bound to be a scandal so soon as the thing became known. Inevitably gossips would spread the report that, young though she was, the child by this time knew well enough why she had been invited to live with Prince Genji in his palace. Let them draw their own conclusions. That did not matter. There was a much worse possibility. What if Hyōbukyō found out where she was? His conduct in abducting another man’s child would appear in the highest degree outrageous and discreditable. He was sorely puzzled, but he knew that if he let this opportunity slip he would afterwards bitterly repent it, and long before daybreak he started on his way. Aoi was cold and sullen as ever. ‘I have just remembered something very important which I must see about at home,’ he said; ‘I shall not be away long,’ and he slipped out so quietly that the servants of the house did not know that he was gone. His cloak was brought to him from his own apartments and he drove off attended only by Koremitsu who followed on horseback. After much knocking they succeeded in getting the gate opened, but by a servant who was not in the secret. Koremitsu ordered the man to pull in Genji’s carriage as quietly as he could and himself went straight to the front door, which he rattled, coughing as he did so that Shōnagon might know who was there. ‘My lord is waiting,’ he said when she came to the door. ‘But the young lady is fast asleep,’ said Shōnagon; ‘his Highness has no business to be up and about at this time of night.’ She said this thinking that he was returning from some nocturnal escapade and had only called there in passing. ‘I hear,’ said Genji now coming forward, ‘that the child is to be moved to her father’s and I have something of importance which I must say to her before she goes.’ ‘Whatever business you have to transact with her, I am sure she will give the matter her closest attention,’ scoffed Shōnagon.
