CHAPTER XXXIII. UNAFRAID
The Prince, still fully attired, save that in place of his dress coat hewore a loose smoking jacket, stood at the windows of his sitting roomat Devenham Castle, looking across the park. In the somewhat fitfulmoonlight the trees had taken to themselves grotesque shapes. Awayin the distance the glimmer of the sea shone like a thin belt ofquicksilver. The stable clock had struck two. The whole place seemedat rest. Only one light was gleaming from a long low building which hadbeen added to the coach houses of recent years for a motor garage. Thatone light, the Prince knew, was on his account. There his chauffeurwaited, untiring and sleepless, with his car always ready for that lastrush to the coast, the advisability of which the Prince had consideredmore than once during the last twenty-four hours. The excitement of theevening, the excitement of his unwonted outburst, was still troublinghim. It was not often that he had so far overstepped the bounds whichhis natural caution, his ever-present self-restraint, imposed upon him.He paced restlessly to and fro from the sitting room to the bedroom andback again. He had told the truth,--the bare, simple truth. He had seenthe letters of fire in the sky, and he had read them to these peoplebecause of their kindness, because of a certain affection which he borethem. To them it must have sounded like a man speaking in a strangetongue. They had not understood. Perhaps, even, they would not believein the absolute sincerity of his motives. Again he paused at the windowand looked over the park to that narrow, glittering stretch of sea.Why should he not for once forget the traditions of his race, the pridewhich kept him there to face the end! There was still time. The cruiserwhich the Emperor had sent was waiting for him in Southampton Harbor.In twenty-four hours he would be in foreign waters. He thought of thesethings earnestly, even wistfully, and yet he knew that he could not go.Perhaps they would be glad of an opportunity of getting rid of him nowthat he had spoken his mind. In any case, right was on their side. Theend, if it must come, was simple enough!
He turned away from the window with a little shrug of the shoulders.Even as he did so, there came a faint knocking at the door. His servanthad already retired. For a moment it seemed to him that it could meanbut one thing. While he hesitated, the handle was softly turned andthe door opened. To his amazement, it was Penelope who stood upon thethreshold.
"Miss Morse!" he exclaimed breathlessly.
She held out her hand as though to bid him remain silent. For severalseconds she seemed to be listening. Then very softly she closed the doorbehind her.
"Miss Penelope," he cried softly, "you must not come in here! Please!"
She ignored his outstretched hand, advancing a little further into theroom. There was tragedy in her white face. She seemed to be shaking inevery limb, but not with nervousness. Directly he looked into her eyes,he knew very well that the thing was close at hand!
"Listen!" she whispered. "I had to come! You don't know what is goingon! For the last half hour the telephone has been ringing continuously.It is about you! The Home Office has been ringing up to speak to thePrime Minister. The Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard has been to seethem. One of their detectives has collected evidence which justifiesthem in issuing a warrant for your arrest."
"For my arrest," the Prince repeated.
"Don't you understand?" she continued breathlessly. "Don't you see howhorrible it is? They mean to arrest you for the murder of Hamilton Fynesand Dicky Vanderpole!"
"If this must be so," the Prince answered, "why do they not come? I amhere."
"But you must not stay here!" she exclaimed. "You must escape! It is tooterrible to think that you should--oh, I can't say it!--that youshould have to face these charges. If you are guilty, well, Heaven helpyou!--If you are guilty, I want you to escape all the same!"
He looked at her with the puzzled air of one who tries to reason with achild.
"Dear Miss Penelope," he said, "this is kind of you, but, after all,remember that I am a man, and I must not run away."
"But you cannot meet these charges!" she interrupted. "You cannot meetthem! You know it! Oh, don't think I can't appreciate your point ofview! If you killed those men, you killed them to obtain papers whichyou believed were necessary for the welfare of your country. Oh, it isnot I who judge you! You did not do it, I know, for your own gain. Youdid it because you are, heart and soul, a patriot. But here, alas! theydo not understand. Their whole standpoint is different. They will judgeyou as they would a common criminal. You must fly,--you must, indeed!"
"Dear Miss Penelope," he said, "I cannot do that! I cannot run away likea thief in the dark. If this thing is to come, it must come."
