Then, following the gracious troop which the goddess had joined, he crossed the threshold.
Flowing-spring, hidden under the bed, waited till the noise of the boots had gone away. Then he glided with caution from his refuge.
Half bent, listening with anxiety in fear of being surprised, he flew from the room and crossed the garden.
During this time Choo Little-lotus, having remained in the temple, had not remarked the departure of his friend. But, turning round and not any longer seeing him, he questioned the old magician.
"Your friend is not far off," he replied.
Then, showing him the wall, he said:
"Look! here he is!"
And, indeed, in the centre of the fresco, the image of Flowing-spring was painted; he was crouched in among the flowers, straining his ear. The image moved, and, suddenly, the student separated himself from the wall and advanced, looking sad and anxious.
Choo Little-lotus, terrified, was looking at him. The other told him his adventure. As he spoke a terrible clap of thunder was heard. The two friends instinctively shut their eyes; when they opened them, their glance fell on the fresco: the goddesses had taken their places there again, in the midst of the flowers; but the young girl with the low chignon was no longer there.
The magician smiled at Flowing-spring: