In the midst of the hush that followed the reading, Yoritomo smiled, bowed, and called out in a clear voice: “The favor of the high magistrates will be remembered by Owari’s heir.”
The judges glanced furtively at Midzuano, plainly troubled by the menace beneath the suavely ironical words. The Chief Counsellor sat cold and unmoved. Another secretary raised a scroll to his forehead, and read:
“The tojin called Adamisu Woroto: Whereas, contrary to the explicit wording of the ancient edict, you, a tojin, entered the domain of the Sei-i-tai Shogun to spy upon Dai Nippon, and whereas you have confessed to discharging a firearm within the bounds of Yedo, each of which crimes is worthy of death, the sentence of the Court is that you shall be borne to Bell Grove in bonds, there to be boiled to death in oil—”
I heard no more of the hideous sentence. The sound of the reader’s voice dwindled to a drone like the singing of insects. I swayed forward, dizzy and pallid. To be boiled alive!—I forgot Yuki, but I remembered the revolver in my bosom. A cold fury of despair seized upon me. I would end all, now while I had the chance first to send to hell that corpse-eyed Chief Counsellor.
My hand stole in between the folds of my robe. Not a moment too soon to stop me, I heard Yoritomo’s piercing whisper: “Wait! Not now—not now!”
The magistrates were rising to leave the hall of audience. But Midzuano remained seated. I paused with my hand gripped on the butt of my revolver. They were minor officials,—mere tools in the hands of our enemies. The man who had dictated their actions still lingered. I could wait.
Midzuano drew from his sleeve a written scroll and a seal, and called for a brush and ink. One of the secretaries who had remained brought a tray of inks and brushes. Midzuano took up a brush, dipped it in a saucer of freshly ground ink, and unrolled the scroll.
Satsuma turned his powerful face squarely about to the Chief Counsellor. “Is Midzuano Echizen-no-kami in such haste to issue the warrant of the Council of Elders confirming the sentence against the prisoners?” he demanded.
“Too great zeal cannot be shown in ridding the land of spies and traitors,” replied Midzuano, and he filled in a blank space in the warrant with swift strokes of his brush.
“A word of counsel to the Counsellor,” interposed Yoritomo.