yes, thought Jiju~, Niou was showing a most laudable concern. And the
details of this unusual event would not be kept secret forever. "If there
were even the slightest chance that someone had run off with her, do you
think we would be carrying on as you see us? She had been in bad spirits
for some time, and then there were those unpleasant hints that the general
had found out, and her mother and Nurse here--it's she who is making
all the noise--they were all caught up in the excitement of sending her off
to the man who seemed to have first claim; and so I would imagine that
longing for the prince just drove her out of her mind. It was too much for
her. And now she has done away with herself, body and soul, and that is
the reason for the sentiments you are getting such an earful of."
She still had not precisely come out with it. Ambiguities remained.
"Well, I'll come again. Too much is left out when you can't sit down for
a good talk. I rather imagine that the prince will be visiting you."
"That would be a very great honor. If the world were to learn that he
was fond of her, then it would seem that her stars were good to her. But
she did keep it a secret, and perhaps she would rest more easily if he were
to do the same. We do not mean to tell anyone that she died an unnatural
death." She did not want him to know that the body had not been found.
He was clever and would soon guess the truth, and so she hurried him on
his way.
<N 3>
Ukifune's mother, quite beside herself, arrived in a pouring rain. "It
is sad enough to have someone die before your eyes. But that is the way
of the world. What _can_ have become of her?"
Unaware of the dilemma that had so filled these last days, she had no
reason to suspect that the girl had thrown herself into the river. Might
some fiend have devoured her? Might a fox spirit, or some equally sinister
force, have led her off? There were strange incidents in old romances, and
there was one lady in particular whom the girl had cause to fear. Had
some malicious nurse, perhaps, resenting the proposed move to the city,
been conspiring against her?
The mother's first thought was of the serving women. "Is there any-
thing suspicious about the new ones?"
<P 1016>
"None of them are here, my lady. We are so far away from things that
the ones who hadn't really settled down kept complaining about not being
able to get anything done. So they went home, all of them, and took along
the things they were getting ready for the move to the city, and said they'd
be back."
The house did seem rather inadequately attended. Even women who
had been in service at Uji since the Eighth Prince's time had gone home.
Jiju~ and the others spoke of the girl's unhappiness over the days. She had
said more than once, weeping, that she wanted to die.
Under an inkstone Jiju~ found the poem about the "sullied name." She
looked out at the river, and shuddered at the roar of the waters.
She conferred with Ukon. "It is sad to have them go on wondering.
The affair with Prince Niou was not her responsibility and there is no
reason at all for her mother to feel guilty or ashamed--he _is_ a prince, after
all. Suppose we tell her. The suspense must be killing her. We can't pro-
duce a body, and it's only a matter of time till rumors get out. Yes, we must
tell her, and see what we can do then to make things look somewhat
respectable."
In quiet tones, they told what they knew, and sank back into silent
grief. So the child had fallen victim to this awful river, thought the gover-
nor's wife, only half conscious of what she had heard. She had hated it so
herself, and now she wanted to jump in after the girl.
"Let's send people out to look for her, then. Let's at least find the body
and have a decent funeral."
"There would be no point in it. She will be drifting out to sea by now,
and there would be talk."
The mother had no further suggestions.
Ukon and Jiju~ ordered a carriage and loaded it with the girl's cushions
and quilts (she had slipped from them the night before) and personal
belongings. The monks were summoned who might be expected to preside
over services. The nurse's son was among them, and his uncle the ab-
bot, and various disciples, and other old gentlemen with whom the girl
had been on more or less friendly terms. The procession was made to look
as if there were a body to escort to a pyre. Mother and nurse were near
collapse from grief and (the omens were not good) foreboding.
Udoneri, who had so intimidated them all, stopped by with his son-
in-law." We ought to let the general know of the funeral, and allow time
to do it right."
"We want it to be very quiet, before the night is over."
The funeral carriage proceeded to the moor at the foot of the moun-
tain. No one was allowed near save the few monks who knew what had
happened. In a moment or two the coffin was smoke. Country people tend
<P 1017>
to be stricter in these matters than city people, and superstitious as well.
They had unfriendly comments to make upon what they had seen.
"Pretty strange, I say. Call that a proper funeral? Why, they might as
well be taking care of a scrubwoman that died on them."
"I don't know. I hear city folk do it without a fuss when brothers are
left."
Even these rustic comments had Ukon and the others on their guard;
and they had Niou and Kaoru to worry about. The world kept no secrets.
If Kaoru were to learn that there had been no body to cremate, he would
draw certain conclusions. He and Niou were close friends. He might sus-
pect for a time that Niou had spirited the girl off, but he would not go on
forever in ignorance. He would proceed to suspect other people, to look
for other abductors. She had seemed much the pet of fortune while she
lived, and now it did indeed seem that a sullied name must live after her.
Given the confusion of the morning, some of the menials might even
now be guessing the truth. Strict precautions seemed necessary.
"We will have to let it out someday, bit by bit, I suppose, if we live
long enough. But just now I'm afraid I don't have the strength. He may
hear things that will turn him against her, and that will be sad, of course."
Uneasy consciences had given them reason to keep the secret.
<N 4>
His mother having been ill, Kaoru had gone on a pilgrimage
to Ishiyama. Uji was much on his mind, but no one informed him of
the disaster. At Uji his silence was embarrassing. Then a message came
from his manor. He was stunned. Earl y the next morning he sent off a
letter.
"I know I should have gone running to you the moment I got this
terrible news, but my mother is not well, and I must stay in retreat for some
days. About the funeral last night: why did you have to hurry through it
in what I am told was such a casual fashion? You should have let me know,
and postponed it long enough to make decent arrangements. Nothing is to
be done now; but it is sad to learn that even the hill people are talking."
