Though, after the official reception, John went often to Tokio, and found that the Japanese citizen was peaceful enough, he could never shake off his first impression of a nation essentially military, encouraged by its recent victories over Russia, ready for further wars should they come. Far inland such an impression might have been contradicted; but in Tokio, the centre of official life, it was continually reinforced. It was remarkable and terrible that the Japanese military mind was not even choked, as were the minds of Western nations, by official pomposity. It seemed faultless. Salaries were small, offices unpretentious. The nation was as an athlete stripped.
“Just as well these fellows are our allies,” said Aggett in the Wardroom.
Nick Ordith had much leave in Japan; indeed, from the day of the ship’s arrival to the day of her departure his messmates saw little of him, save when he came on board for a few hours to deposit one bag of papers and to carry off another. Sometimes Aggett accompanied him; but Aggett, not being supernumerary, and having ship’s duties, could not take all the leave he desired. Nick called at many important offices, and in all of them was amicably received. It was to be understood, of course, that he represented no one; but, nevertheless, the Japanese were aware of the existence of Ibble’s and of Ordith’s. In those days, Mr. Fane-Herbert being as yet far away, perhaps Nick allowed Ordith’s to eclipse Ibble’s, telling himself that, the understanding between the two firms being so cordial and complete, he could do so with an easy conscience. Further, he had prospects, sprung from his own inventive mind, which were but indirectly connected with either firm. He wanted experiments made, but these must be unofficial. He had ideas to sell, but, realizing the prior claims of his own nation’s firms, he could not part with them unreservedly. All his negotiations, which involved so many conflicting interests, were complicated and slow, but before the Pathshire put to sea he felt that he had made preliminary progress, some of which he would report to Mr. Fane-Herbert.
III
Sailing by way of Nagasaki, the squadron reached Wei-hai-wei on the first morning of June. The Fane-Herberts, who had travelled overland, were already established there, having taken a small house and equipped it with Chinese servants. Mr. Fane-Herbert had urged his wife not to settle down in a place so deserted. In the absence of the squadron, he told her, there would be little company but that of the somewhat distant regiment. But she had made up her mind, and was not to be dissuaded. The squadron would be at Wei-hai during a part of the summer at least, and, if rumour spoke truly, the Pathshire was to winter there alone. Both she and Margaret wanted to be near Hugh, and taking into consideration the probabilities of the squadron’s ever uncertain movements, they seemed likely to see more of him at Wei-hai than elsewhere.... But he couldn’t do his business at Wei-hai, Mr. Fane-Herbert remonstrated; the boy was quite capable of looking after himself.
“You are quite free,” Mrs. Fane-Herbert had said, “to move about independently of us. If the Pathshire leaves Wei-hai for long we will come anywhere you like, and return when the Pathshire returns. We shall have enough time in her absence to see Japan, and Hong-Kong, and Shanghai, or any other places you feel we ought to see. At present I want to see my son. Wild horses shall not move me.”
She had had enough of travelling. She liked to be settled in a home, and did not intend to trail about the seas at her husband’s heels.
Nick invited himself to dine, and John and Hugh, who would not ask for late leave that night, went ashore in the afternoon.
“Mr. Alter is always talking of you,” Margaret told him when, after tea, he had her alone. “He wants more of your work, and he has given me this letter for you.”