shores of the Sumida River, winding down like a road of glass. They
had emerged into the famous district of Asakusa, where the great temple
of Kwannon the Merciful attracts daily its thousands of worshippers.
Here the water course is bounded by fashionable tea-houses, many
stories high, and here the great arched bridges are always crowded.
Leaving this busy heart of things, they sauntered northward, finding
lonelier shores, and soon wide fields of green, until they reached a
bank whereon grew a single leaning willow. The body of this tree,
bending outward, sent its long, nerveless leaves in a perpetual green
rain to the surface of the stream, where sudden swarms of minnows, like
shivers in a glass, assailed the deceptive bait. The roots of the
tree--great yellowish, twisted ropes of roots--clutched air, earth, and
water in their convolutions. Among them the current, swifter here than
in mid-stream, uttered at times a guttural, uncanny sound as of
spectral laughter.

Ume-ko stood, one slender arm about the trunk, looking out, with
mournful eyes, upon the passing river show. On the farther bank grew a
continuous wall of cherry trees in yellowing leaf, and above them
glowed the first hint of the coming sunset. Rising against the sky a
temple roof, tilted like the keel of a sunken vessel, cut sharp lines
into the crimson light.

Tatsu flung himself full length upon the bank. He patted the soil with
its springing grasses, and felt his heart flow out in love to it. Then
he reached up, caught at the drifting gauze of Ume's sleeve, and made
as if to pull her down. Ume clasped the tree more tightly.

"Tatsu," she said, "I implore you not to think always of me. Look,
beloved, the thin white sails of the rice-boats pass, and, over yonder,
children in scarlet petticoats dance beneath the trees."

"I have eyes but for my wife," said wilful Tatsu.

Ume-ko drew the sleeve away. She would not meet his smile. "Alas,
shall I forever obscure beauty!"

"There is no beauty now but in you! You are the sacred mirror which
reflects for me all loveliness."

"Dear lord, those words are almost blasphemy," said Ume, in a
frightened whisper. "Look, now, beloved, the light of the sun sinks
down. Soon the great moon will come to us."

"What care I for a distant moon, oh, Dragon Maid," laughed Tatsu.

Ume's outstretched arm fell heavily to her side. "Alas!" she said
again. "From deepest happiness may come the deepest pain.