“It is of no avail, Worth,” he said. “Your sacrifice would result in no good. If we are not strong enough to shelter you, we are not strong enough to resist Mito. The matter is in my hands, not yours. Let writing materials be brought.”
“What would you do?” I demanded, seized with a premonition of his purpose.
He smiled almost gayly. “The time has come for me to give myself for the success of my mission.”
“Tomo,” I cried, “not that! not that!”
“What is death?” he argued. “A passing from blind form to unhampered spirit; a freeing of the bonds of earthly desire. Other and higher incarnations await him who has sought to overcome self.”
“Tomo, I have brought you to this fearful thought—I can never forgive myself!”
“You have nothing to forgive, Worth. You are in no manner responsible for what I am about to do. That was determined upon by me before I so much as saw your ship in Kagoshima Bay. How often have I told you that my life has been vowed?”
“Yet it might not have been required! It is my selfishness that is forcing you to this dreadful decision. At the best I am a condemned man. It is my right to do what little I can to free the House of Owari from blame.”
“The House of Owari stands or falls in honor. To thrust you out as a ronin would stain that honor, and it would rightfully be considered as evidence of weakness. No, brother! There is one chance, and only one, to check the intrigues of Mito.”
I shuddered. “So dreadful a death, Tomo! Could I but take your place!”