clad palace guards stood continually before her gate, for now the tumble-down wall, more bedewed with moisture than the outside moorland, seemed as if it understood the change of times and resented the incessant shrilling of the insects. Though the nights grew longer, the Empress could not sleep. She brooded continually over her melancholy condition, and this, added to the natural sadness of autumn, became almost too much for her to bear. In the changed world there was none to feel sympathy for her, and all those of her affinity were gone, leaving none to cherish her in her need.
Only the wife of Takafusa and the wife of Nobutaka used to help her secretly. “Ah,” she exclaimed, “in former days who would have ever dreamed that I should come to accept anything from such as these?” The Empress thought that she would like to go somewhere far away in the depths of the mountains to spend her days remote from all sound of unrest, for her present dwelling was too near the capital and attracted the eyes of curious passers-by. For some time she did not hear of any suitable spot, but a lady came to tell her of a place in the mountains of Ohara, north of the capital, called the Jakkō-in. “A mountain abode is very lonely, it is true,” she answered, “but it would be good to live in a place remote from the troubles of this world.” The matter was settled, and the wives of Nobutaka and Takafusa sent a palanquin to fetch her.
At the end of the ninth month she proceeded to the temple of the Jakkō-in. As they went along she gazed at the beauty of the autumn tints while the sun sank gradually behind the mountains. The dreary boom of the evening bell of a wayside temple, and the thick-lying dew on the grass as they went by drew tears from her eyes. A fierce gale was whirling the leaves from the trees in all directions. Suddenly the sky grew dark and the autumn drizzle began to fall; the cry of a deer sounded faintly, and the shrilling of the insects was incessant. Nothing was wanting to add to the sum of her afflictions, which seemed indeed such as few had been made to suffer. Even when she had been driven about from shore to shore and from island to island her melancholy was not to be compared to this.
The place she had chosen to dwell was ancient and surrounded by mossy rocks. The reeds in the garden were now covered with hoar-
