While the samurai drew the struggling comrades into the outer air, there was the quick hum of voices over the assemblage that a moment before had seemed as stone. Neighbor conversed with neighbor, the Japanese in consternation, the Americans in wonder.
The interpreter rapidly translated to the American officer the words that had passed between the commissioner and his interrupters. Some of the Americans caught at the drift of events even before their comrades sitting near to the interpreter understood the Dutchman’s statements to their commander.
“’Pears to me to be something to this two-king business,” said a marine to his fellow.
“We’ll leave our bones here, sure enough,” was the pessimistic response.
“What explanation can you offer of this?” demanded Perry.
The Lord Catzu lifted his eyebrows.
“Explanation! I do not explain it. They were fanatical priests, madmen, who thought that the head of the church should take over the direction of the state. You have such in your own country?”
The American was not satisfied with this statement. The interpreter informed the commissioners of this fact. Said the Lord Catzu:
“If you do not believe me, I shall, with the concurrence of my colleague, be obliged to declare all proceedings estopped. I cannot continue under such circumstances.”
The American saw thus slipping from him the rewards of the labor of months. He might be making a mistake, but he must proceed at once.