“‘And do you not think of your wife?’ Taka Suke still persisted. ‘Have you no feeling of pity for her, who, if you insist upon your refusal, must suffer a cruel death; none for your son, who, if he grows up in the likeness of his father, with the advantages which your new position would confer upon him, might become one of Japan’s most famous men, perpetuating your name and renown to the latest generations?’
“‘My wife is a samurai’s wife, and knows she must take her share of the pains and penalties, as well as enjoy the privileges and advantages, of her position; my son had better die a lingering death than succeed through the shame and disgrace of his father.’
“‘Yes,’ Taka Suke, now dropping his mask, replied angrily, ‘I know you are one of those who believe in chiugi and kataki-uchi and all those devices which are implicitly followed by fools and weak-minded persons, but which men of sense make use of only to suit the occasion. I can understand the beauty of kataki-uchi when used against those who have injured me, and of chiugi when it governs the behavior of my dependants. It is true our cause is threatened, and it is necessary for the continuance of Hōjō power that men of influence, wherever they may be found, should be enlisted in its support. Such men as you, respected by samurai and by the rabble, equally ready with sword, tongue, and pen, are rare enough, and their action influences thousands of others. I do not yet despair of bringing you over to our side. Men of your stamp are inclined to sacrifice themselves, satisfied with the delusion that their virtues will be lauded and appreciated after their death. But I will leave you no such consolation. I will have it spread about that through you your master was betrayed. I will have you brought to the castle of Kamakura; and while it will be said that you have left your family in order to enjoy a licentious life with the wages of your treason, you shall pine away a close prisoner. What do you say to this prospect; and how, under these circumstances, will your name be spoken of by posterity?’
A PRISON.
“Outwardly calm and composed, although this speech did not fail to stir him to the deepest anger and indignation, Mutto replied: ‘Whatever you may do, the truth will sooner or later be certain to prevail. Knowing that it is impossible to appease the manes of my murdered lord with your blood, I can only show my devotion by committing seppuku, which I will not now defer any longer. No honest man’s finger shall point at me in scorn, no disloyal samurai shall cite me and claim me as a living companion in shame. I will have the satisfaction of having lived and died as a feudal retainer should live and die,—loyal to my lord and master.’
“‘No, no! you shall have no such satisfaction. I will not leave you to delude yourself with this thought,’ Taka Suke vehemently broke in. ‘You do not yet know all. Ando Goro, it is true, paid the penalty for his treason with his life; but his two young sons yet live. Yes, they yet live,’ he repeated with cold emphasis, as Mutto turned pale and started, half in joy, half in affright, with a nameless dread of what might be coming; ‘but you will never learn their abode, for they have been taken to a distant isle, where they are carefully watched by men devoted to me. I have changed my intention as to the measures to be adopted in regard to you, and you shall go from this place free and untrammelled. But you shall pledge your knightly word that you will make no attempt against my life or against your own; and the safety of these two boys shall answer for your fidelity. In case of your death they shall be made to follow you at once into the shadowy land to which you are so anxious to go; and I shall also make immediate and careful disposition that any attempt at my life, whether successful or not, shall give them no longer time on earth than relays of fleet-running messengers require to carry them their doom. What say you to this, Numa? Had you not better at once enter my service and watch over a life which now must be very precious to you?’ Taka Suke asked this question with a sneer; it was thrown away, however, for the last revelation had done its work, and the man before him was utterly prostrate and broken-hearted. ‘But I will not press you for an answer now’, the Hōjō chief continued. ‘You shall give me the promise I asked for, sealing it with your blood; and then you can take your own time. And remember that whenever you choose to come to me, all the honors and emoluments promised shall be yours at once, without further reference or allusion to what has passed between us.’
POSTAL COURIERS.