"But you don't understand!" she continued, wringing her hands. "Youthink because you are a great prince and a prince of a friendly nationthat the law will treat you differently. It will not! They have talkedof it downstairs. You are not formally attached to any one in thiscountry. You are not even upon the staff of the Embassy. You are here ona private mission as a private person, and there is no way in which theGovernment can intervene, even if it would. You are subject to its lawsand you have broken them. For Heaven's sake, fly! You have your motorcar here. Let your man drive you to Southampton and get on board theJapanese cruiser. You mustn't wait a single moment. I believe thattomorrow morning will be too late!"
He took her hands in his very tenderly and yet with something ofreverence in his gesture. He looked into her eyes and he spoke veryearnestly. Every word seemed to come from his heart.
"Dear Miss Penelope," he said, "it is very, very kind of you to havecome here and warned me. Only you cannot quite understand what thisthing means to me. Remember what I told you once. Life and death to yourpeople in this country seem to be the greatest things which the mind ofman can hold. It is not so with us. We are brought up differently. In aworthy cause a true Japanese is ready to take death by the hand at anymoment. So it is with me now. I have no regret. Even if I had, even iflife were a garden of roses for me, what is ordained must come. A littlesooner or a little later, it makes no matter."
She sank on her knees before him.
"Can't you understand why I am here?" she cried passionately. "It was Iwho told of the silken cord and knife!"
He was wholly unmoved. He even smiled, as though the thing were of nomoment.
"It was right that you should do so," he declared. "You must notreproach yourself with that."
"But I do! I do!" she cried again. "I always shall! Don't you understandthat if you stay here they will treat you--"
He interrupted, laying his hand gently upon her shoulder.
"Dear young lady," he said, "you need never fear that I shall wait forthe touch of your men of law. Death is too easily won for that. If theend which you have spoken of comes, there is another way--another houseof rest which I can reach."
She rose slowly to her feet. The absolute serenity of his manner bespokean impregnability of purpose before which the words died away on herlips. She realized that she might as well plead with the dead!
"You do not mind," he whispered, "if I tell you that you must not stayhere any longer?"
He led her toward the door. Upon the threshold he took her cold fingersinto his hand and kissed them reverently.
"Do not be too despondent," he said. "I have a star somewhere whichburns for me. Tonight I have been looking for it. It is there still," headded, pointing to the wide open window. "It is there, undimmed, clearerand brighter than ever. I have no fear."
She passed away without looking up again. The Prince listened to herfootsteps dying away in the corridor. Then he closed the door, and,entering his bedroom, undressed himself and slept...
When Prince Maiyo awoke on the following morning, the sunshine wasstreaming into the room, and his grave-faced valet was standing over hisbed.
"His Highness' bath is ready," he announced.
The Prince dressed quickly and was first in the pleasant morning room,with its open windows leading on to the terrace. He strolled outside andwandered amongst the flower beds. Here he was found, soon afterwards,
bythe Duke's valet.
"Your Highness," the latter said, "His Grace has sent me to look foryou. He would be glad if you could spare him a moment or two in thelibrary."
The Prince followed the man to the room where his host was waiting forhim. The Duke, with his hands behind his back, was pacing restlessly upand down the apartment.
"Good morning, Duke," the Prince said cheerfully. "Another of yourwonderful spring mornings. Upon the terrace the sun is almost hot. SoonI shall begin to fancy that the perfume of your spring flowers is theperfume of almond and cherry blossom."
"Prince," the Duke said quietly, "I have sent for you as your host. Ispeak to you now unofficially, as an Englishman to his guest. Ihave been besieged through the night, and even this morning, withincomprehensible messages which come to me from those who administer thelaw in this country. Prince, I want you to remember that however effeteyou may find us as a nation from your somewhat romantic point ofview, we have at least realized the highest ideals any nation has everconceived in the administration of the law. Nobleman and pauper here arejudged alike. If their crime is the same, their punishment is the same.There is no man in this country who is strong enough to arrest the handof justice."
The Prince bowed.
"My dear Duke," he said, "it has given me very much pleasure, in thecourse of my investigations, to realize the truth of what you have justsaid. I agree with you entirely. You could teach us in Japan a greatlesson on the fearless administration of the law. Now in some othercountries--"
"Never mind those other countries," the Duke interrupted gravely. "Idid not send for you to enter into an academic discussion. I want youclearly to understand how I am placed, supposing a distinguished memberof my household--supposing even you, Prince Maiyo--were to come withinthe arm of the law. Even the great claims of hospitality would leave mepowerless."
