CHAPTER XXV—Hara-Kiri
Not until I stood in my own apartments in Owari Yashiki, alone with Yoritomo, did I give way to the tempest within my soul. Even then the frailness of the walls compelled me to speak with lowered voice, but my pent-up rage and despair vented themselves in a flood of bitter complaint. Never had I seen my friend so concerned. Yet it was the outcome he had predicted, and he could give me no hope.
“I grieve for you, Worth,” he said. “You have learned the truth. The remotest suggestion of your desire would seem madness to Iyeyoshi.”
“But she loves me—”
“The daughters of daimios and shoguns are presumed not to love until after marriage. Your statement to him that she loved you was most unfortunate. Even a samurai of the lowest rank would consider such a declaration an aspersion upon his family honor. Had it not been for that—”
“Forgive me, Tomo! I have played into the hands of your enemies—I have endangered all your plans! The tyrant will not stop at punishing me. He will wreak his anger upon those who have harbored the hated tojin. I shall leave Owari Yashiki at once and turn ronin, taking with me Yuki. Neither of us shall continue to bring danger upon the House of Owari.”
For some moments he sat silent, regarding me with a smile of womanly tenderness. When he replied he spoke as if quoting from the Chinese classics: “Far better is death in the consciousness of honor than a grovelling prosperity. The laws of hospitality are sacred: they may not be violated. A house that cannot stand upright should fall.”
“The House of Owari bears the weight of the contest against Mito,” I argued. “The enemies of Owari seek to use the harboring of the tojin as a lever to overthrow the real friends of Nippon.”