So saying he called Okyo and proposed that they, too, follow the line of march to the river’s bank, or so far as they might be permitted to go.

By this time great crowds of sight-seers had fallen in behind the procession, and Shibusawa was compelled to take his place with the rest and plod along as best he could. The route traversed was along an old roadway, which wound its course through a thickly inhabited part of the city, coming directly to the ancient bridge Ryozoku. As they wended their way past endless rows of deserted houses or closed shops, amidst streamers and bunting, Shibusawa became deeply impressed with the boundless patriotism and intense loyalty of the people. Everywhere they were doing homage and nowhere was heard the voice of discontent. He felt more than ever proud of his country, and realised as never before the importance of each individual’s place.

They reached the river, Sumida, long after the last of the courtiers had passed, and the long bridge was then so thronged as to be impossible of further access. Hence they abandoned that, the choicest vantage point, and remained on the bank of the river, from which they got only an indistinct view of the shogun and his suite as they sailed down the river in their gaily-decked house-boats, and passed under the bridge, the crowning feat of the day. Had they been closer Shibusawa might have recognised, in a boat close after the shogun’s, familiar faces—the same that escaped him earlier in the day, while he sat dreaming of Kinsan and the accidental meeting.

Now that the most exciting feature of the day had passed, Shibusawa’s thoughts reverted to the incident which had so deeply impressed him. Try as best he might he could not dismiss it, and after a while he became anxious, and wondered if it were possible to see her again; and if he should, would she recognise him? Then he said to himself:

“Why should she recognise me? And, what is more, why should I seek to see her?”

However, he did try to see her, and when it became certain that there was no chance of doing so at the river he grew impatient, though more determined. The daylight fireworks floating high in the air; the music, the songs, and the laughter wafted from the river; the dancing, the feasting, and the merry-making on shore, ceased to be of interest, and by the time they had finished a light luncheon at a convenient tea house Shibusawa became anxious to return to their own lodgings.

He had made up his mind that the most likely place to meet the young maiden a second time was at the very one where he first met her. There she should pass while returning from the fête, though under what circumstances he did not know. And would she look again, or had she not remembered him? These and many more were the questions which Shibusawa asked himself during the interval of returning and waiting; and as time passed he grew uneasy. Something burned within him, and he felt that he must see and know this beautiful woman. He sat quietly in his rooms thinking only of her coming. Presently a hurrying and gathering upon the street signified the returning of the royal party; whereupon Shibusawa sprang up and seated himself at the balcony’s edge, so that none could pass without his seeing him.

A number of detachments had passed in order, and then Kinsan came as before, except that she was accompanied by several girl friends whom she had been permitted to invite with her on the return trip. They were laughing and chatting about things which pleased them most, and Kinsan’s added charms appealed more than ever to Shibusawa. He leaned over the balcony, as if drawn toward her by an unseen hand, and prayed that in some way her attention might be drawn to him and that he might once more look into her eyes, if only for an instant.

Kinsan was so engaged with her companions that she seemed about to go by without even a chance look, and as she came closer his heart appeared almost to stand still; though he was soon to be transported, for when directly opposite, Kinsan gave him the long looked for opportunity. Nor was there any mistaking her intention for mere accident. Shibusawa read that she too had experienced some sort of feeling which this time prompted her to look, and to manifest an interest, if not desire. It was more than he could bear to let her go in silence; she would not stop again, and he had not a moment to lose; he felt that he must speak to her—his very life depended upon it—he knew not why, nor did he care. He must do what his heart told him to do.

Now had he realised his present position Shibusawa might not have done what he was about to do, but with his whole heart set upon one thing he for the moment forgot himself, and ran down the straight-set stairs and out at the front, wholly under the force of blind impulse. Under ordinary circumstances there would have been no breach in doing what he sought to do, for custom gave a gentleman the right to approach an inferior without the least formality.