these boats the two
travellers embarked. About half-way across, the priest was taken with
a sudden necessity to go to the side of the boat; and the Ronin,
following him, tripped him up whilst no one was looking, and flung him
into the sea. When the boatmen and passengers heard the splash, and
saw the priest struggling in the water, they were afraid, and made
every effort to save him; but the wind was fair, and the boat running
swiftly under the bellying sails, so they were soon a few hundred
yards off from the drowning man, who sank before the boat could be
turned to rescue him.

When he saw this, the Ronin feigned the utmost grief and dismay, and
said to his fellow-passengers, "This priest, whom we have just lost,
was my cousin: he was going to Kiyoto, to visit the shrine of his
patron; and as I happened to have business there as well, we settled
to travel together. Now, alas! by this misfortune, my cousin is dead,
and I am left alone."

He spoke so feelingly, and wept so freely, that the passengers
believed his story, and pitied and tried to comfort him. Then the
Ronin said to the boatmen--

"We ought, by rights, to report this matter to the authorities; but as
I am pressed for time, and the business might bring trouble on
yourselves as well, perhaps we had better hush it up for the present;
and I will at once go on to Kiyoto and tell my cousin's patron,
besides writing home about it. What think you, gentlemen?" added he,
turning to the other travellers.

They, of course, were only too glad to avoid any hindrance to their
onward journey, and all with one voice agreed to what the Ronin had
proposed; and so the matter was settled. When, at length, they reached
the shore, they left the boat, and every man went his way; but the
Ronin, overjoyed in his heart, took the wandering priest's luggage,
and, putting it with his own, pursued his journey to Kiyoto.

On reaching the capital, the Ronin changed his name from Shume to
Tokubei, and, giving up his position as a Samurai, turned merchant,
and traded with the dead man's money. Fortune favouring his
speculations, he began to amass great wealth, and lived at his ease,
denying himself nothing; and in course of time he married a wife, who
bore him a child.

Thus the days and months wore on, till one fine summer's night, some
three years after the priest's death, Tokubei stepped out on to the
verandah of his house to enjoy the cool air and the beauty of the
moonlight. Fe