Japanese Ghost Stories

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Japanese Ghost Stories Page 9

by Lafcadio Hearn


  ‘If the woman be a ghost,’ said Yusai to the frightened servant, ‘– if the woman be a ghost, your master must die very soon – unless something extraordinary can be done to save him. And if the woman be a ghost, the signs of death will appear upon his face. For the spirit of the living is yōki, and pure – the spirit of the dead is inki, and unclean: the one is Positive, the other Negative. He whose bride is a ghost cannot live. Even though in his blood there existed the force of a life of one hundred years, that force must quickly perish … Still, I shall do all that I can to save Hagiwara Sama. And in the meantime, Tomozō, say nothing to any other person – not even to your wife – about this matter. At sunrise I shall call upon your master.’

  VI

  When questioned next morning by Yusai, Shinzaburō at first attempted to deny that any women had been visiting the house; but finding this artless policy of no avail, and perceiving that the old man’s purpose was altogether unselfish, he was finally persuaded to acknowledge what had really occurred, and to give his reasons for wishing to keep the matter a secret. As for the lady Iijima, he intended, he said, to make her his wife as soon as possible.

  ‘Oh, madness!’ cried Yusai – losing all patience in the intensity of his alarm. ‘Know, sir, that the people who have been coming here, night after night, are dead! Some frightful delusion is upon you! … Why, the simple fact that you long supposed O-Tsuyu to be dead, and repeated the Nembutsu for her, and made offerings before her tablet, is itself the proof! … The lips of the dead have touched you! – the hands of the dead have caressed you! … Even at this moment I see in your face the signs of death – and you will not believe! … Listen to me now, sir – I beg of you – if you wish to save yourself: otherwise you have less than twenty days to live. They told you – those people – that they were residing in the district of Shitaya, in Yanaka-no-Sasaki. Did you ever visit them at that place? No! – of course you did not! Then go to-day – as soon as you can – to Yanaka-no-Sasaki, and try to find their home! …’

  And having uttered this counsel with the most vehement earnestness, Hakuōdō Yusai abruptly took his departure.

  Shinzaburō, startled though not convinced, resolved after a moment’s reflection to follow the advice of the ninsomi, and to go to Shitaya. It was yet early in the morning when he reached the quarter of Yanaka-no-Sasaki, and began his search for the dwelling of O-Tsuyu. He went through every street and side-street, read all the names inscribed at the various entrances, and made inquiries whenever an opportunity presented itself. But he could not find anything resembling the little house mentioned by O-Yoné; and none of the people whom he questioned knew of any house in the quarter inhabited by two single women. Feeling at last certain that further research would be useless, he turned homeward by the shortest way, which happened to lead through the grounds of the temple Shin-Banzui-In.

  Suddenly his attention was attracted by two new tombs, placed side by side, at the rear of the temple. One was a common tomb, such as might have been erected for a person of humble rank: the other was a large and handsome monument; and hanging before it was a beautiful peony-lantern, which had probably been left there at the time of the Festival of the Dead. Shinzaburō remembered that the peony-lantern carried by O-Yoné was exactly similar; and the coincidence impressed him as strange. He looked again at the tombs; but the tombs explained nothing. Neither bore any personal name – only the Buddhist kaimyō or posthumous appellation. Then he determined to seek information at the temple. An acolyte stated, in reply to his questions, that the large tomb had been recently erected for the daughter of Iijima Heizayémon, the hatamoto of Ushigomé; and that the small tomb next to it was that of her servant O-Yoné, who had died of grief soon after the young lady’s funeral.

  Immediately to Shinzaburō’s memory there recurred, with another and sinister meaning, the words of O-Yoné: ‘We went away, and found a very small house in Yanaka-no-Sasaki. There we are now just barely able to live – by doing a little private work …’ Here was indeed the very small house – and in Yanaka-no-Sasaki. But the little private work …?

  Terror-stricken, the samurai hastened with all speed to the house of Yusai, and begged for his counsel and assistance. But Yusai declared himself unable to be of any aid in such a case. All that he could do was to send Shinzaburō to the high-priest Ryōseki, of Shin-Banzui-In, with a letter praying for immediate religious help.

