But one morning the dead body of a young servant, who had been sent from a neighboring residence to fetch water, was found floating in the well.  No cause for a suicide could be imagined; and Matsumura, remembering many unpleasant stories about the well, began to suspect some invisible malevolence.  He went to examine the well, with the intention of having a fence built around it; and while standing there alone he was startled by a sudden motion in the water, as of something alive.  The motion soon ceased; and then he perceived, clearly reflected in the still surface, the figure of a young woman, apparently about nineteen or twenty years of age.  She seemed to be occupied with her toilet:  he distinctly saw her touching her lips with b[’e]ni[67] At first her face was visible in profile only; but presently she turned towards him and smiled.  Immediately he felt a strange shock at his heart, and a dizziness came upon him like the dizziness of wine, and everything became dark, except that smiling face,—­white and beautiful as moonlight, and always seeming to grow more beautiful, and to be drawing him down—­down—­down into the darkness.  But with a desperate effort he recovered his will and closed his eyes.  When he opened them again, the face was gone, and the light had returned; and he found himself leaning down over the curb of the well.  A moment more of that dizziness,—­a moment more of that dazzling lure,—­and he would never again have looked upon the sun...

[Footnote 67:  A kind of rouge, now used only to color the lips.]

Returning to the house, he gave orders to his people not to approach the well under any circumstances, or allow any person to draw water from it.  And the next day he had a strong fence built round the well.

* * * * *

About a week after the fence had been built, the long drought was broken by a great rain-storm, accompanied by wind and lightning and thunder,—­thunder so tremendous that the whole city shook to the rolling of it, as if shaken by an earthquake.  For three days and three nights the downpour and the lightnings and the thunder continued; and the Kamogawa rose as it had never risen before, carrying away many bridges.  During the third night of the storm, at the Hour of the Ox, there was heard a knocking at the door of the priest’s dwelling, and the voice of a woman pleading for admittance.  But Matsumura, warned by his experience at the well, forbade his servants to answer the appeal.  He went himself to the entrance, and asked,—­

“Who calls?”

A feminine voice responded:—­

“Pardon! it is I,—­Yayoi![68]...  I have something to say to Matsumura Sama,—­something of great moment.  Please open!"...

[Footnote 68:  This name, though uncommon, is still in use.]

Matsumura half opened the door, very cautiously; and he saw the same beautiful face that had smiled upon him from the well.  But it was not smiling now:  it had a very sad look.