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Kichijirō were a Christian, why did he go so far as to conceal the whole affair even from us priests? My guess was that this cowardly fellow was afraid lest on returning to Japan we might give him over to the officials, revealing the fact that he was a Christian. On the other hand, if he was not really a Christian how explain the terror with which the words ‘gratia’ and ‘Santa Maria’ rose to his lips. Anyhow, the fellow intrigues me. I feel sure that bit by bit I will come to learn his secret.
    Until this day there was no sign of land, no trace of an island. The grey sky stretched out endlessly and sometimes the rays of the sun struck the ship so feebly as to be heavy on the eyelids. Overcome with depression we just kept our eyes fixed on the cold sea where the teeth of the waves flashed like white buds. But God did not abandon us.
    Quite suddenly a sailor who had been lying like dead in the stern of the ship raised a loud cry. There from the horizon towards which his finger pointed, a bird came flying. And this tiny bird which flew across the ocean came to rest on the sail, rent and torn by the storm of the previous night. Next, countless twigs came floating along the surface of the water. This indeed was proof that the land for which we longed so ardently was not far away. But our joy quickly changed to alarm   …If this was really Japan we must make sure not to be seen even by the smallest vessel. The sailors on such a ship would doubtless hasten at once to tell the officials that a junk containing foreigners was drifting on the waves off the coast.
    Garrpe and I crouched amidst the luggage like a couple of dogs as we waited for darkness to come. The sailors put up a small sail in front of the ship and they made a brave attempt to keep clear of the pieces of land that looked like mainland.
    Midnight came. The ship moved forward noiselessly. Fortunately there was no moon; the sky was jet black; no one found us. The mainland rose up before us. We noticed that we were entering right into a harbor on both sides of which steep mountains arose. And now we could also see clumps of houses huddled together beyond the strand. Kichijirō was the first to wade ashore; next came myself; and last of all Garrpe got into the icy cold water. Was this Japan? or was it an island belonging to some other country? Frankly, none of us had any idea.
    We hid silently in a tiny hollow while Kichijirō went off to explore the situation. The sound of footsteps on the sand came near to where we crouched. As we clutched our wet clothes and held our breath, we saw passing just before us the figure of an old woman with a cloth on her head and a basket on her back. She did not notice our presence and went on her way. Her departing footsteps faded into the night, and once again the deadly silence descended on the shore. ‘He won’t come back! He won’t come back!’ exclaimed Garrpe tearfully, ‘Where has he gone, the weak-minded coward?’
    But I was thinking of a more terrible fate. He had not fled. Like Judas he had gone to betray us. Soon he would appear again, and with him would be the guards.
    ‘A band of soldiers went there with lanterns and torches and weapons’, said Garrpe, quoting the Scriptures.
    We reflected on the night at Gethsemane when Our Lord trusted himself without reserve to the hands of men. But the time dragged on so slowly that my spirit was almost crushed. It was fearful indeed. The perspiration flowed down my forehead and into my eyes. And then came the sound of footsteps. A group of people was approaching. The light of their torches burned dismally in the dark, and they came closer and closer.
    Someone thrust a torch forward and in its light there appeared the ugly face, both red and black, of a small old man, while around him five or six young men with frightened eyes looked down on us.
    ‘Padre, Padre!’ The old man made the sign of the cross as he uttered the words, and in his voice there was a gentle note of