“My lords, may I speak freely? I do not ask safety for myself. My life is worthless, but my cause and my clan are dear to me. Promise me that if I exceed the limits of propriety, or if what I say appears to you as high treason, you will permit me to let me expiate my transgression alone, and that it shall never go beyond these walls. My young friend will share my doom, so that the secret will remain locked up between you.”
Both Iwakura and Sanjo bowed assent.
Kano after thanking them, said:—“Imperial orders are issued over His Majesty’s sign manual, and the tenor of those orders depends naturally upon the sympathy of the kuge in charge. Could not a change be effected by which it was placed within the hands of one favorable to the cause of Japan?”
Iwakura looked at Sanjo and shook his head. “Impossible,” he said. “The sign manual is held for life by one appointed by Tenshi Sama upon the request of a majority of the council. No,” he repeated, “that can not be done.”
“In that case,” suggested Inouye, speaking before Kano could commit himself, “can not his Majesty be induced to ride to Hakone and drive the foreigners into the ocean. This would call forth such a host as Dai Nippon has never seen. There would be no danger, no risk even, for I am sure that the barbarians would not await the approach of such an army. They would take ship and depart, with the conviction that Dai Nippon was opposed to their presence.”
“That might be done,” said Sanjo, approvingly. “Send me an official letter signed with the seal of your clan and containing that request, and I shall submit it to the Council. But do it at once, and while the impression made by Mr. Kano is vivid. Let there be no delay.”
“If your lordships will order one of your servants to go with us, the letter shall be written at once,” replied Kano, preparing to depart. As they were leaving, a gentleman approached followed by a page. “Are these the gentlemen from Nagato?” he inquired. Being assured of their identity, he took a long package from the page and severing a cord, presented one to Kano and one to Inouye. “His Imperial Highness Prince Arisugawa bids you accept these as a token of his good will,” he said. Both prostrated themselves and lifted the present to their forehead. When they arrived home, they found each a costly sword.
The letter was written and submitted to the Council. Kano’s address must have made a deep impression, for he was informed in a private communication from Sanjo that his suggestion had been adopted, and orders had been issued to make the necessary preparations. At this time the fate of the foreigners in Japan hung by a thread.
Of all the clans of the Tokugawa family,—Iyeyasu had endowed his sons with ample estates,—all but Aidzu seemed as if stricken with palsy at the storm raging about them. But Aidzu, in its mountain home, had preserved its manhood, and despatched to Kyoto a man of penetration and dauntless courage. Shortly after taking command, the guards at the palace gates were quadrupled, and all ingress and egress prohibited, except under a most severe system of passports, obtained from the commandant himself.
On the 30th of September, 1863, Kano was sitting in his room overlooking the accounts of the clan, when Ito and Inouye entered hurriedly. There was no diminution of the salutations, and both waited until the Councillor spoke. Kano, however, saw at once that something important had occurred, and he simply requested them to speak.