22
Genji was at his father-in-law's house in Sanjo~. His wife was as always slow to receive him. In his boredom and annoyance he took out a Japanese koto and pleasantly hummed “The Field in Hitachi.” * Then came Koremitsu's unsettling report. He must act. If he were to take her from her father's house, he would be called a lecher and a child thief. He must swear the women to secrecy and bring her to Nijo~ immediately.
“I will go early in the morning. Have my carriage left as it is, and order a guard, no more than a man or two.”
Koremitsu went to see that these instructions were carried out. Genji knew that he was taking risks. People would say that his appetites were altogether too varied. If the girl were a little older he would be credited with having made a conquest, and that would be that. Though Prince Hyo~bu would be very upset indeed, Genji knew that he must not let the child go. It was still dark when he set out. His wife had no more than usual to say to him.
“I have just remembered some business at Nijo~ that absolutely has to be taken care of. I should not be long.”
Her women did not even know that he had gone. He went to his own rooms and changed to informal court dress. Koremitsu alone was on horseback.
When they reached their destination one of his men pounded on the gate. Ignorant of what was afoot, the porter allowed Genji's carriage to be pulled inside. Koremitsu went to a corner door and coughed. Sho~nagon came out.
“My lord is here.”
“And my lady is asleep. You pick strange hours for your visits.” Sho~nagon suspected that he was on his way home from an amorous adven-ture.
Genji had joined Koremitsu.
“There is something I must say to her before she goes to her father's.”
Sho~nagon smiled. “And no doubt she will have many interesting things to say in reply.”
He pushed his way inside.
“please, sir. We were not expecting anyone. The old women are a dreadful sight.”
“I will go wake her. The morning mist is too beautiful for sleep.”
He went into her bedroom, where the women were too surprised to cry out. He took her in his arms and smoothed her hair. Her father had come for her, she thought, only half awake.
“Let's go. I have come from your father's.” She was terrified when she saw that it was not after all her father. “You are not being nice. I have told you that you must think of me as your father.” And he carried her out.
A chorus of protests now came from Sho~nagon and the others.
“I have explained things quite well enough. I have told you how difficult it is for me to visit her and how I want to have her in a more comfortable and accessible spot; and your way of making things easier is to send her off to her father. One of you may come along, if you wish.”
“Please, sir.” Sho~nagon was wringing her hands. “You could not have chosen a worse time. What are we to say when her father comes? If it is her fate to be your lady, then perhaps something can be done when the time comes. This is too sudden, and you put us in an extremely difficult position.”
“You can come later if you wish.”
His carriage had been brought up. The women were fluttering about helplessly and the child was sobbing. Seeing at last that there was nothing else to be done, Sho~nagon took up several of the robes they had been at work on the night before, changed to presentable clothes of her own, and got into the carriage.