Shinzaburō knew nothing of what had happened; but his disappointment
and his anxiety had resulted in a prolonged illness. He was slowly
recovering, but still very weak, when he unexpectedly received another
visit from Yamamoto Shijō. The old man made a number of plausible
excuses for his apparent neglect. Shinzaburō said to him:—“I have been
sick ever since the beginning of spring;—even now I cannot eat
anything…. Was it not rather unkind of you never to call? I thought
that we were to make another visit together to the house of the Lady
Iijima; and I wanted to take to her some little present as a return for
our kind reception. Of course I could not go by myself.”
Shijō gravely responded,—“I am very sorry to tell you that the young
lady is dead!”
“Dead!” repeated Shinzaburō, turning white,—“did you say that she is
dead?”
The doctor remained silent for a moment, as if collecting himself: then
he resumed, in the quick light tone of a man resolved not to take
trouble seriously:—
“My great mistake was in having introduced you to her; for it seems
that she fell in love with you at once. I am afraid that you must have
said something to encourage this affection—when you were in that little
room together. At all events, I saw how she felt towards you; and then
I became uneasy,—fearing that her father might come to hear of the
matter, and lay the whole blame upon me. So—to be quite frank with
you,—I decided that it would be better not to call upon you; and I
purposely stayed away for a long time. But, only a few days ago,
happening to visit Iijima’s house, I heard, to my great surprise, that
his daughter had died, and that her servant O-Yoné had also died. Then,
remembering all that had taken place, I knew that the young lady must
have died of love for you…. [_Laughing_] Ah, you are really a sinful
fellow! Yes, you are! [_Laughing_] Isn’t it a sin to have been born so
handsome that the girls die for love of you?[2] [_Seriously_] Well, we
must leave the dead to the dead. It is no use to talk further about the
matter;—all that you now can do for her is to repeat the Nembutsu[3]….
Good-bye.”
[2] Perhaps this conversation may seem strange to the Western reader;
but it is true to life. The whole of the scene is characteristically
Japanese.
[3] The invocation _Namu Amida Butsu!_ (“Hail to the Buddha
Amitâbha!”),—repeated, as a prayer, for the sake of the dead.
And the old man retired hastily,—anxious to avoid further converse
about the painful event for which he felt himself to have been
unwittingly responsible.