He closed his eyes and remained silent. Taru took one hand and held it fast, Bob held the other. He waited, sad at heart, grieved that Japan was to lose one who had served her so well. He thought of the long hours of agony this hero must have suffered; the tortures of hunger and thirst, the fierce temptation that must have assailed him. Kobo had been reticent of details, but Bob understood that he might have purchased his life by disclosing the methods of the Japanese secret service. How small a thing, thought Bob, to meet death bravely in the heat of battle! in a moment a man passes from full life to quietude. But to endure such horrors as Kobo had faced without flinching needed another kind of courage, a higher mind, a greater soul. Bob thrilled with sympathy and admiration, and all the time felt an aching disappointment that he had not been able to avert this tragic martyrdom.
Kobo's eyes slowly opened. In tones almost inaudible he said a few words in Japanese to his servant. Taru bent to the floor, and placed his master's hand upon his head. Kobo looked at Bob, and attempted feebly to press his hand.
"It is good-bye," he said. "I am going into the dark—which is rest. Good-bye."
Bob could not speak. There was a moment of silence. The dying man gasped painfully.
"Taru," he murmured. "Taru—sayonara!"
His head sank. Taru waited a few moments; then, lifting Kobo's hand, he rose saying:
"Be at peace, dear master."
CHAPTER XXVI
Old Friends and New Prospects
Compulsory Leave—Andrew B. Charteris—Looking Ahead—The Busy Bee—Smuggling Ah-Sam—Schwab Proposes—A Blessing