His messenger was that Nakanobu who had been such a close adviser.
At Uji, Nakanobu's arrival brought new outbursts of grief. The women
could think of nothing to say, and made these floods of tears their excuse
for not essaying a proper answer.
Kaoru was in despair. He had chosen the wrong place, an abode of
devils, perhaps. Why had he left her there all alone? The disaster had
occurred because he had in effect made things easy for Niou. He was angry
at his own carelessness and his inability to behave like other men. Quite
unable to give himself up to his prayers, he went back to the city.
"Though not of great importance," he sent to his wife, "something
<P 1018>
distasteful has happened to a person rather close to me; and I shall be in
retreat until the shock has passed."
What a fleeting affair it had been! The pretty face, those winning
ways, were gone forever. Why had he been so slow to act while she was
alive, why had he not pressed his cause more aggressively? Numberless
regrets burned within him, so intense that there was no quenching them.
For him, at least, love seemed to be unrelieved torment. Perhaps the pow-
ers above were angry that, against his own better impulses, he had re-
mained in the vulgar world. They had a way of hiding their mercy, of
subjecting a man to the sorest trials and imposing enlightenment upon
him. So the black thoughts ran on. He lost himself in prayer.
<N 5>
Niou's grief was more open. His household was in great confusion.
What sort of malign spirit could have taken possession of him? Presently
the tears dried and the anguish subsided; but for him too the memory of
her face and her manner brought unquenchable longing. Though he
thought of devising clever ways to make it seem that he was genuinely ill,
and so to hide these stupidly tear-swollen eyes, everyone guessed the
truth. Who, people asked, could have sent him into a despondency so
profound that it seemed to threaten his life?
Kaoru of course had full reports. His suspicions were true. Niou and
Ukifune had been more than acquaintances who exchanged little notes.
She was the sort Niou liked, a girl he would have had to make his own
once he had caught a glimpse of her. If she had lived on, she and her friend
might have made Kaoru himself look very clownish (for he and the friend
were not strangers). He found the thought somehow comforting.
Everyone was talking about Niou's indisposition. A stream of well-
wishers flowed in and out of his rooms. People would think it odd, thought
Kaoru, if, in mourning for a woman of no consequence, he failed to call.
His uncle Prince Shikibu had recently died, rather opportunely, and
Kaoru had put on somber robes. In his own mind he could call them weeds
for Ukifune. Loss of weight had if anything improved him.
He made his visit on a melancholy evening after other callers had
withdrawn. The illness was not so severe as to keep Niou in bed. He did
not, it was true, receive people with whom he was on less than familiar
terms, but he turned away no one whom he would in ordinary circum-
stances have admitted to his inner chambers. But he wished Kaoru had not
come. The encounter was sure to bring tears.
"Nothing serious, really," he said controlling himself for a time, "but
I'm told I must be careful. I hate to upset Their Majesties so. I've been
sitting here thinking how little there really is for us to depend upon."
He pressed a sleeve to his eyes, able to hold back the tears no longer.
All very embarrassing; but of course his friend, unaware of the cause, could
tax him with no more than unmanliness.
It was as he had suspected, Kaoru was in fact thinking. And when had
<P 1019>
they managed to strike up a liaison? How the two of them must have been
laughing at him all these months! His grief seemed to vanish quite away.
A very cool sort his friend was, thought Niou; indeed a rather chilly
sort. He himself, when his thoughts were too much for him, needed no
such disaster--the call of a bird flying over was enough--to bring on waves
of sorrow. Kaoru would hardly be repelled by these weak tears, even if he
had guessed their source. But perhaps this was the usual way with people
who understood the transience of things? Niou was envious, and he was
fascinated. Kaoru had known the girl too, had been the cypress pillar on
which she had leaned. Niou looked at his friend again, this time more
affectionately, as at a memento.
The desultory talk went on. Kaoru began to feel uncomfortable about
the significant spot that was being reserved for silence. "When I have
something on my mind--it has always been so--I find myself nervous and
restless if I go for even a little while without telling you of it. But I have
risen now to a modest place in the world, and you of course have far more
important matters to occupy you, and so we seldom find a chance for a
quiet talk. The days go by and I do not ask for an audience with you unless
I have a good reason. But let me come to the point. I recently learned about
a relative of the lady who died in that mountain village, you will know
the one I am speaking of--I recently learned that she was living in a rather
odd place. I thought of helping her, but unfortunately I found myself in
circumstances that made me afraid of gossip. So I left her there, and a
wretched place it was, too, and scarcely visited her at all. As time went by
I came to suspect that I was not the only one she was looking to for
support. But I would not want you to think that I was dreadfully upset.
I had certainly not thought of her as the love of my life. No one seemed
seriously at fault. She was amiable, and she was attractive, and that was
all. And then, very suddenly, she died. It is a sad world we live in. But
perhaps I am speaking of something you have already been informed of."
He had been dry-eyed until now. He would have preferred not to join his
friend in this tasteless weeping, but once they had started the tears were
not to be held back.
Niou found this break in the calm touching and at the same time
threatening. He chose to feign ignorance. "Very sad, very sad. I did hear
something about it, just yesterday. I wanted to offer condolences, but I
heard that you were avoiding publicity." He stopped short. Under the cool
surface were complex and powerful emotions.
"That is the story. I hoped there might sometime be a chance to
introduce you. Or perhaps you happened to run into her somewhere?
Perhaps she visited Nijo~? She was of course related to your princess." The
innuendos were becoming broader. "But I forget myself. I should not be
