had found her son yet.
At sunset, still undaunted, she placed a candle before the memorial tablets of her husband's ancestors. She sat down, seemingly lost in prayer, as immobile as a statue. Since everyone was still out searching, there was no evening meal at the house, and when night fell and there was still no news, Osugi finally moved. As if in a trance, she walked slowly out of the house to the front gate. There she stood and waited, hidden in the darkness. A watery moon shone through the oak tree branches, and the mountains looming before and behind the house were veiled in a white mist. The sweetish scent of pear blossoms floated in the air.
Time, too, floated by unnoticed. Then a figure could be discerned approaching, making its way along the outer edge of the pear orchard. Recognizing the silhouette as Otsū's, Osugi called out and the girl ran forward, her wet sandals clomping heavily on the earth.
"Otsū! They told me you saw Takezō. Is that true?"
"Yes, I'm sure it was him. I spotted him in the crowd outside the temple." "You didn't see Matahachi?"
"No. I rushed out to ask Takezō about him, but when I called out, Takezō jumped like a scared rabbit. I caught his eye for a second and then he was gone. He's always been strange, but I can't imagine why he ran away like that."
"Ran away?" asked Osugi with a puzzled air. She began to muse, and the longer she did so, the more a terrible suspicion took shape in her mind. It was becoming clear to her that the Shimmen boy, that ruffian Takezō she so hated for luring her precious Matahachi off to war, was once more up to no good.
At length she said ominously, "That wretch! He's probably left poor Matahachi to die somewhere, then sneaked back home safe and sound. Coward, that's what he is!" Osugi began to shake in fury and her voice rose to a shriek. "He can't hide from me!"
Otsū remained composed. "Oh, I don't think he'd do anything like that. Even if he did have to leave Matahachi behind, surely he'd bring us word or at least some keepsake from him." Otsū sounded shocked by the old woman's hasty accusation.
Osugi, however, was by now convinced of Takezō's perfidy. She shook her head decisively and went on. "Oh, no he wouldn't! Not that young demon! He hasn't got that much heart. Matahachi should never have taken up with him."
"Granny . . ." Otsū said soothingly.
"What?" snapped Osugi, not soothed in the least.
"I think that if we go over to Ogin's house, we just might find Takezō there."
The old woman relaxed a bit. "You might be right. She is his sister, and there really isn't anyone else in this village who'd take him in."
"Then let's go and see, just the two of us."
Osugi balked. "I don't see why I should do that. She knew her brother had dragged my son off to war, but she never once came to apologize or to pay her respects. And now that he's back, she hasn't even come to tell me. I don't see why I should go to her. It's demeaning. I'll wait here for her."
"But this isn't an ordinary situation," replied Otsū. "Besides, the main thing at this point is to see Takezō as soon as we can. We've got to find out what happened. Oh, please, Granny, come. You won't have to do anything. I'll take care of all the formalities if you like."
Grudgingly, Osugi allowed herself to be persuaded. She was, of course, as eager as Otsū to find out what was going on, but she'd die before begging for anything from a Shimmen.
The house was about a mile away. Like the Hon'iden family, the Shimmen were country gentry, and both houses were descended from the Akamatsu clan many generations back. Situated across the river from one another, they had always tacitly recognized each other's right to exist, but that was the extent of their intimacy.
When they arrived at the front gate, they found it shut, and the trees were so thick that no light could be seen from the house. Otsū started to walk around to the back entrance, but Osugi stopped mulishly in her tracks.
"I don't