ward, footman, and page, were all buried
in profound slumber. Genji called to them loudly, and they awoke with
a start. "Come," said he, "bring a light. Valet, twang your
bow-string, and drive away the fiend. How can you sleep so soundly in
such a place? But has Koremitz come?"

"Sir, he came in the evening, but you had given no command, and so he
went away, saying he would return in the morning," answered one.

The one who gave this reply was an old knight, and he twanged his
bow-strings vigorously, "Hiyojin! hiyojin!" (Be careful of the fire!
be careful of the fire!) as he walked round the rooms.

The mind of Genji instinctively reverted at this moment to the comfort
of the palace. "At this hour of midnight," he thought, "the careful
knights are patrolling round its walls. How different it is here!"

He returned to the room he had left; it was still dark. He found Yugao
lying half dead and unconscious as before, and Ukon rendered helpless
by fright.

"What is the matter? What does it mean? What foolish fear is this?"
exclaimed Genji, greatly alarmed. "Perhaps in lonely places like this
the fox, for instance, might try to exercise his sorcery to alarm us,
but I am here, there is no cause for fear," and he pulled Ukon's
sleeve as he spoke, to arouse her.

"I was so alarmed," she replied; "but my lady must be more so; pray
attend to her."

"Well," said Genji, and bending over his beloved, shook her gently,
but she neither spoke nor moved. She had apparently fainted, and he
became seriously alarmed.

At this juncture the lights were brought. Genji threw a mantle over
his mistress, and then called to the man to bring the light to him.
The servant remained standing at a distance (according to etiquette),
and would not approach.

"Come near," exclaimed Genji, testily. "Do act according to
circumstances," and taking the lamp from him threw its light full on
the face of the lady, and gazed upon it anxiously, when at this very
moment he beheld the apparition of the same woman he had seen before
in his terrible dream, float before his eyes and vanish. "Ah!" he
cried, "this is like the phantoms in old tales. What is the matter
with the girl?" His own fears were all forgotten in his anxiety on her
account. He leaned over and called upon her, but in vain. She answered
not, and her glance was fixed. What was to be done? There was no one
whom he could consult. The exorcisms of a priest, he thought, might do
some good, but