  VII

  The high-priest Ryōseki was a learned and a holy man. By spiritual vision he was able to know the secret of any sorrow, and the nature of the karma that had caused it. He heard unmoved the story of Shinzaburō, and said to him:

  ‘A very great danger now threatens you, because of an error committed in one of your former states of existence. The karma that binds you to the dead is very strong; but if I tried to explain its character, you would not be able to understand. I shall therefore tell you only this – that the dead person has no desire to injure you out of hate, feels no enmity towards you: she is influenced, on the contrary, by the most passionate affection for you. Probably the girl has been in love with you from a time long preceding your present life – from a time of not less than three or four past existences; and it would seem that, although necessarily changing her form and condition at each succeeding birth, she has not been able to cease from following after you. Therefore it will not be an easy thing to escape from her influence … But now I am going to lend you this powerful mamori.fn10 It is a pure gold image of that Buddha called the Sea-Sounding Tathâgata – Kai-On-Nyōrai – because his preaching of the Law sounds through the world like the sound of the sea. And this little image is especially a shiryō-yokéfn11 – which protects the living from the dead. This you must wear, in its covering, next to your body – under the girdle … Besides, I shall presently perform in the temple, a ségaki-servicefn12 for the repose of the troubled spirit … And here is a holy sutra, called Ubō-Darani-Kyō, or “Treasure-Raining Sutra”:fn13 you must be careful to recite it every night in your house without fail … Furthermore I shall give you this package of o-fuda;fn14 you must paste one of them over every opening of your house – no matter how small. If you do this, the power of the holy texts will prevent the dead from entering. But – whatever may happen – do not fail to recite the sutra.’

  Shinzaburō humbly thanked the high-priest and then, taking with him the image, the sutra, and the bundle of sacred texts, he made all haste to reach his home before the hour of sunset.

  VIII

  With Yusai’s advice and help, Shinzaburō was able before dark to fix the holy texts over all the apertures of his dwelling. Then the ninsomi returned to his own house – leaving the youth alone.

  Night came, warm and clear. Shinzaburō made fast the doors, bound the precious amulet about his waist, entered his mosquito-net, and by the glow of a night-lantern began to recite the Ubō-Darani-Kyō. For a long time he chanted the words, comprehending little of their meaning; then he tried to obtain some rest. But his mind was still too much disturbed by the strange events of the day. Midnight passed; and no sleep came to him. At last he heard the boom of the great temple-bell of Dentsu-In announcing the eighth hour.fn15

  It ceased; and Shinzaburō suddenly heard the sound of geta approaching from the old direction – but this time more slowly: karan-koron, karan-koron! At once a cold sweat broke over his forehead. Opening the sutra hastily, with trembling hand, he began again to recite it aloud. The steps came nearer and nearer – reached the live hedge – stopped! Then, strange to say, Shinzaburō felt unable to remain under his mosquito-net: something stronger even than his fear impelled him to look; and, instead of continuing to recite the Ubō-Darani-Kyō, he foolishly approached the shutters, and through a chink peered out into the night. Before the house be saw O-Tsuyu standing, and O-Yoné with the peony-lantern; and both of them were gazing at the Buddhist texts pasted above the entrance. Never before – not even in what time she lived – had O-Tsuyu appeared so beautiful; and Shinzaburō felt his heart drawn
towards her with a power almost resistless. But the terror of death and the terror of the unknown restrained; and there went on within him such a struggle between his love and his fear that he became as one suffering in the body the pains of the Shō-netsu hell.fn16 Presently he heard the voice of the maid-servant, saying: ‘My dear mistress, there is no way to enter. The heart of Hagiwara Sama must have changed. For the promise that he made last night has been broken; and the doors have been made fast to keep us out … We cannot go in to-night … It will be wiser for you to make up your mind not to think any more about him, because his feeling towards you has certainly changed. It is evident that he does not want to see you. So it will be better not to give yourself any more trouble for the sake of a man whose heart is so unkind.’