"This," the Prince admitted, "I fully apprehend. It is surely reasonablethat the stranger in your country should be subject to your laws."
"Very well, then," the Duke continued. "Listen to me, Prince. Thismorning a London magistrate will grant what is called a search warrantwhich will enable the police to search, from attic to cellar, your housein St. James' Square. An Inspector from Scotland Yard will be there thisafternoon awaiting your return, and he believes that he has witnesseswho will be able to identify you as one who has broken the laws of thiscountry. I ask you no questions. There is the telephone on the table.My eighty-horse-power Daimler is at the door and at your service. Iunderstand that your cruiser in Southampton Harbor is always understeam. If there is anything more, in reason, that I can do, you haveonly to speak." The Prince shook his head slowly.
"Duke," he said, "please send away your car, unless it will take me toLondon quicker than my own. What I have done I have done, and for what Ihave done I will pay."
The Duke laid his hands upon the young man's shoulders and looked downinto his face. The Duke was over six feet high, and broad in proportion.Before him the Prince seemed almost like a boy.
"Maiyo," he said, "we have grown fond of you,--my wife, my daughter,all of us. We don't want harm to come to you, but there is the AmericanAmbassador watching all the time. Already he more than half suspects.For our sakes, Prince,--come, I will say for the sake of those who aregrateful to you for your candor and truthfulness, for the lessons youhave tried to teach us,--make use of my car. You will reach Southamptonin half an hour."
The Prince shook his head. His lips had parted in what was certainly asmile. At the corners they quivered, a little tremulous.
"My dear friend," he said, and his voice had softened almost toaffection, "you do not quite understand. You look upon the things whichmay come from your point of view and not from mine. Remember that, toyour philosophy, life itself is the greatest thing born into the world.To us it is the least. If you would do me a service, please see that Iam able to start for London in half an hour."
CHAPTER XXXIV. BANZAI!
It was curious how the Prince's sudden departure seemed to affect almostevery member of the little house party. At first it had been arrangedthat the Duke, Mr. Haviland, Sir Edward Bransome, and the Princeshould leave in the former's car, the Prince's following later with theluggage. Then the Duchess, whose eyes had filled with tears more thanonce after her whispered conversation with her husband, announced thatshe, too, must go to town. Lady Grace insisted upon accompanying her,and Penelope reminded them that she was already dressed for travellingand that, in any case, she meant to be one of the party. Before teno'clock they were all on their way to London.
The Prince sat side by side with Lady Grace, the other two occupants ofthe car being the Duke himself and Mr. Haviland. No one seemed in theleast inclined for conversation. The Duke and Mr. Haviland exchangeda few remarks, but Lady Grace, leaning back in her seat, her featurescompletely obscured by a thick veil, declined to talk to any one. ThePrince seemed to be the only one who made any pretence at enjoying thebeauty of the spring morning, who seemed even to be aware of the warmwest wind, the occasional perfume of the hedgeside violets, and thebluebells which stretched like a carpet in and out of the belts of wood.Lady Grace's eyes, from beneath her veil, scarcely once left his face.Perhaps, she thought, these things were merely allegorical to him.Perhaps his eyes, fixed so steadfastly upon the distant horizon, werenot, as it seemed, following the graceful outline of that grove of darkgreen pine trees, but were indeed searching back into the corners ofhis life, measuring up the good and evil of it, asking the eternalquestion--was it worth while?
In the other car, too, silence reigned. Somerfield was the only one whostruggled against the general air of depression.
"After all," he remarked to Bransome, "I don't see what we're all soblue about. If Scotland Yard are right, and the Prince is really theguilty person they imagine him, I cannot see what sympathy he deserves.Of course, they look upon this sort of thing more lightly in his owncountry, but, after all, he was no fool. He knew his risks."
Penelope spoke for the first time since they had left Devenham.
"If you begin to talk like that, Charlie," she said, "I shall ask theDuchess to stop the car and put you down here in the road."
Somerfield laughed, not altogether pleasantly.
"Seven miles from any railway station," he remarked.
Penelope shrugged her shoulders.
"I should not care in the least what happened to you, today or at anyother time," she declared.
