“It is a bad sign,” repeated the mother, gloomily; and she made as if to step upon the little creature, when Moonlight grasped at her arm and drew her back.
“Do not kill it! Do not kill it!” she cried, in sudden excitement. “Oh, do you not see—it is Ohano, poor Ohano! She has returned to us in this way. There is a message she wishes to bring us.”
Even as she spoke the cicada ceased its fluttering and lay very still. A silence fell upon the Saito family. They were oppressed with the sense of being in the presence of one dead.
Said the Lord Saito Gonji, in a very gentle voice:
“What can it be my wife wishes? I would gladly resign my happiness if I could but make easier the lot of Ohano.”
“She was always anxious about her next birth,” whispered his mother. “Perhaps she desires a Buddhist service especially for her spirit!”
Moonlight had tenderly lifted the little body and put it into a small box.
“Come,” she said, simply. “We must set out at once for the temple. The good priest will perform the Segati service, and we will bury Ohano’s little body in the grounds of the temple. There surely it will rest in peace!”
THE END