  But the girl answered, weeping:

  ‘Oh, to think that this could happen after the pledges which we made to each other! … Often I was told that the heart of a man changes as quickly as the sky of autumn; yet surely the heart of Hagiwara Sama cannot be so cruel that he should really intend to exclude me in this way! … Dear Yoné, please find some means of taking me to him … Unless you do, I will never, never go home again.’

  Thus she continued to plead, veiling her face with her long sleeves – and very beautiful she looked, and very touching; but the fear of death was strong upon her lover.

  O-Yoné at last made answer,

  ‘My dear young lady, why will you trouble your mind about a man who seems to be so cruel? … Well, let us see if there be no way to enter at the back of the house: come with me!’

  And taking O-Tsuyu by the hand, she led her away toward the rear of the dwelling; and there the two disappeared as suddenly as the light disappears when the flame of a lamp is blown out.

  IX

  Night after night the shadows came at the Hour of the Ox; and nightly Shinzaburō heard the weeping of O-Tsuyu. Yet he believed himself saved – little imagining that his doom had already been decided by the character of his dependants.

  Tomozō had promised Yusai never to speak to any other person – not even to O-Miné – of the strange events that were taking place. But Tomozō was not long suffered by the haunters to rest in peace. Night after night O-Yoné entered into his dwelling, and roused him from his sleep, and asked him to remove the o-fuda placed over one very small window at the back of his master’s house. And Tomozō, out of fear, as often promised her to take away the o-fuda before the next sundown; but never by day could he make up his mind to remove it – believing that evil was intended to Shinzaburō. At last, in a night of storm, O-Yoné startled him from slumber with a cry of reproach, and stooped above his pillow, and said to him: ‘Have a care how you trifle with us! If, by to-morrow night, you do not take away that text, you shall learn how I can hate!’ And she made her face so frightful as she spoke that Tomozō nearly died of terror.

  O-Miné, the wife of Tomozō, had never till then known of these visits: even to her husband they had seemed like bad dreams. But on this particular night it chanced that, waking suddenly, she heard the voice of a woman talking to Tomozō. Almost in the same moment the talking ceased; and when O-Miné looked about her, she saw, by the light of the night-lamp, only her husband, shuddering and white with fear. The stranger was gone; the doors were fast: it seemed impossible that anybody could have entered. Nevertheless the jealousy of the wife had been aroused; and she began to chide and to question Tomozō in such a manner that he thought himself obliged to betray the secret, and to explain the terrible dilemma in which he had been placed.

  Then the passion of O-Miné yielded to wonder and alarm; but she was a subtle woman, and she devised immediately a plan to save her husband by the sacrifice of her master. And she gave Tomozō a cunning counsel – telling him to make conditions with the dead.

  They came again on the following night at the Hour of the Ox; and O-Miné hid herself on hearing the sound of their coming – karan-koron, karan-koron! But Tomozō went out to meet them in the dark, and even found courage to say to them what his wife had told him to say:

  ‘It is true that I deserve your blame; but I had no wish to cause you anger. The reason that the o-fuda has not been taken away is that my wife and I are able to live only by the help of Hagiwara Sama, and that we cannot expose him to any danger without bringing misfortune upon ourselves. But if we could obtain the sum of a hundred ryō9 in gold, we should be able to please you, because we should then need no help from anybody. Therefore if you will give us a hundred ryō, I can take the o-fuda away without being afraid of losing our only means of support.’

  When he had uttered these words, O-Yoné and O-Tsuyu looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then O-Yoné said:

  ‘Mistress, I told you that it was not right to trouble this man – as we have no just cause of ill will against him. But it is certainly useless to fret yourself about Hagiwara Sama, because his heart has changed towards you. Now once again, my dear young lady, let me beg you not to think any more about him!’

  But O-Tsuyu, weeping, made answer:

  ‘Dear Yoné, whatever may happen, I cannot possibly keep myself from thinking about him! … You know that you can get a hundred ryō to have the o-fuda taken off … Only once more, I pray, dear Yoné! – only once more bring me face to face with Hagiwara Sama – I beseech you!’ And hiding her face with her sleeve, she thus continued to plead.

