XLII
LONE in his deserted apartments the Mori sat—prince no longer, for with other nobles and daimios he had resigned his fief into the Mikado’s hands. The officers had long ago departed, to enter upon the new courses the parting benefits of their leader had determined for them. Some were already upon their way to the provinces, the offices of Mori had procured for them, as governors appointed by the Mikado.
Toro had gone to Catzu, to govern for the Mikado the territory his father had administered for the Shogun. Father and son had been reunited. The Lady Evening Glory had long been dead, and Catzu was without a mistress.
Yet Mori had detailed for Toro what he considered a greater reward.
“Toro,” said Mori, “you will deliver this order, signed by me, in person to the Lady Hollyhock, directing her to cease forthwith her mutinous rebellion, and to render herself as a conquered province into thy hands.”
“But, your highness,” said Toro, “I do not desire an unwilling bride, who yields herself but to superior command.”
Mori’s smile had within it the tinge of a satirical wisdom.
“Toro, my comrade and friend,” he said, gravely, “I do assure you that you will not need that order. The heart of the lady is yours. Only her coquetry holds out, and finding in my writ a convenient pretext, she will gladly go the way the heart has long directed.”
With exuberant joy Toro had started from the apartment.