“Civility for civility; insolence for insolence,” I rejoined. “He called me ‘white devil’; you call me ‘barbarian.’ You are both foolish children, pitifully ignorant of the mighty civilization of the tojin peoples. I have come to Nippon with Yoritomo Sama—”
“Wait,” he interrupted, “First let the charges against the prisoner be read.”
A secretary raised the indictment to his forehead, and murmured: “Charges are made that the tojin companion of Yoritomo, son of Owari dono, is a member of the evil sect; that he has discharged a firearm within the proscribed limits about Yedo; and that he is a spy sent to Nippon by the barbarians.”
“Regarding the first charge, I deny that I am a member of what you call the evil sect,” I stated.
One of the judges pointed to the floor beside me, with a laconic command: “Tread!”
I looked down at the bronze plate upon which Yoritomo had trod so readily. On its smooth surface was incised a Latin cross. I faced my judges again, prepared for the worst. I was not a Roman Catholic,—nor for that matter a member of any Christian denomination,—but I did not propose to spurn that symbol with my foot.
“Denial of the charge has been made,” I said. “The word of a tojin daimio is sufficient. I will not submit to a foolish ceremony.”
“Make note, the prisoner denies the first charge, yet refuses to tread upon the image,” called the youngest magistrate, without attempting to hide his exultance. “Bring forward the witness to the second charge.—Stand aside, barbarian!”
As I crossed to Yoritomo, one of the guards drew away a screen at the edge of the pit, and exposed to view a clumsy wooden cage. A second guard opened the cage. From within crept a half-naked man. The guards caught him on either side and guided his tottering steps across to the torturers’ post. Though his face was marked with the effects of atrocious suffering, I knew him at a glance. He was Yuki, the captain of the hatamoto cortege, now beggared and degraded by a perverse judgment. The freshly healed gashes on his chest and shoulders confirmed his identity.
“Has Yuki the ronin thought better of his obduracy?” demanded the eldest judge. “If so, let him look upon his fellow-culprits, and speak the full truth.”