That night, while a celebrated player was performing upon the biwa in the hope of entertaining the sick Princess, there once more appeared behind the peonies the same young man in the same silk robe.
The next night, too, while Yae and Yakumo were playing on the flute and koto, the young man appeared again.
The Princess Aya's father now resolved to get at the root of the matter, and for this purpose he bade Maki Hiogo dress in black and lie concealed in the peony bed on the following night.
When the next night came Maki Hiogo lay hidden among the peonies, while Yae and Yakumo made sweet music. Not long after the music had sounded the mysterious young samurai again appeared. Maki Hiogo rose from his hiding-place with his arms tightly bound round this strange visitor. A cloud seemed to emanate from his captive. It made him dizzy, and he fell to the ground still tightly holding the handsome samurai.
Just as a number of guards came hurrying to the spot Maki Hiogo regained consciousness. He looked down expecting to see his captive. But all that he held in his arms was a large peony!
By this time Princess Aya and her father joined the astonished group, and the Lord Naizen-no-jo at once grasped the situation. "I see now," said he, "that the spirit of the peony flower had a moment ago, and on former occasions, taken the form of a young and handsome samurai. My daughter, you must take this flower and treat it with all kindness."
The Princess Aya needed to be told no more. She returned to the house, placed the peony in a vase, and stood it by her bedside. Day by day she got better, while the flower flourished exceedingly.
When the Princess Aya was quite well the Lord of Ako arrived at the castle, bringing with him his second son, whom she was to marry. In due time the wedding took place, but at that hour the beautiful peony suddenly died.
[1] Hara-kiri, or seppuku, is the term applied to suicide among the samurai class. For detailed account see Tales of Old Japan, by A. B. Mitford (Lord Redesdale).