observed in the crowd that surrounded the place of execution. And then this face, covered with mud and looking like a wild dog, unable to endure the sight of the martyrdom of his brethren, immediately withdrew and disappeared from sight.
From these men we heard astonishing news. In the district known as Odomari, the villagers had succeeded in escaping the vigilance of the officials, and they were still Christians to a man. And not only Odomari. The neighbouring district and villages of Miyahara, Dozaki and Egami, although to outward appearances they were Buddhist, were in fact Christian—a fact which was barely kept hidden. For a long, long time they had been awaiting the day when we priests would once again come across the distant sea to help them and give them a blessing.
‘Father, we have not been to Mass. We have not confessed our sins. We have only said our prayers.’ It was the man with the bloodstained feet who spoke.
‘Come quickly to our village. Father, we teach our little children their prayers. They are waiting for the day you will come.’ The fellow with the yellow teeth, opening a mouth that yawned like an enormous cave, nodded approval. The fish oil burned and crackled. Garrpe and I could not refuse such a plea. We had been too cowardly until now. It was embarrassing to think of our weakness in comparison with the courage of these Japanese peasants who had slept in the mountains and lacerated their feet in order to come to us.
The sky was white. The air of the milky morning blew into our hut. In spite of all our urging they refused to get into the straw and rest; instead they slept squatting down with their arms around their knees. And then at last the rays of the morning sun pierced the cracks between the boards of our hut.
Two days later we discussed with the Christians of Tomogi the question of our going to Goto. Finally it was decided that Garrpe should remain while I would try to contact the Christians of Goto for a period of five days. They were not too enthusiastic about the plan. Some even ventured the suggestion that the whole thing was a dangerous plot to ensnare us.
The appointed day came. It was night; and they secretly came to meet me at the beach. I was wearing the clothes of a Japanese peasant, and Mokichi with one other man came to see me off in the ship they had prepared at the shore. It was a moonless night; the sea was jet black; and the only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic movement of the oars. But the man who plied them spoke not a word. As we sailed into the open sea the waves swelled and the ship rocked.
Suddenly I was seized with a terrible fear, doubt, suspicion. Was not this fellow here to sell me? The people of Tomogi had warned me; and they were right. Why had the fellow with the bloodstained feet not come?—and the other with no teeth? I looked at the Japanese face in front of me. It was impassive and expressionless like a Buddha; and my feelings became all the more apprehensive. Yet go I must. I had said I would.
The black sea stretched out everywhere in the night; while the sky held not a single star. Then, after travelling for two hours through the darkness I sensed the black shape of an island moving slowly beside us. This, my companion told me, was Kabashima, an island close to Goto.
Reaching the shore, I felt dizzy with seasickness, exhaustion and tension. Three fishermen were waiting for us, and as I looked up at them there in the center was the face of Kichijirō with the same old cringing, servile smile. In the village there was no light, but somewhere a dog was howling frantically.
The toothless fellow had not exaggerated in his description of how eagerly the peasants and fishermen of Goto were waiting for a priest. Even now I am completely overwhelmed with work. I don’t even have time for sleep. They come to my house one after another, completely ignoring the ban on Christianity. I baptize the children and hear the confessions of the adults.
From these men we heard astonishing news. In the district known as Odomari, the villagers had succeeded in escaping the vigilance of the officials, and they were still Christians to a man. And not only Odomari. The neighbouring district and villages of Miyahara, Dozaki and Egami, although to outward appearances they were Buddhist, were in fact Christian—a fact which was barely kept hidden. For a long, long time they had been awaiting the day when we priests would once again come across the distant sea to help them and give them a blessing.
‘Father, we have not been to Mass. We have not confessed our sins. We have only said our prayers.’ It was the man with the bloodstained feet who spoke.
‘Come quickly to our village. Father, we teach our little children their prayers. They are waiting for the day you will come.’ The fellow with the yellow teeth, opening a mouth that yawned like an enormous cave, nodded approval. The fish oil burned and crackled. Garrpe and I could not refuse such a plea. We had been too cowardly until now. It was embarrassing to think of our weakness in comparison with the courage of these Japanese peasants who had slept in the mountains and lacerated their feet in order to come to us.
The sky was white. The air of the milky morning blew into our hut. In spite of all our urging they refused to get into the straw and rest; instead they slept squatting down with their arms around their knees. And then at last the rays of the morning sun pierced the cracks between the boards of our hut.
Two days later we discussed with the Christians of Tomogi the question of our going to Goto. Finally it was decided that Garrpe should remain while I would try to contact the Christians of Goto for a period of five days. They were not too enthusiastic about the plan. Some even ventured the suggestion that the whole thing was a dangerous plot to ensnare us.
The appointed day came. It was night; and they secretly came to meet me at the beach. I was wearing the clothes of a Japanese peasant, and Mokichi with one other man came to see me off in the ship they had prepared at the shore. It was a moonless night; the sea was jet black; and the only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic movement of the oars. But the man who plied them spoke not a word. As we sailed into the open sea the waves swelled and the ship rocked.
Suddenly I was seized with a terrible fear, doubt, suspicion. Was not this fellow here to sell me? The people of Tomogi had warned me; and they were right. Why had the fellow with the bloodstained feet not come?—and the other with no teeth? I looked at the Japanese face in front of me. It was impassive and expressionless like a Buddha; and my feelings became all the more apprehensive. Yet go I must. I had said I would.
The black sea stretched out everywhere in the night; while the sky held not a single star. Then, after travelling for two hours through the darkness I sensed the black shape of an island moving slowly beside us. This, my companion told me, was Kabashima, an island close to Goto.
Reaching the shore, I felt dizzy with seasickness, exhaustion and tension. Three fishermen were waiting for us, and as I looked up at them there in the center was the face of Kichijirō with the same old cringing, servile smile. In the village there was no light, but somewhere a dog was howling frantically.
The toothless fellow had not exaggerated in his description of how eagerly the peasants and fishermen of Goto were waiting for a priest. Even now I am completely overwhelmed with work. I don’t even have time for sleep. They come to my house one after another, completely ignoring the ban on Christianity. I baptize the children and hear the confessions of the adults.
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