“Because, don’t you see, my honourable duffer, that if we did so the explosion would put all Port Arthur, and the fleet too, on the qui vive long before we could get at them, and thus spoil our chances of bagging the battleships?” I replied. “No, certainly not. Let the cruiser go; it is the battleships we want. There go the Asashio’s lanterns. Hoist away, quartermaster!”
“Yes, yes; I see,” replied Ito in crestfallen tones; “you are honourably right, of course. Aha! there goes the cruiser. The honourable Captain Matsunaga has evidently honourably satisfied her. He honourably speaks Russian like a native.”
It was an exciting moment; but, tense as it was, I could not help being amused at the pertinacity with which Ito, like all the Japanese, dragged in the word “honourable” upon every possible and impossible occasion. It arises, of course, out of the desire, drilled into them, generation after generation, to be extremely polite; and doubtless when speaking in their own tongue, the word is never unsuitably used; but when they undertake to talk English, it is frequently pitchforked into the conversation in the most incongruous and even ludicrous fashion, and I decided that it would only be kind to give Ito a lesson upon the absurdity of employing it inappropriately. The opportunity came a few minutes later.
The Askold, apparently satisfied with Captain Matsunaga’s explanation, put her helm hard a-starboard and swept on, presently vanishing in the darkness; and a minute or two later the Asashio made the signal for the Divisions to separate as arranged, starboarding her helm as she did so and leading Number 1 Division to the westward, while Divisions 2 and 3 ported and swerved sharply away to the eastward.
“The critical moment is at hand,” said I. “Be so good, Mr Ito, as to go down on the main deck and assure yourself that everything is ready, and that the men are standing by the tubes and guns.”
Then Ito turned upon me and poured out an impassioned entreaty that he might be “honourably” permitted to take charge of and fire the torpedoes himself. I considered for a moment. The man who might chance to score a hit in the coming attempt would gain immense kudos, I knew, and, in all probability, promotion also. By rights, of course, Ito’s station should be by me, to take my place should I chance to be hit; but he was just as liable to be hit on the bridge as anywhere else; also it would be doing him a kindness to grant his request. So:
“Now, look here, Ito,” I said, “it is of paramount importance that the men in charge of the tubes to-night should be first-rate shots, and as cool as cucumbers; for, hit or miss, I do not suppose we shall be afforded a chance to discharge more than the two torpedoes already in our tubes; therefore they must both hit. Now, are you a good shot with the torpedo?”
Ito solemnly assured me that there was not a better torpedo shot than himself in the whole Japanese fleet.
“And is your nerve all right? I mean, are you perfectly cool?” I demanded.
“As cool as the honourable cucumber,” he asserted. “Feel my unworthy hand.”