THE DRAGON PAINTER
brought him? Ma-a-a! all this mummery and service and what has come of it?"
"I perceive with regret that you are not of the Shingon sect," remarked the priest.
"Me? I should say not!" snorted Mata. "I am a Protestant, a good Shinshu woman,—that's what I am, and I tell you so to your face! When I pray, I know what I am praying for. I trust to my own good deeds and the intercession of Amida Butsu. No muttering and mummery for me!"
"Ah!" said the priest, a most alluring note of interest now audible in his voice, "your master has so zealously importuned the gods, and, you say, with no result?"
"Ay, a result has come," answered the old dame, sullenly. "Within this week the gods—or the demons—have heard my master, for a wild thing from the hills is with us!"
"Wild thing? Do you mean a man?"
"A semblance of a man, though none such will you see in the streets of a respectable town."
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