"That picture was painted by Hishigawa Kichibei,--painted from
life. The person whom it represented is not now in the world.
But it is said that Hishigawa Kichibei painted her mind as well
as her form, and that her spirit lives in the picture. So I
think that you can win her."
Tokkei half rose from his bed, and stared eagerly at the
speaker.
"You must give her a name," the old man continued;--"and you
must sit before her picture every day, and keep your thoughts
constantly fixed upon her, and call her gently by the name which
you have given her, _until she answers you_...."
"Answers me!" exclaimed the lover, in breathless amazement.
"Oh, yes," the adviser responded, "she will certainly answer
you. But you must be ready, when she answers you, to present her
with what I am going to tell you...."
"I will give her my life!" cried Tokkei.
"No," said the old man;--"you will present her with a cup of
wine that has been bought at one hundred different wine-shops.
Then she will come out of the screen to accept the wine. After
that, probably she herself will tell you what to do."
With these words the old man went away. His advice aroused
Tokkei from despair. At once he seated himself before the
picture, and called it by the name of a girl--(what name the
Japanese narrator has forgotten to tell us)--over and over
again, very tenderly. That day it made no answer, nor the next
day, nor the next. But Tokkei did not lose faith or patience;
and after many days it suddenly one evening answered to its
name,--
"_Hai!_" (Yes.)
Then quickly, quickly, some of the wine from a hundred different
wine-shops was poured out, and reverentially presented in a
little cup. And the girl stepped from the screen, and walked
upon the matting of the room, and knelt to take the cup from
Tokkei's hand,--asking, with a delicious smile:--
"How could you love me so much?"
Says the Japanese narrator: "She was much more beautiful than the
picture,--beautiful to the tips of her finger-nails,--beautiful
also in heart and temper,--lovelier than anybody else in the
world." What answer Tokkei made to her question is not recorded:
it will have to be imagined.
"But will you not soon get tired of me?" she asked.
"Never while I live!" he protested.
"And after--?" she persisted;--for the Japanese bride is not
satisfied with love for one life-time only.
"Let us pledge ourselves to each other," he entreated, "for the
time of seven existences."
"If you are ever unkind to me," she said, "I will go back to the
screen."
* * * * *
They pledged each other. I suppose that Tokkei was a good
boy,--for his bride never returned to the screen. The space that
she had occupied upon it remained a blank.
* * * * *