He saw, as he walked with her, that she wore a plain blue cotton robe with a white-patterned cotton sash about her small waist. It seemed impossible to improve on the picture she made and he told her so.

She turned her head slightly and thanked him with a blush and a smile. "Here we are," she said, pointing to a wooden platform under a trellis covered with flowering wisteria. The purple blooms hung in thick clusters suspended from a leafy roof.

Akitada looked around him. Everywhere plants seemed to be in flower or bud. The air was heavy with their mingled fragrances and the humming of bees. When they sat down on two mats which had been spread on the platform, he was enveloped by the sweet scent of the wisteria blossoms and felt that he had walked into another, more perfect world, one which was far more intensely alive with colors, scents and the sounds of birds and bees than any existence on this earth had any right to be.

"Something is terribly wrong with Father," said Tamako, breaking into his fancy.

"What?"

She took his exclamation literally. "I do not know. He won't tell me. About two weeks ago he came back late from the university. He went directly to his study and spent a whole night pacing. The next morning he looked pale and drawn and he hardly ate anything. He left for work without any kind of explanation, and has done the same every day since then. Whenever I try to question him, he either maintains that nothing is wrong, or he snaps at me to mind my own business. You know this is not like him in the least." She looked at Akitada beseechingly.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I have been hoping that he invited you to dinner to confide in you. If he does, perhaps you can tell me what has happened. The uncertainty is very upsetting."

She looked pale and tense, but Akitada shook his head doubtfully. "If he has refused to tell you, he will hardly speak to me, and even if he did, he may ask that I keep his confidence."

"Oh," she cried, jumping up in frustration, "men are impossible! Well, if he does not speak, you must find out somehow, and if he swears you to secrecy, you must find a way! If you are my friend, that is!"

Alarmed, Akitada rose also. He took her hands in his and looked down at her lovely, intense face. "You must be patient, little sister!" he said earnestly. "Of course I shall do my best to help your father."

Their eyes met, and he felt as if he were drowning in her gaze. Then she looked away, blushing rosily, and withdrew her hands. "Yes, of course. Forgive me. I know I can trust you. But now I must see about our dinner, and Father expects you." She made him a formal bow and walked away quickly.

Akitada stood and watched her graceful figure disappear around a bend in the path. He felt perplexed and troubled by the encounter. Slowly he walked towards the house.

The professor received him warmly in his study, a separate pavilion which was lined with books and looked out on a stand of bamboo, an arrangement of picturesque rocks and patterned gravel outside a small veranda. This room, where Akitada had worked on lessons with the professor, was as familiar to Akitada as any room in his own home. But the kindly man who had been a second father to him had changed shockingly. He looked prematurely old.

"My dear boy," Hirata began as soon as they had exchanged greetings and seated themselves, "forgive me for summoning you so abruptly when you must be very busy with official duties."

"I was very glad you invited me. This has always been a happy place for me and I have missed Tamako. She looks all grown-up and quite lovely."

"Ah, yes. I see she has already spoken to you." Hirata sighed, and Akitada thought again how tired he looked. The professor had always been tall and gaunt, with prominent facial bones made more severe by a long nose and goatee, but today there seemed more gray than black in his hair and beard, and deep lines ran from his nose to the corners of his thin lips. He said, "I am afraid I have been very unkind to the poor child, but I could not bring myself to burden her with the matter. Well, it seems it is beyond me to solve it, so I have presumed on our friendship to ask your advice."

"You honor me with your confidence, sir."

"Here is what happened. You may remember that one evening every month we gather for devotions in the Temple of Confucius? All the faculty wear formal dress on the occasion. Since we spend the day lecturing and teaching, we leave our formal gowns and headdresses on pegs in the anteroom of the hall in the morning and change into them just before the ceremony. Do you know the room I mean?"

Akitada nodded.

"I was in a hurry that evening, having been kept by a student, and simply tossed on my gown and hat and found my place in the hall. About halfway through the service I became aware of a rustling in my sleeve. I found a note tucked into the lining. Because it was too dark to read it there, I took it home with me."

Hirata got up and walked to one of the shelves. From a lacquer box he extracted a slip of paper and brought it to Akitada, his hand shaking a little.

Akitada unfolded the crumpled paper. The note was brief, on ordinary paper, and the handwriting was good but unremarkable. It read: "While men like you enjoy life, others do not have enough to fill their bellies. If you wish to keep your culpability a secret, pay your debts! I suggest an initial sum of 1000 cash."

Akitada looked up and said, "I gather one of your colleagues is being blackmailed."

"Thank you for that, my boy." Hirata smiled a little tremulously. "Yes. It is the only conclusion I could arrive at. I am afraid someone on the faculty has committed a serious . . . wrong, and another is extorting money in exchange for his silence. Apart from the shocking fact that two of my colleagues appear to be signally lacking in the very morals they are expected to inculcate into our students, it would be a disaster if the matter became public. The university is already in danger."

"You surprise me."

Hirata shifted uncomfortably. "Yes. We have been losing students to the private colleges, and our funds have been cut severely. A scandal could mean the closing of the university." He looked down at his clenched hands and sighed deeply. "I have spent every minute since the incident trying to think what to do. Now I have to pin my hopes on you. You are clever at solving puzzles. If you could identify the blackmailer and his victim, I might be able to deal with them in such a way that the university's reputation won't suffer."

"You may overestimate my poor abilities." Akitada spread the note out on the floor between them. "You did not recognize the handwriting?"

Hirata shook his head.

"No. I suppose not. It is not particularly distinguished. Yet the note is hardly an illiterate effort. 'Culpability' is a rather learned word. Could a student have written it?"

"I cannot say. Students never go into the anteroom. And it is true that the writing looks ordinary, but some of my colleagues are hardly great calligraphers. Besides, handwriting can be disguised."

"Yes. Hmm. One thousand cash is an impressive sum to the average person, and this is to be only the first payment. Whatever malfeasance is involved must be serious to be worth that price to the guilty man. What could be so damaging to one of your colleagues, and who could pay that much?"

The professor made a face. "I cannot imagine. It is certainly more than I can raise easily."

"What have you done so far?"