Tomozo had promised Yusai never to speak to any other person--not
even to O-Mine--of the strange events that were taking place. But
Tomozo was not long suffered by the haunters to rest in peace.
Night after night O-Yone entered into his dwelling, and roused
him from his sleep, and asked him to remove the o-fuda placed
over one very small window at the back of his master's house. And
Tomozo, out of fear, as often promised her to take away the o-
fuda before the next sundown; but never by day could he make up
his mind to remove it,--believing that evil was intended to
Shinzaburo. At last, in a night of storm, O-Yone startled him
from slumber with a cry of reproach, and stooped above his
pillow, and said to him: "Have a care how you trifle with us! If,
by to-morrow night, you do not take away that text, you shall
learn how I can hate!" And she made her face so frightful as she
spoke that Tomozo nearly died of terror.

O-Mine, the wife of Tomozo, had never till then known of these
visits: even to her husband they had seemed like bad dreams. But
on this particular night it chanced that, waking suddenly, she
heard the voice of a woman talking to Tomozo. Almost in the same
moment the talk-ing ceased; and when O-Mine looked about her, she
saw, by the light of the night-lamp, only her husband,--
shuddering and white with fear. The stranger was gone; the doors
were fast: it seemed impossible that anybody could have entered.
Nevertheless the jealousy of the wife had been aroused; and she
began to chide and to question Tomozo in such a manner that he
thought himself obliged to betray the secret, and to explain the
terrible dilemma in which he had been placed.