The International Spy Part 18

Then a silver bell sounded, and his imperial and sacred majesty, Mutsuhito CXXI., Mikado, walked slowly forward into the Hall, accompanied by his son and heir, the Crown Prince Yoshihito, and an elderly man, attired with great richness, who was, as my guide whispered to me, his imperial highness Prince Yorimo, second cousin to the Emperor, and the man who had consented to be my t.i.tular father.

The ceremony was brief but impressive. I could not but be struck by the contrast between the two Mikados--the one whom I had seen yesterday, an alert statesman, wearing Western clothes, and speaking French with hardly a trace of accent, and the one before me now, a solemn, pontifical figure, in his immemorial robes, moving, speaking with the etiquette of a bygone age.

Everything pa.s.sed in the j.a.panese language, of which I did not then know a single word.

Mr. Katahashi did his best to provide a running translation, whispering in my ear, and prompting me with the j.a.panese words which it was necessary for me to p.r.o.nounce.

As far as I could understand, Prince Yorimo asked permission of the Emperor to adopt a son, as he was childless and desired to have some one who would sacrifice to his own spirit and those of his father and grandfather after he was dead.

The Mikado graciously consenting, I was brought forward, and made to renounce my own family and ancestors, and promise to sacrifice exclusively to those of my new father.

Prince Yorimo next brought forward a robe embroidered with the imperial emblems, the most prominent of which was the Rising Sun. I was divested of the dress lent me by Katahashi, and my adoptive father flung the imperial garment over my shoulders.

The girding on of the samurai weapon followed, and my father addressed me a short exhortation, bidding me hold myself ready at all times to obey the will of the Divine Emperor, even to the point of committing _seppuku_ at his command.

_Seppuku_ is the correct name of the rite known in the West by the vulgar name of _hara-kiri_, or the "happy despatch." It is a form of voluntary execution permitted by the ancient laws of j.a.pan to men of n.o.ble rank, much as European n.o.bles were allowed to be beheaded instead of being hanged.

I was then permitted to kiss the hand of Prince Yorimo, who formally presented me to the Mikado, whose hand also I had to kiss, kneeling.

That was the whole of the ceremony, at the close of which Mr.

Katahashi bade me a temporary farewell, and my princely father carried me off to a banquet in his own mansion.

Tedious and uninteresting as I fear these details must seem to the reader, I have thought it right to record them as an ill.u.s.tration of the spirit of j.a.pan, of that country of which I am proud to be an adopted son.

The moment we had quitted the Hall of the Imperial Family, Prince Yorimo began to talk to me in French.

He proved to be a most fascinating companion. Old enough to remember the feudal age, which was still in full vigor in j.a.pan forty years ago, he had since mastered most of the knowledge of the West.

I soon found that the Prince was by no means disposed to treat the adoption as a mere form. It was evident that the old gentleman had taken a strong fancy to me. He gave me a most affectionate welcome on the threshold of his house, and immediately calling his servants around him, introduced me to them as their future master, and bade them obey me as himself.

I was more touched than I care to say by this kind treatment. My own parents have long been dead; I know nothing of any other relations, if I have any; I have long been a wanderer and an adventurer on the face of the earth, and now, at last, I felt as though I had found a home.

Something of this I tried to convey to his imperial highness.

"My son," he replied with deep tenderness, "I feel that to me you will be a son indeed. You shall learn the language of our beautiful country, you shall grow used to our national ways. Before long you will let me provide you with a daughter of the Chrysanthemum to be your wife, and my grandchildren shall be j.a.panese indeed."

A sound of bells was heard outside.

"My friends are coming to pay the customary congratulation," the aged prince explained. "As it is necessary that you should have a name suited to your new rank, I ask you to take that of my father, Matsukata."

A few words of direction were spoken to the steward of the chambers, who went out. Immediately afterward he returned, throwing open the doors widely, and announced:

"The Marquis Yamagata to congratulate his imperial highness Prince Matsukata!"

And the Prime Minister of j.a.pan came toward me.

CHAPTER XIV

THE SUBMARINE MINE

Having told the reader as much as was necessary to enable him to understand my subsequent proceedings, and the real forces at work in the underground struggle which produced the tragedy of the Dogger Bank, I will suppress the remainder of my adventures in Tokio.

When I left the capital of my new country I wore around my neck, under the light shirt of chain mail without which I have never traveled for the last twenty years, a golden locket containing the miniature portrait of the loveliest maiden in the East or in the West.

It was a pledge. When little, tender fingers had fastened it in its place, little moving lips had whispered in my ear, "Till peace is signed!"

I had decided to return to the capital of what was now the country of my enemies, by much the same route as I had left it.

To do so, it was necessary to run the blockade of Port Arthur, or rather to feign to do so, for the j.a.panese Minister of Marine had been asked by my friend Katahashi to give secret instructions to Admiral Togo on my behalf.

In order to ensure a welcome from the Russian commander, and to dispel any suspicions, I planned to take in a cargo of Welsh steam coal.

Through an agent at Yokohama I chartered a British collier lying at Chi-fu, with a cargo for disposal. Leaving the j.a.panese port on a steamer bound for Shanghai, I met the collier in mid-ocean, and transferred myself on board her.

As soon as I had taken command, I ordered the skipper to head for Port Arthur.

This was the first intimation to him that he was expected to run the blockade, and at first he refused.

"I'm not afraid--myself," the st.u.r.dy Briton declared, "but I've got a mixed crew on board, Germans and Norwegians and Lascars, and all sorts, and I can't rely on them if we get in a tight place."

I glanced around at the collection of foreign faces and drew the captain aside. He, at least, was an Englishman, and I therefore trusted him.

"There is no danger, really," I said. "Admiral Togo has had secret orders to let me through. This cargo is merely a pretext."

The rough sailor scratched his head.

"Well, maybe you're telling the truth," he grunted. "But, dang me, if I can get the hang of it. You might belong to any country almost by the cut of your jib; you say you've fixed things up with the blessed j.a.ps, and you're running a cargo of coal for the blessed Rooshians.

It's queer, mortal queer, that's all I can say. Howsomdever----"

I took out a flask of three-star brandy, and pa.s.sed it to the doubting mariner.

He put it first to his nose, then to his lips.

"Ah! Nothing wrong about that, Mister," he p.r.o.nounced, as he handed back the flask.

"It's a fifty-pound job for yourself, no matter what becomes of the cargo," I insinuated.

The worthy seaman's manner underwent a magic change.

"Port your helm!" he yelled out suddenly and sharply to the man at the wheel. "Keep her steady nor'-east by nor', and a point nor'. Full steam ahead! All lights out! And if one of you lubbers so much as winks an eyelid, by George, I'll heave him overboard!"

The crew, who had shown a good many signs of uneasiness since my coming over the side, seemed to think this last hint worth attending to. They slunk forward to their duties, leaving the captain and myself to pace the quarter-deck alone.

We steamed swiftly through the darkness till we began to see the search-lights of the j.a.panese fleet like small white feathers fluttering on the horizon.