“That has been our belief from the first,” Bransome remarked.
“I came to Europe,” the Prince continued gravely, “to make a report to my cousin the Emperor of Japan as to whether I believed that a renewal of our alliance with you would be advantageous to my country. I need not shrink from discussing this matter with you now, for my report is made. It is, even now, on its way to the Emperor.”
There was a moment’s silence, a silence which in this corner of the great room seemed marked with a certain poignancy. It was the Prime Minister who broke it.
“The report,” he said, “is out of your hands. The official decision of your Government will reach us before long. Is there any reason why you should not anticipate that decision, why you should not tell us frankly what your advice was?”
“There is no reason,” the Prince answered. “I will tell you. I owe that to you at least. I have advised the Emperor not to renew the treaty.”
“Not to renew,” the Prime Minister echoed.
This time the silence was portentous. It was a blow, and there was not one of the three men who attempted to hide his dismay.
“I am afraid,” the Prince continued earnestly, “that to you I must seem something of an ingrate. I have been treated by every one in this country as the son of a dear friend. The way has been made smooth for me everywhere. Nothing has been hidden. From all quarters I have received hospitality which I shall never forget. But you are three just men. I know you will realize that my duty was to my country and to my country alone. No one else has any claims upon me. What I have seen I have written of. What I believe I have spoken.”
“Prince,” Mr. Haviland said, “there is no one here who will gainsay your honesty. You came to judge us as a nation and you have found us wanting. At least we can ask you why?”
The Prince sighed.