Those about the Treaty House watched the dancing course of the boat over the waves, until, having discharged its officer at the coastline, it withdrew into stiller water; watched with seeming apprehension his landward course up the heights.
The officer was young; he knew a few words of Japanese, and went at once to the point upon his arrival before the Treaty House.
“What do these screens mean?” he demanded.
The minor officials looked from one to another. One official, a determined expression passing for an instant over his face, stepped forward. He bowed politely.
“We—insignificant and unworthy brained men that we are—cannot understand that honorable language that you speak. It is not Japanese, nor yet Dutch, which alone we know.”
Enough of this speech was understood by the lieutenant. Plainly, they pretended not to understand his Japanese.
“Wherefore these hidings of the light of the honorable sun from our insignificant eyes?” he continued in Japanese, changing his idiom.
Again came the answer of the Japanese official.
“Your excellency, we cannot understand.”
The lieutenant uttered an oath. These heathen were trying, he told himself.