The Illustrious Prince

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER XXVI. SOME FAREWELLS

  Never did Prince Maiyo show fewer signs of his Japanese origin thanwhen in the company of other men of his own race. Side by side with HisExcellency the Baron Hesho, the contrasts in feature and expressionwere so marked as to make it hard, indeed, to believe that these two mencould belong to the same nation. The Baron Hesho had high cheekbones, ayellow skin, close-cropped black hair, and wore gold-rimmed spectaclesthrough which he beamed upon the whole world. The Prince, as he loungedin his wicker chair and watched the blue smoke of his cigarette curlupwards, looked more like an Italian--perhaps a Spaniard. The shape ofhis head was perfectly Western, perfectly and typically Romanesque. Thecarriage of his body must have been inherited from his mother, of whomit was said that no more graceful woman ever walked. Yet betweenthese two men, so different in all externals, there was the strongestsympathy, although they met but seldom.

  "So we are to lose you soon, Prince," the Baron was saying.

  "Very soon indeed," Prince Maiyo answered. "Next week I go down toDevenham. I understand that the Prime Minister and Sir EdwardBransome will be there. If so, that, I think, will be practically myleave-taking. There is no object in my staying any longer over here."

  The Baron blinked his eyes meditatively.

  "I have seen very little of you, Maiyo," he said, "since your last visitto the Continent. I take it that your views are unchanged?"

  The Prince assented.

  "Unchanged indeed," he answered,--"unchangeable, I think almost thatI might now say. They have been wonderful months, these last months,Baron," he continued. "I have seen some of those things which we inJapan have heard about and wondered about all our lives. I have seenthe German army at manoeuvres. I have talked to their officers. WhereI could, I have talked to the men. I have been to some of their greatsocialist meetings. I have heard them talk about their country and theirEmperor, and what would happen to their officers if war should come. Ihave seen the French artillery. I have been the guest of the President.I have tried to understand the peculiar attitude which that country hasalways adopted toward us. I have been, unrecognized, in St. Petersburg.I have tried to understand a little the resources of that marvellouscountry. I came back here in time for the great review in the Solent.I have seen the most magnificent ships and the most splendid navaldiscipline the world has ever known. Then I have explored the interiorof this island as few of our race have explored it before, not forthe purpose of studying the manufactures, the trades, the immenseshipbuilding industries,--simply to study the people themselves."

  The Baron nodded gravely.

  "I ask no questions," he said. "It is the Emperor's desire, I know, thatyou go straight to him. I take it that your mind is made up,--you havearrived at definite conclusions?"

  "Absolutely." Prince Maiyo answered. "I shall make no great secret ofthem. You already, my dear Baron, know, I think, whither they lead. Ishall be unpopular for a time, I suppose, and your own position may bemade a little difficult. After that, things will go on pretty much thesame. Of one thing, though, I am assured. I see it as clearly as theshepherd who has lain the night upon the hillside sees the coming day.It may be twelve months, it may be two years, it may even be three, butbefore that time has passed the clouds will have gathered, the stormwill have burst. Then, I think, Hesho, our master will be glad that weare free."

  The Baron agreed.

  "Only a few nights ago," he said, "Captain Koki and the other attachesspent an evening with me. We have charts and pieces, and with lockeddoors we played a war game of our own invention. It should all be overin three weeks."

  Prince Maiyo laughed softly.

  "You are right," he said. "I have gone over the ground myself. It couldbe done in even less time. You should ask a few of our friends to thatwar game, Baron. How they would smile! You read the newspapers of thecountry?"

  "Invariably," the Ambassador answered.

  "There is an undercurrent of feeling somewhere," the Princecontinued,--"one of the cheaper organs is shrieking all the time abrazen warning. Patriotism, as you and I understand it, dear friend, islong since dead, but if one strikes hard enough at the flint, some firemay come. Hesho, how short our life is! How little we can understand!We have only the written words of those who have gone before, to show usthe cities and the empires that have been, to teach us the reasons whythey decayed and crumbled away. We have only our own imagination to helpus to look forward into the future and see the empires that may rise,the kingdoms that shall stand, the kingdoms that shall fall. Amongstthem all, Hesho, there is but this much of truth. It is our own dearcountry and our one great rival across the Pacific who, in the years tocome, must fight for the supremacy of the world."

