“That also I can do, if you will promise to bring me the hundred
_ryō_.”
“Well, mistress,” said O-Yoné, “you will wait,—will you not,—until
to-morrow night?”
“Oh, dear Yoné!” sobbed the other,—“have we to go back to-night again
without seeing Hagiwara Sama? Ah! it is cruel!”
And the shadow of the mistress, weeping, was led away by the shadow of
the maid.
X
Another day went, and another night came, and the dead came with it.
But this time no lamentation was heard without the house of Hagiwara;
for the faithless servant found his reward at the Hour of the Ox, and
removed the _o-fuda_. Moreover he had been able, while his master was
at the bath, to steal from its case the golden _mamori_, and to
substitute for it an image of copper; and he had buried the
_Kai-On-Nyōrai_ in a desolate field. So the visitants found nothing to
oppose their entering. Veiling their faces with their sleeves they rose
and passed, like a streaming of vapor, into the little window from over
which the holy text had been torn away. But what happened thereafter
within the house Tomozō never knew.
The sun was high before he ventured again to approach his master’s
dwelling, and to knock upon the sliding-doors. For the first time in
years he obtained no response; and the silence made him afraid.
Repeatedly he called, and received no answer. Then, aided by O-Miné, he
succeeded in effecting an entrance and making his way alone to the
sleeping-room, where he called again in vain. He rolled back the
rumbling shutters to admit the light; but still within the house there
was no stir. At last he dared to lift a corner of the mosquito-net. But
no sooner had he looked beneath than he fled from the house, with a cry
of horror.
Shinzaburō was dead—hideously dead;—and his face was the face of a man
who had died in the uttermost agony of fear;—and lying beside him in
the bed were the bones of a woman! And the bones of the arms, and the
bones of the hands, clung fast about his neck.