“I owe you an apology, Mr. Perry,” Captain Inaba said in a low voice. The others had walked to the far corner of the library leaving the two alone together. “I was greatly disturbed when I last saw you, and am afraid I was not courteous. I have since seen your great friend and also mine, Lieutenant Takishima, and am sensible of the honor of having your aid in this painful misunderstanding. The lost letter was a great shock, but we hope to soon regain it.”
Phil dared not raise his guilty eyes. He felt Inaba’s searching gaze upon him and knew that the red blush of shame which was then on his cheeks was not lost on the subtle Japanese. Was Captain Inaba only making sport of him? The letter was at that time doubtless in Captain Inaba’s hands and, what was worse, he knew that it had been taken from Phil’s pocket!
Phil believed that all eyes were upon him, for in his anxiety he had not observed that the others had withdrawn. He felt utterly overcome with mortification and considered seriously running precipitously from the room. He cudgeled his brain for something, anything to say, to relieve the tension of the situation. Then suddenly the apparent cruelty of the accusing attitude of the naval officer maddened him. He had not looked up, but he was sure that he was frowning upon him as the betrayer of his friend.
“I hope you will find it, if you have not already,” Phil stammered out, half in humility and half in anger; then he raised his eyes and saw that Captain Inaba was bowing himself out of the room, his parchment-like face as cold and forbidding as ever.
Impey remained behind, and Phil noticed that his manner was constrained. He lingered but a few minutes talking to the ambassador and Helen and then left the little group of Americans alone together.
The ambassador nodded to the two midshipmen to follow him and led the way back to his office. Helen knew intuitively that she was not included in the invitation, and with an impatient pout turned back into the library.
Mr. Tillotson seated himself at his desk and signed to the two lads to come near him. They saw that his face was pale, and that there were lines under his eyes which showed plainly the mental strain of much worry. When he spoke his voice was low and anxious.
“We are on the threshold of a national crisis,” he said, speaking with his eyes on the floor. “No one can be believed. My government has entrusted to me the duty of finding out the real intentions of Japan, and I am beset with conflicting counsel on all sides. The Chinese squadron is near Colombo, Ceylon, on its way to China. Our fleet is between it and its destination, and we must know before it is too late whether Japan will attempt to seize these vessels to reënforce her navy, and if so whether her intentions are hostile. Mr. Impey has just informed me that a paper has fallen into his hands which divulges the secret that Japan has determined to buy or rather seize the ships. China has not paid for them, and is too weak to resist the Japanese fleet. If I could depend upon this I would cable Washington, and our fleet is in a position to checkmate the move. Captain Inaba then comes to see me with apologies from the Minister of Marine for last night’s disturbance at the theatre. He praised our sailors highly, and said the Emperor wished to commend our men for their loyalty and patriotism in saving our flag from insult. What can one believe?”
The two midshipmen shook their heads in deep perplexity. This then was what had been learned from the document which Phil had found only to lose it. The midshipmen mutually decided that what they had come to tell the ambassador would better for the present remain unsaid. To convince him that Impey was a double-faced scoundrel after this unsought confidence might be difficult. That must wait a more opportune time.