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Just then Tokiko was struck by some uncanny intuition. She stopped in her tracks. Straining her ears, she heard a faint rustling sound like that made by a snake crawling through the grass.

She and the old man looked toward the sound, and almost simultaneously they both became transfixed with fear.

In the dim light a black thing was wriggling sluggishly in the thick growth of weeds. Suddenly the thing raised its head and crawled forward, scraping the ground with projections like excrescences at the four corners of its body. It advanced stealthily inch by inch.

After a time the upraised head suddenly disappeared into the ground, dragging its whole body after it. A few seconds later they heard the faint sound of a splash far beneath the ground in what seemed like the bowels of the earth.

Tokiko and the general finally mustered enough courage to step forward . . . and there, hidden in the grass, they found the old well, its black mouth gaping.

Strangely enough, in those timeless moments it had been the image of a caterpillar which had flashed again into Tokiko's mind—a bloated creature slowly creeping along the dead branch of a gaunt tree on a dark night . . . inching its way to the end of the branch and then suddenly dropping off . . . falling down... down into the boundless darkness beneath.

CLIFF

T HE SEASON IS SPRING. ATOP A cliff, about a mile from K——Spa, two persons are sitting on a rock. Far below them in the valley can faintly be heard the babbling water of a river. The man is in his mid-twenties, the girl slightly older. Both are wearing the padded outer kimono of a hot-spring hotel.

GIRL: Isn't it odd that in all this time we've never discussed those incidents that keep preying on our minds so. Sometimes I think I'll suffocate if I don't discuss them. Since we have so much free time today, let's talk about those things of the past a little. You won't mind, will you, darling?

MAN: Of course not, my dear. You go ahead, and I'll add my comments from time to time.

GIRL: Well, let's see. . . . To begin at the beginning, there was that night when I was lying in bed, side by side with Saito. He was weeping as usual, with his face pressed against mine, and his tears kept trickling into my mouth—

MAN: Don't be so explicit! I don't want to hear the details of your intimacies with your first husband.

GIRL: But this is an important part of the story, because that was when I first had a clear insight into his plans. But all right—for your sake I'll omit the details. . . . So, it was just as I tasted the salt of his tears that I suddenly told myself something was queer. The way he was crying that night was far more intense than usual, as if he had some hidden reason. Startled, I drew back and looked into his tear-stained eyes.

MAN: That must have made your blood run cold—to have your married happiness suddenly turn into fear. I remember your telling me that he seemed to have pity in his eyes as he returned your look.

GIRL: Yes, his eyes spoke eloquently of the pity he felt for me. I believe a man's innermost secrets can be read in his eyes. And on this occasion certainly, Saito's eyes were so eloquent that I perceived his thoughts instantly.

MAN: He was planning to kill you, wasn't he?

GIRL: Yes. But, of course, the whole thing was only a sort of game for him. In many ways he was a sadist, as you know, and I was just the opposite. I'm sure that's why he wanted to play the game. There's no denying that we loved each other, but we both incessantly craved for more excitement.

MAN: I know, I know! You needn't say any more.

GIRL: That night was the first time I felt I could plainly read his mind. Vague suspicions had disturbed me for some time, but now real fear gripped my heart. I shuddered to think he would go to such lengths. But I was thrilled in spite of my fears.

MAN: That look of pity you saw in his eyes—that was part of the game too, wasn't it? He wanted you to be frightened, and this