"'I thank you deeply,' Father replied, 'for this and other kindness. I left my home to return no more. I gave instructions then. I have no message.'
"But he asked that the Commander would care for his attendant who, by Father's death, would become a masterless man. The General assured him that this should be done; and also told him that his own highest retainer would be Father's attendant at the last. Thanks were bowed and formal courtesies exchanged, then these two men, who had grown to know and respect each other deeply, parted with no other word. It seems cold to an American; but it was the samurai way, and each knew the other's heart.
"The hour came. Father held the highest rank of the seven who waited for the midnight hour; so, first and alone, clothed in his death-robe and with the pride of centuries in his bearing, he walked toward the temple yard. As he entered the enclosure, the others on the opposite side, white-robed and silent, were waiting. One was a child with an attendant close behind. Father saw—saw without looking—the gray face and strained eyes of Minoto, his own little son's guardian.
"The child made a motion, so slight it was scarcely more than a quiver. Minoto clutched the boy's sleeves. Father strode on. The quiver passed, the boy sat erect, his eyes looking straight forward. It was my brother. Oh, whatever he has been since, in this new world so unfamiliar to him, there, in his own world—the world which by inheritance and environment he understood—he was a samurai! My father took his place with calm and dignified bearing with his head upright and his eyes looking straight forward—unseeing. But in his heart——Oh, why could not the God he did not know pity him?" And I clutched the big collar of the old army coat and buried my coward face within its folds—for I had lost my samurai spirit. America had been too good to me, and part of me had died. I felt Mother's hand upon my shoulder but I dared not lift my head and shame my father, for moisture was on the face of his un-brave daughter.
"Oh, my little girl! My dear little girl! But he did not die! He did not die!"
I lifted my head, but I did not wipe my eyes.
"The war had ended, and the new Government had pardoned all political prisoners," I said, calm again. "The decision was already known to the officials, and the messengers were on the way; but, until they came, the forms had to be carried out to the very end."
"Yes, I have known of things like that in the days when messages were carried by galloping horses and running men," said Mother sadly. "And no one was to blame. If laws could be changed by unproved knowledge, the country would soon be guided by guesswork. And that would never do! That would never do!"
I looked at Mother in surprise, for with red cheeks and misty eyes she was clutching tight the army coat on her lap and looking straight at me.
"How close together are the countries of the world," she went on. "Your old nurse was right, Etsu, when she said that the earth is flat and you are on the other side of the plate, not far away, but out of sight."