His eyes widened almost to Occidental roundness, the pupils purpling with the intensity of his emotion. “My thanks, brother! But it is impossible—impossible!”
“At the worst they can only send me packing in a bamboo cage, to be shipped out of Nagasaki by the Dutch.”
“That is the usual course with wrecked sailors, but should you go with me, they might torture and execute you as a spy.”
“Not with Perry’s fleet in Eastern waters,” I replied. “I give your government credit for at least a modicum of statesmanship. Yet even supposing they lack all wisdom, I choose to take the risk. There is no room for argument. You are going, so am I. Why, sir, it’s an adventure such as I have been longing for all my life! You cannot turn me from it.”
“If not I, others can and will. The ometsukes are everywhere. You could not so much as effect a landing.”
“And you?” I demanded.
“I am Japanese. There is a chance for me to slip through. But you—”
“Disguised in Japanese dress! Can I not talk good Japanese? Have I not accustomed myself to your costume? A little more practice with the chopsticks and clogs—”
“Your eyes! In all Japan there is to be found no one with round eyes of violet blue.”
“I can learn to squint; and have you not told me of the deep-brimmed hats worn by your freelances, the ronins? You have said that many high-born Japanese have faces no darker than my own, and that brown hair is not unknown.”