The boy came, bowed, and squatted down.
“Are you doing well at school?”
Ekichi bowed.
“Read that to me,” he continued, taking up a book. The boy began to read in the sing-song tone necessary to render ideographic writing intelligible to the reader. His father then inquired after his progress in athletic exercises, and finally said: “Come, we shall go into the garden!”
They walked together to an artificial hillock, found in every Japanese garden of any pretensions, and ascended to the top. Here, safe from spies, Kano turned to his son:
“Listen, Ekichi,” he said. “You know the new attendant who came here some months ago?” The child bowed. “Very well; I want you to be the shadow of that man. He must not be anywhere, or you must see him; he may not say a word, or you must hear what it is. I am going away for a few weeks, and when I am back, you must read on this hillock every afternoon, until I come up, and then you must tell me what this man has done, whom he has seen and what he has said. Can you do that do you think?”
The little fellow felt overjoyed at this token of his father’s confidence, but not a look betrayed that feeling. He accepted the charge with a simple bow, and went with his father back to the house.
Kano dressed, and ordered his chair. When he entered it, he said briefly: “To the castle!” Alighting at the inner entrance, he distinctly ejaculated his name; a servant appeared and bade him enter.
The room was almost the same as his sitting-room in his own house. There was no furniture, but a kakemono,[76] of priceless value in Japanese eyes, hung from the wall so that the light fell upon it. A few bronze pieces, masterworks of art, stood where they appeared to demand admiration. In the middle of the room sat the owner of the estate, an estimable gentleman of middle age, dressed in magnificent silk. Kano saluted dutifully and was bidden to approach. He sat down at the prescribed distance, and waited for his master to address him.