After that, Somerfield held his peace, and a somewhat strained silencefollowed. Soon they reached the outskirts of London. Long before middaythey slackened speed, after crossing Battersea Bridge, and the twocars drew alongside. They had arranged to separate here, but, curiouslyenough, no one seemed to care to start the leave taking.
"You see the time!" the Prince exclaimed. "It is barely eleven o'clock.I want you all, if you will, to come with me for ten minutes only to myhouse. Tomorrow it will be dismantled. Today I want you each to choosea keepsake from amongst my treasures. There are so many ornaments overhere, engravings and bronzes which are called Japanese and which arereally only imitations. I want you to have something, if you will, toremember me by, all of you, something which is really the handicraft ofmy country people."
The Duke looked for a moment doubtful.
"It wants an hour to midday," the Prince said, softly. "There is time."
They reached St. James' Square in a few minutes. There were no signsof disturbance. The door flew open at their approach. The samesolemn-faced, quietly moving butler admitted them. The Prince led theway into the room upon the ground floor which he called his library.
"It is a fancy of mine," he said, smiling, "to say goodbye to you allhere. You see that there is nothing in this room which is not really theproduct of Japan. Here I feel, indeed, as though I had crossed the seasand were back under the shadow of my own mountains. Here I feel, indeed,your host, especially as I am going to distribute my treasures."
He took a picture from the wall and turned with it to the
Duke.
"Duke," he said, "this engraving is a rude thing, but the hand whichguided the steel has been withered for two hundred years, and no otherexample remains of its cunning. Mr. Haviland," he added, stepping to hiswriting table, "this lacquered shrine, with its pagoda roof, has beenattributed to Kobo-Daishi, and has stood upon the writing table of sevenemperors. Sir Edward, this sword, notwithstanding its strange shape andgilded chasing, was wielded with marvellous effect, if history tells thetruth, a hundred and thirty years ago by my great-grandfather whenhe fought his way to the throne. Sir Charles, you are to go intoParliament. Some day you will become a diplomat. Some day, perhaps, youwill understand our language. Just now I am afraid," he concluded, "thiswill seem to you but a bundle of purple velvet and vellum, but it isreally a manuscript of great curiosity which comes from the oldestmonastery in Asia, the Monastery of Koya-San."
He turned to the Duchess.
"Duchess," he said, "you see that my tapestries have already gone. Theyleft yesterday for Devenham Castle. I hope that you will find a placethere where you may hang them. They are a little older than your Frenchones, and time, as you may remember, has been kind to them. It mayinterest you to know that they were executed some thirteen hundred andfifty years ago, and are of a design which, alas, we borrowed from theChinese."
The Prince paused for a moment. All were trying to express their thanks,but no one was wholly successful. He waved their words gently aside.
"Lady Grace," he said, turning to the statuette of Buddha in a cornerof the room and taking from its neck a string of strange blue stones, "Iwill not ask you to wear these, for they have adorned the necks of idolsfor many centuries, but if you will keep them for my sake, they mayremind you sometimes of the color of our skies."
Once more he went to his writing table. From it he lifted, almostreverently, a small bronze figure,--the figure of a woman, stronglybuilt, almost squat, without grace, whose eyes and head and arms reachedupwards.
"Miss Penelope," he said, "to you I make my one worthless offering. Thisstatuette has no grace, no shapeliness, according to the canons of yourwonderful Western art. Yet for five generations of my family it has beenthe symbol of our lives. We are not idol worshippers in Japan, yet oneby one the men of my race have bent their knee before this figure andhave left their homes to fight for the thing which she represents. Sheis not beautiful, she does not stand for the joys and the great giftsof life, but she represents the country which to us stands side by sidewith our God, our parents, and our Emperor. Nothing in life has beendearer to me than this, Miss Penelope. To no other person would I partwith it."
She took it with a sudden hysterical sob, which seemed to ring out likea strange note upon the unnatural stillness of the room. And thenthere came a thing which happened before its time. The door was opened.Inspector Jacks came in. With him were Dr. Spencer Whiles and the manwho a few days ago had been discharged from St. Thomas' Hospital. Of thevery distinguished company who were gathered there, Inspector Jacks tooklittle notice. His eyes lit upon the form of the Prince, and he drewa sigh of relief. The door was closed behind him, and he saw no way bywhich he could be cheated of his victory. He took a step forward, andthe Prince advanced courteously, as though to meet him. The others, forthose few seconds, seemed as though they had lost the power of speech ormovement. Then before a word could be uttered by either the Inspector orthe Prince, the door was opened from the outside, and a man came runningin,--a man dressed in a shabby blue serge suit, dark and thin. He ranpast the Inspector and his companions, and he fell on his knees beforehis master.
