The night passed uneventfully. Akitada rose before dawn to take over from Tora. His two new employees seemed competent, appearing at regular intervals on their patrol. Hitomaro looked surprised to see Akitada, but said nothing. Genba, however, paused occasionally to exchange a few words. Akitada encouraged this. The "monk" seemed curious about various sports, especially the annual wrestling matches for the emperor. But when Akitada, on his part, asked questions about Genba's background or that of his companion, he became evasive. He made few references to their past, and these entailed mostly humorous anecdotes about street characters and reminiscences of memorable meals. When Akitada became insistent, Genba departed on another round to check out a suspicious noise.

The sun rose on another cloudless sky. The daylight brought relative safety; attacks were highly unlikely at this time. Akitada told his two watchers to get some food and rest.

"Food!" Genba's face split into a joyous smile, and he trotted off eagerly in the direction of the kitchen, passing on the way the small figure of Sadamu, barefoot and in his white silk under-robe.

"Good morning, sir," the boy cried to Akitada. "What a fine day! Tora and I are making stilts today. Will you join us?"

"Perhaps later," said Akitada, tousling the boy's sleep-rumpled hair. His mother would be upset, but that could not be helped. He had more important errands today than walking about on stilts or playing football. Sadamu, at any rate, did not seem too disappointed. He waved and disappeared again.

The soldierly Hitomaro had gone to the well to wash his face and hands. He now sauntered back, casting a look around as the first rays of the sun gilded the tops of trees. Suddenly he gave an exclamation.

Walking quickly to Akitada, he said, "Look, sir! Over there! See that tall pine in the grove of trees? There's someone in it."

Akitada peered. The distance was too great to be certain. "I don't see anyone," he said.

Hitomaro shaded his eyes. "No. He's gone. But I swear I saw a small man for just a moment."

"Well," said Akitada, "even if someone climbed the tree, he need not have any designs on us. Go get some rest. Tora and the others will be up shortly."

Relieved that the night had passed peacefully, Akitada went to bathe and change into formal attire before paying his calls on Prince Yoakira's friends.

Lord Abe's mansion was closest to the Sugawara residence. Akitada identified himself and was shown into a shady garden. An elderly man stood by a small fishpond, tossing bits of rice dumpling into the water. He had laid Akitada's card on the edge of the veranda nearby and glanced toward it when Akitada made his bow.

"Ah, hmm," he said, returning the bow. "Yes, er . . . Sado . . . Mura . . . what was it again?" He started towards the card on the veranda, when Akitada guessed at his problem.

"I am Sugawara, sir. Sugawara Akitada."

"Oh, of course. Sugawara. I had it on the tip of my tongue. Any relation of . . . no,probably not. And what was it that we were to discuss?"

"Prince Yoakira's grandson has asked me to look into his grandfather's disappearance. I hoped that you might give me your observations of what happened at the Ninna temple."

Abe's face broke into a smile. "The Ninna temple? Now there is a fine place! I remember it well. So many beautiful halls near the mountains! We enjoyed the most delicious plums there! The monks grow them themselves, you know. Ah, I must go there again some time. Since you want my views, I can recommend it highly. An absolutely wonderful place if you need a cure. I have trouble with my eyes." He leaned forward to peer at Akitada more closely and said, "Spots!"

An awful suspicion seized Akitada. "Do you recall Prince Yoakira?" he asked.

"Yoakira?" Abe smiled and clapped his hands. "So you come from Yoakira! How is the old fellow? I haven't seen him for ages." He paused, frowning. "What was it we were talking about?"

"I am afraid . . ."began Akitada, but Abe was peering into the fish-pond. "Come, my little ones," he crooned. "Here's something good for you."

Akitada said loudly, "It has been a pleasure, sir. Many thanks for your excellent comments."

Abe looked up, smiled and waved a hand, "Not at all! Delightful! Er . . . Yoshida."

Akitada bowed and left. Poor old man. Even if he had still been in his right mind when the tragedy happened, he had no memory of it now. But a blissful loss of painful memories was perhaps the greatest gift of all, Akitada thought, as his eyes fell on some late blooming hollyhocks near the garden gate. His hand went to his temple where Tamako's fingers and sleeve had brushed his skin as she fastened the blooms to his hat.

He attempted to see the retired General Soga next. But one of the general's servants informed him that his master had left the city for the cooler shores of Lake Biwa where he had a summer villa, and Akitada turned his steps to the house of Lord Yanagida.

There was nothing at all wrong with Lord Yanagida's recall of the last time he saw his friend. His problem was altogether different.

He received Akitada in a study which was primarily remarkable for the number of religious paintings on the walls and the presence of a small altar with a Buddha figure. Yanagida himself appeared to be an elderly version of this figure, having the same soft and fleshy physique, the same round features, clean shaven, heavy-lidded and smiling beatifically. He wore heavy silk robes vaguely resembling vestments and carried a rosary in one hand.

His lordship maintained a calm reserve until Akitada had been seated and given a cup of chilled fruit juice. But as soon as Akitada explained the boy's concerns about his grandfather's disappearance, Yanagida became alarmed.

"Disappearance?" he gasped, fluttering his hands, the rosary beads swinging wildly. "You mean to say that no one has told the child about the blessed miracle? You must explain the idea of transfiguration to him. It was the most profoundly moving experience of my life! To be a witness to such a reward for devotion! I count myself blessed just for being there myself, a living testimonial! But I suppose you know that, or you would not be here. Oh, it was the holiest moment." Yanagida closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

Akitada's heart fell, but he asked anyway, "It would be most kind of you, sir, if you could give me an account of the events preceding the, er, miracle, so I can report to young Lord Minamoto."

Yanagida nodded. "Certainly, certainly. Nothing could be easier or more joyful. The whole scene is imprinted on my mind! It was still dark when Yoakira entered the shrine— for it shall always be a holy shrine now— and began his devotions. We went to sit outside, our minds caught up in the myriad things of this fleeting world, until he recited the sutra. We all heard him clearly. He was superb, never faltering, never missing a single line! It was inspiring, absolutely inspiring!" Yanagida fell to reciting the lines himself, counting them off on the beads between his fingers.

At the first brief pause, Akitada asked quickly, "Did you yourself examine the hall immediately after the prince was . . . transfigured?"

Yanagida placed the palms of his hands together and bowed his head. "It was my privilege and my blessing," he said. "It was when I realized that my friend had transcended this prison of eternal rebirth that I made my vow. I am preparing to put away my worldly self and take the tonsure, serving as a simple monk in that holy place where my friend achieved salvation. You may tell the child that from me."