“I am samurai bred. It is a privilege to offer one’s life in a great cause. You, I fear, will have the harder task. I shall ask you to perform for me the service of best friend.”
“You mean—?”
“You will act as my chief second in the ceremony.”
“No! no!” I cried, quivering with horror. “If you cannot be turned from your dreadful sacrifice, let Yuki—but I—the very thought—my God!”
“Yuki is your retainer. I will accept him as my inferior second. You are my friend and equal. I ask you to perform the highest office of friendship.”
“No!” I protested. “The very thought is too terrible! I cannot endure it.”
“The chief second is not always required to act,” he said. “I may have the fortitude to dispense with assistance. Will you not render me this great service of friendship? It is the custom. You will win the gratitude of my father, the grateful respect of the Owari clansmen. Promise me the favor.”
“Tomo! you know how abhorrent to all my Western ideas—”
“It is the highest office of friendship. My brother, you admire the samurai spirit because it is in your blood. No samurai will flinch when duty demands. You are my friend, my kinsman. You will serve me, Worth! With my sword in your hands, I will undertake the ceremony certain of an honorable outcome. Remember, you are now a son of Dai Nippon.”
“You insist?—Good God!”