  "It will be no fight, that," the Ambassador answered slowly,--"no fightunless a new prophet is born to them. The money-poison is sucking thevery blood from their body. The country is slowly but surely becominghoney-combed with corruption. The voices of its children are like thevoices from the tower of Babel. If their strong man should arise, thenthe fight will be the fiercest the world has ever known. Even then theend is not doubtful. The victory will be ours. When the universe is leftfor them and for us, it will be our sons who shall rule. Listen, Maiyo."

  "I listen," the Prince answered.

  The Baron Hesho had laid aside his spectacles. He leaned a littletowards his companion. His voice had fallen to a whisper, his hand fellalmost caressingly upon his friend's shoulder.

  "I would speak of something else," he continued. "Soon you go to theDuke's house. You will meet there the people who are in authority overthis country. When you leave it, everything is finished. Tell me, is theway homeward safe for you?"

  "Wonderful person!" Prince Maiyo said, smiling.

  "No, I am not wonderful," the Ambassador declared. "All the time I havehad my fears. Why not? A month ago I sought your aid. I knew from ourfriends in New York that a man was on his way to England with letterswhich made clear, beyond a doubt, the purpose of this world journeyof the American fleet. I sent for you. We both agreed that it was anabsolute necessity for us to know the contents of those letters."

  "We discovered them," the Prince answered. "It was well that we did."

  "You discovered them," the Ambassador interrupted. "I have taken nocredit for it. The credit is yours. But in this land there are somany things which one may not do. The bowstring and the knife areunrecognized. Civilization has set an unwholesome value upon human life.It is the maudlin sentiment which creeps like corruption through thebody of a dying country."

  "I know it," the Prince declared, sighing. "I know it very well indeed."

  "Dear Maiyo," the Ambassador asked, "how well do you know it?"

  "My friend," the Prince answered, "it were better for you not to askthat question."

  "Here under this roof," the Baron continued, "is sanctuary, but in thestreets and squares beyond, it seems to me--and I have thought this overmany times,--it seems to me that even the person of the great Prince,cousin of the Emperor, holy son of Japan, would not be safe."

  Prince Maiyo shrugged his shoulders. There was gravity in his face, butit was the gravity of a man who has learnt to look upon serious thingswith a light heart.

  "I, also," he said, "have weighed this matter very carefully in my mind.What I did was well done, and if the bill is thrust into my face, I mustpay. First of all, Baron, I promise you that I shall finish my work.After that, what does it matter? You and I know better than this nationof life-loving shopkeepers. A week, a year, a span of years,--of whataccount are they to us who have sipped ever so lightly at the great cup?If we died tomorrow for the glory of our country, should we not say toone another, you and I, that it was well?"

  The Baron rose to his feet and bowed. Into his voice there had crept anote almost of reverence.

  "Prince," he said, "almost you take me back to the one mother country.Almost your words persuade me that the strangeness of these Westernlands is a passing thing. We wonder, and as we wonder they shall crumble
away. The sun rises in the East."

  The Prince also rose. Servants came silently forward, bearing his hatand gloves.

  "Perhaps," the Prince smiled, as he made his adieux--

  "Perhaps," the Ambassador echoed. "Who can tell?"

  The Prince sent away his carriage and walked homeward, greeting everynow and then an acquaintance. He walked cheerfully and with a smile uponhis face. There was nothing in his appearance which could possibly haveindicated to the closest observer that this was a man who had takendeath by the hand. At the corner of Regent Street and Pall Mall heovertook Inspector Jacks. He leaned forward at once and touched thedetective on the shoulder.

  "Mr. Jacks," he said, "it is pleasant to see you once more. I was afraidthat I should have to leave without bidding you farewell."

  The Inspector started. The Prince laughed to himself as he watched thatgesture. Indeed, a man who showed his feelings so easily would be verymuch at a loss in Tokio!

  "You are going away, Prince?" the Inspector asked quickly. "When?"

  "The exact day is not fixed," the Prince replied, "but it is true thatI am going home. I have finished my work, and, you see, there is nothingto keep me over here any longer. Tell me, have you had any fortune yet?I read the papers every day, hoping to see that you have cleared upthose two terrible affairs."

  Inspector Jacks shook his head.

  "Not yet, Prince," he said.

  "Not yet," the Prince echoed. "Dear me, that is very unfortunate!"

