“Take care, lads; don’t speak so loud; or should the fellow see that you are laughing or talking about them, they may fancy you are insulting them, and disagreeable consequences may ensue,” cried Jack.
The three captains accordingly turned their horses’ heads and rode off in a different direction to that which the damio and his followers had taken.
On returning on board, the captains received a summons from the admiral, desiring to see them on important business. Having got themselves up in full fig, as required on such occasions, they pulled away for the flag-ship.
“There is something in the wind, depend upon it!” observed one of the midshipmen to Tom. “Did the captain say anything about it to you?”
“I don’t think he knows himself; but if he did, he would not tell me sooner than anybody else,” answered Tom. “I’ll tell you what I heard him and Captain Adair speaking about, and I shouldn’t be surprised if what they are now meeting for is connected with it.”
Most of the occupants of the midshipmen’s birth were assembled at tea.
“Well, Rogers, what is it?” exclaimed several voices.
“Most of us have heard of Prince Satsuma, a mighty magnificent three-tailed Bashaw, the chief lord and owner of the city of Kagosima and the adjacent parts. He, it appears, or one of his bare-backed followers, some time ago murdered, without any rhyme or reason, an English merchant, who happened to be riding along the high road. Of course the British Government demanded satisfaction: the punishment of the murderer, and a good round sum as compensation to his bereaved family. These very moderate terms the prince doesn’t seem inclined to agree to, and we are, therefore, ordered here to impress him with the necessity of doing so, and, if he does not, we are to batter down his town, to take possession of his fleet—for it is said that he has got one—and to make such other reprisals as may be deemed expedient to bring him to reason. I heard the captain say that he paid a visit with one of the principal merchants residing here, who has transactions with the prince, to a Japanese official of high rank in the place—I forget his name—and that during the conversation the matter under dispute was introduced. A Japanese who speaks English very well was present to act as interpreter. The great aim of this official seemed to be to induce the British squadron not to go to Kagosima, and he entreated the captain to visit another official, the prince’s chief envoy. This, he said, could not be done without permission of the admiral, but, if granted, he would willingly do as he was requested. No sooner had the interpreter translated the captain’s reply than the great man, taking out writing materials from a box, seated himself on the floor, and began scribbling away on a scroll of paper, in wonderfully large characters, a note to the envoy. As line after line was finished he rolled it up, and then, with due formality, handed it to the captain, who had the curiosity to measure it, and what do you think was its length? Why, six feet at the very least. Official documents, by the same rule, must be thirty or forty feet long, according to their importance.”
“Can you tell us the length of a lover’s billet-doux?” asked the assistant surgeon.
“That depends very much on the excess of his ardour, and what he has got to say,” answered Tom; “though, from what I’ve heard, I don’t think the Japanese are addicted to writing love-letters.”