CHAPTER XIV
THE “NO” DANCE

After the departure of Perry and his fleet there was nothing of importance from the outside world to disturb the quaint little kingdom, so snugly hemmed in by the eastern waters. There was no immediate necessity for any material change at the newly made treaty ports, and in consequence the administration made known only so much of the terms of the compromise as it was thought would satisfy the opposition. The people were left in doubt as to its full purport, and thus they soon became reconciled to a belief that after all the danger might not be so great as at first supposed.

After the storm had passed there came a lull which might have lasted indefinitely had Ikamon been more sagacious in the treatment of local affairs. His sway at home was now supreme, and his rule so effective that he mistook complaisance for submission, and as a result overlooked the slow but positive disaffection in the south.

When the readjustment took place it was thought that Saigo’s reward and position would tend to allay the discontent in that locality, and that an economic policy would again restore the shogun to the full confidence of all sections of the country. This was true in a measure, but the patriots who worshipped at the mikado’s seat could not be effectively won over by personal favours bestowed upon their leaders. They were full of the soul of ancient times, and nothing short of a complete restoration of conditions could satisfy their rising spirits.

However, the shock of recent events had so checked their growth as to give Ikamon a chance to centralise his force and place Tetsutaisho at the head of a consolidated army. In all these doings the young general took no active part other than to hold himself in readiness to strike when called upon, but in the meantime gave himself up wholly to the delights of a love that was inevitable, if without the pale. Shibusawa continued to remain absent, and to all but his father had become as if forgotten, while Takara was now the favourite of the lord daimyo, and the castle offered her every privilege as she liked. Tetsutaisho was her slave, and she toyed with him as with a child, coming regularly and remaining at her will.

“Let us go down by the summer garden,” said she, on a sultry afternoon in July, as they finished their tea on the veranda. “There by the pond where the snow-white cranes stalk silently about or lazily tuck their sacred heads; under the rose-covered retreat that juts out over the iris-flagged waters. How I do love to sit there and be your idle-thought!”

“I am glad you proposed it. I will call the carriers and we will take the norimonos (chairs) down. It is too hot to walk this day,” answered he, glad of the chance.

Having in a little while arrived at the chosen retreat they lounged on the matted floor amidst the fragrance of the lotus and in view of the iris-studded waters in front. A cool breeze gently floated in, and now and then a golden crane crossed in the wake of his abode.

“I wish I were a bird,” said Takara, dreamily.

“Then I should be your mate,” answered Tetsutaisho, quickly.