"I confess!" he cried. "It was I who climbed on to the railway car! Itwas I who stabbed the American man in the tunnel and robbed him of hispapers! The others are innocent. Marki, who brought the car for me, knewnothing. Those who saw me return to this house knew nothing. No man wasmy confidant. I alone am guilty! I thought they could not discoverthe truth, but they have hunted me down. He is there--the doctor whobandaged my knee. I told him that it was a bicycle accident. Listen! Itwas I who killed the young American Vanderpole. I followed him fromthe Savoy Hotel. I dressed myself in the likeness of my master, and Ientered his taxi as a pleasant jest. Then I strangled him and I robbedhim too! He saw me--that man!" Soto cried, pointing to the youth whostood at the Inspector's left hand. "He was on his bicycle. He skiddedand fell through watching me. I told my master that I was in trouble,and he has tried to shield me, but he did not know the truth. If hehad, he would have given me over as I give myself now. What I did I didbecause I love Japan and because I hate America!"
His speech ended in a fit of breathlessness. He lay there, gasping. Thedoctor bent forward, looking at him first in perplexity and afterwardsin amazement. Then very slowly, and with the remnants of doubt still inhis tone, he answered Inspector Jacks' unspoken question.
"He is the image of the man who came to me that night," he declared. "Heis wearing the same clothes, too."
"What do you say?" the Inspector whispered hoarsely to the youth on hisother side. "Don't hurry. Look at him carefully."
The young man hesitated.
"He is the same height and figure as the man I saw enter the taxi," hesaid. "I believe that it is he."
Inspector Jacks stepped forward, but the Prince held out his hand.
"Wait!" he ordered, and his voice was sterner than any there had everheard him use. There was a fire in his eyes from which the man at hisfeet appeared to shrink.
"Soto," the Prince said, and he spoke in his own language, so that noperson in that room understood him save the one whom he addressed,--"whyhave you done this?"
The man lay there, resting now upon his side, and supporting himself bythe palm of his right hand. His upturned face seemed to have in it allthe passionate pleading of a dumb animal.
"Illustrious Prince," he answered, speaking also in his own tongue, "Idid it for Japan! Who are you to blame me, who have offered his own lifeso freely? I have no weight in the world. For you the future is big. Youwill go back to Japan, you will sit at the right hand of the Emperor.You will tell him of the follies and the wisdom of these strangecountries. You will guide him in difficulties. Your hand will beupon his as he writes across the sheets of time, for the glory of theMotherland. Banzai, illustrious Prince! I, too, am of the immortals!"
He suddenly collapsed. The doctor bent over him, but the Prince shookhis head slowly.
"It is useless," he said. "The man has confessed his crime. He has toldme the whole truth. He has taken poison."
Lady Grace began to cry softly. The air of the room seemed heavy withpent-up emotions. The Prince moved slowly toward the door and threw itopen. He turned towards them all.
"Will you leave me?" he asked. "I wish to be alone."
His eyes were like the eyes of a blind man.
One by one they left the room, Inspector Jacks amongst them. The onlyperson who spoke, even in the hall, was the Inspector.
"It was the Prince who brought the doctor here," he muttered. "He musthave known! At least he must have known!"
Mr. Haviland touched him on the arm.
"Inspector Jacks!" he whispered.
Inspector Jacks saluted.
"The murderer is dead," he continued, speaking still under his breath."Silence is a wonderful gift, Mr. Jacks. Sometimes its reward is greatereven than the reward of action."
They passed from the house, and once more its air of deep silence wasunbroken. The Prince stood in the middle of that strange room, whosefurnishings and atmosphere seemed, indeed, so marvellously reminiscentof some far distant land. He looked down upon the now lifeless figure,raised the still, white fingers in his for a moment, and laid themreverently down. Then his head went upward, and his eyes seemed to beseeking the heavens.
"So do the great die," he murmured. "Already the Gods of our fathers arecalling you Soto the Faithful. Banzai!"
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