night in the temple ever comes out alive and sound. Many came to harm even in broad dalylight in the temple or on its grounds. It happened that at night pilgrims allowed themselves to be lured by the lights that always burn in the church, and paid with their lives for their mistake. Some of the villagers, near the temple in broad daylight, caught sight of a beautiful geysha in a gaily-colored robe and with golden hairpins in her lustrous, high coiffure; she walked mincingly to the temple and on its steps turned and smiled at them; thereupon they noticed with amazement that she did not touch the ground with her feet, but floated like a spirit, in a vapor of the colors of mother-of-pearl. Others, again, saw a weeping maiden with hair loosened, kneeling before the church and praying fervently; but when they had gone around her, they saw to their horror that she had but half a body and half a face, and that her hair was a tangled cobweb, full of small blue and black flies. And they fled.«
The ronin appeared to wonder at some of the circumstances. »Twenty years ago,« he muttered in thought. »And this specter can be seen in the daytime! That is most strange, for as is well known, the Shi-ryo or ghosts of the dead haunt only at night. Between two and three in the morning is their hour. But this Goblin Spider is no ordinary specter. And is it still so fierce?
The villager seemed somewhat embarrassed. »We make sacrifices to it, so as to propitiate it. Perhaps that is why it is milder now. For three years already it has not slain anyone, but the smaller misfortunes which continually are befalling our village are certainly his work. Here we may still talk about it; but when we come to yonder group of bushes and trees, it will be best to keep silent about the Goblin Spider. Its rage would pursue us if we were to malign it on its own premises. Of course, it would be something else if . . .« And he broke off eloquently.
The knight errant, however, understod. »If I offered to undertake fighting the specter and overcame it, you wish to say? Well, I shall try to acquire this merit. To night I shall stay in the haunted temple. It is still about two hours before sundown. Therefore we shall come to the deserted monastery in more than plenty of time.«
Thereupon, however, the old muraosa took pity on the good ronin, and began to persuade him to abandon his rash project. »The responsibility for your death would weigh heavily upon me,« he objected, »for you still have an important task before you: to appease your hatred. If you do not care to give up this insane idea for your own sake, do so for mine.«
But the ronin was a man of his word and not of words. He
