It rolled into the hole under the fallen lantern; and the body became but the shadow of the branch of a tree on the yellow sand.
The villagers were so terrified and awe-stricken by all this that not a single one of them noticed another sudden change in their immediate vicinity. But nothing escaped the ronin’s eye. He saw that there where before a hole had gaped under the wrecked lantern now suddenly an orderly grave had appeared with a mossgrown monument. And in the boughs of the tree above the hako a bird sang sweetly and then vanished at once, as if it had changed to vapor.
***
Having shaved his head, the knight errant became a monk and undertook to reestablish this temple, where he had conquered his own hatred. The faithful from far and wide made pilgrimages to the temple, but especially those who either were persecuted by an Iki-ryó or were being consumed by their own secret hatred. It was said that nobody ever returned from this pilgrimage without consolation, and many were enlightened on the dark ways of life. For by the grace of the gods it was given them to understand that, like all things, intentions, and feelings, also hatred is but an illusion, a hideous illusion, however, murderous and selfdestroying.
