rolling away to the West, blown by a light, steady wind. The view beyond the river looked as though painted in a picture. Near the water horses were quietly grazing; they looked strangely small and far away. It was very lovely.
'If only my beloved child were in safe hands I would give everything up and arrange to end my days here. But the moment I think of him I long to be back in the City and become very depressed.
'He will be coming with the other boys on the excursion to Sakura-dani, which is not far from here. If he were to come, I could not bear to hear that he had passed so close. . . . I do not want to go back; but I think if any one fetched me I should consent to go. But should I? I worry about this all the time and cannot bring myself to eat anything.
'They came and told me they had been for a walk behind the monastery and found some meadow-sweet growing near a pond. I asked them to bring me some, which they did, and put the flowers in a bowl along with some lemons on stripped stems. It really looked very pretty.
'When it was dark I went back to the chapel and spent the night in confession and prayer, weeping bitterly the whole while. Towards daybreak I dozed for a moment and dreamt that I saw one of the monks (the one who seems to act as a sort of steward here) fill a bucket of water and put it on the seat on my right. I woke up with a start and knew at once that the dream had been sent to me by Buddha. It was certainly not of a kind to bring much encouragement.[1] Presently some one said that it was now broad daylight, and breaking off my prayers I came down from the chapel. I found, however, that it
- ↑ It foreboded ill to Kane-iye, who was at that time Marshal of the bodyguard of the Right. Water typifies weakness and death.