  ‘Oh! why will you ask me to do these things?’ responded O-Yoné. ‘You know very well that I have no money. But since you will persist in this whim of yours, in spite of all that I can say, I suppose that I must try to find the money somehow, and to bring it here to-morrow night …’ Then, turning to the faithless Tomozō, she said: ‘Tomozō, I must tell you that Hagiwara Sama now wears upon his body a mamori called by the name of Kai-On-Nyōrai, and that so long as he wears it we cannot approach him. So you will have to get that mamori away from him, by some means or other, as well as to remove the o-fuda.’

  Tomozō feebly made answer:

  ‘That also I can do, if you will promise to bring me the hundred ryō.’

  ‘Well, mistress,’ said O-Yoné, ‘you will wait – will you not – until to-morrow night?’

  ‘Oh, dear Yoné!’ sobbed the other – ‘have we to go back to-night again without seeing Hagiwara Sama? Ah! it is cruel!’

  And the shadow of the mistress, weeping, was led away by the shadow of the maid.

  X

  Another day went, and another night came, and the dead came with it. But this time no lamentation was heard without the house of Hagiwara; for the faithless servant found his reward at the Hour of the Ox, and removed the o-fuda. Moreover he had been able, while his master was at the bath, to steal from its case the golden mamori, and to substitute for it an image of copper; and he had buried the Kai-On-Nyōrai in a desolate field. So the visitants found nothing to oppose their entering. Veiling their faces with their sleeves they rose and passed, like a streaming of vapor, into the little window from over which the holy text had been torn away. But what happened thereafter within the house Tomozō never knew.

  The sun was high before he ventured again to approach his master’s dwelling, and to knock upon the sliding-doors. For the first time in years he obtained no response; and the silence made him afraid. Repeatedly he called, and received no answer. Then, aided by O-Miné, he succeeded in effecting an entrance and making his way alone to the sleeping-room, where he called again in vain. He rolled back the rumbling shutters to admit the light; but still within the house there was no stir. At last he dared to lift a corner of the mosquito-net. But no sooner had he looked beneath than he fled from the house, with a cry of horror.

  Shinzaburō was dead – hideously dead; and his face was the face of a man who had died in the uttermost agony of fear; and lying beside him in the bed were the bones of a woman! And the bones of the arms, and the bones of the hands, clung fast about his neck.

  XI

  Hakuōdō Yusai, the fortune-teller, went to view the corpse at the pra
yer of the faithless Tomozō. The old man was terrified and astonished at the spectacle, but looked about him with a keen eye. He soon perceived that the o-fuda had been taken from the little window at the back of the house; and on searching the body of Shinzaburō, he discovered that the golden mamori had been taken from its wrapping, and a copper image of Fudō10 put in place of it. He suspected Tomozō of the theft; but the whole occurrence was so very extraordinary that he thought it prudent to consult with the priest Ryōseki before taking further action. Therefore, after having made a careful examination of the premises, he betook himself to the temple Shin-Banzui-In, as quickly as his aged limbs could bear him.

  Ryōseki, without waiting to hear the purpose of the old man’s visit, at once invited him into a private apartment.

  ‘You know that you are always welcome here,’ said Ryōseki. ‘Please seat yourself at ease … Well, I am sorry to tell you that Hagiwara Sama is dead.’

  Yusai wonderingly exclaimed:

  ‘Yes, he is dead; but how did you learn of it?’

  The priest responded:

  ‘Hagiwara Sama was suffering from the results of an evil karma; and his attendant was a bad man. What happened to Hagiwara Sama was unavoidable; his destiny had been determined from a time long before his last birth. It will be better for you not to let your mind be troubled by this event.’

  Yusai said:

  ‘I have heard that a priest of pure life may gain power to see into the future for a hundred years; but truly this is the first time in my existence that I have had proof of such power … Still, there is another matter about which I am very anxious …’

 

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