  Inspector Jacks watched the people who were passing, for a moment, witha fixed, unseeing gaze.

  "I am afraid," he said, "that we must seem to you very slow and verystupid. Very likely we are. And yet, yet in time we generally reach ourgoal. Sometimes we go a long way round. Sometimes we wait almost overlong, but sooner or later we strike."

  The Prince nodded sympathetically.

  "The best of fortune to you, Mr. Jacks!" he said. "I wish you could havecleared these matters up before I left for home. It is pure selfishness,of course, but I have always felt a great interest in your work."

  "If we do not clear them up before you leave the country, Prince," theInspector answered, "I fear that we shall never clear them up at all."

  The Prince passed on smiling. A conversation with Inspector Jacksseemed always to inspire him. It was a fine afternoon and Pall Mallwas crowded. In a few moments he came face to face with Somerfield, whogreeted him a little gloomily.

  "Sir Charles," the Prince said, "I hope that I shall have the pleasureof meeting you at Devenham?"

  "I am not sure," Somerfield answered. "I have been asked, but I promisedsome time ago to go up to Scotland. I have a third share in a riverthere, and the season for salmon is getting on."

  "I am sorry," the Prince declared. "I have no doubt, however, but thatMiss Morse will induce you to change your mind. I should regret yourabsence the more," he continued, "because this, I fear, is the lastvisit which I shall be paying in this country."

  Somerfield was genuinely interested.

  "You are really going home?" he asked eagerly.

  "Almost at once," the Prince answered.

  "Only for a time, I suppose?" Somerfield continued.

  The Prince shook his head.

  "On the contrary," he said, "I imagine that this will be a long goodbye.I think I can promise you that if ever I reach Japan I shall remainthere. My work in this hemisphere will be accomplished."

  Somerfield looked at him with the puzzled air of a man who is face toface with a problem which he cannot solve.

  "You'll forgive my putting it so plainly, Prince," he remarked, "butdo you mean to say that after having lived over here you could possiblysettle down again in Japan?"

  The Prince returned for a moment his companion's perplexed gaze. Thenhis lips parted, his eyes shone. He laughed softly, gracefully, withgenuine mirth.

  "Sir Charles," he said, "I shall not forget that question. I think thatof all the Englishmen whom I have met you are the most English of all.When I think of your great country, as I often shall do, of her sons andher daughters, I will promise you that to me you shall always representthe typical man of your race and fortune."

  The Prince left his companion loitering along Pall Mall, still a littlepuzzled. He called a taxi and drove to Devenham House. The great drawingrooms were almost empty. Lady Grace was just saying goodbye to someparting guests. She welcomed the Prince with a little flush of pleasure.

  "I find you alone?" he remarked.

  "My mother is opening a bazaar somewhere," Lady Grace said. "She will behome very soon. Do let me give you some tea."

  "It is my excuse for coming," the Prince admitted.

  She called back the footman who had shown him in.

  "China tea, very weak, in a china teapot with lemon and no sugar. Isn'tthat it?" she asked, smiling.

  "Lady Grace," he declared, "you spoil me. Perhaps it is because I amgoing away. Every one is kind to the people who go away."

  She looked at him anxiously.

  "Going away!" she exclaimed. "When? Do you mean back to Japan?"

  "Back to my own country," he answered. "Perhaps in two weeks, perhapsthree--who can tell?"

  "But you are coming to Devenham first?" she asked eagerly.

  "I am coming to Devenham first," he assented. "I called this afternoonto let your father know the date on which I could come. I promised thathe should hear from me today. He was good enough to say either Thursdayor Friday. Thursday, I find, will suit me admirably."

  She drew a little sigh.

  "So you are going back," she said softly. "I wonder why so many peopleseem to have taken it for granted that you would settle down here. EvenI had begun to hope so."

  He smiled.

  "Lady Grace," he said, "I am not what you call a cosmopolitan. To liveover here in any of these Western countries would seem to denote thatone may change one's dwelling place as easily as one changes one'sclothes. The further east you go, the more reluctant one is, I think,to leave the shadow of one's own trees. The man who leaves my countryleaves it to go into exile. The man who returns, returns home."

  She was a little perplexed.

  "I should have imagined," she said, "that the people who leave yourcountry as emigrants to settle in American or even over here might havefelt like that. But you of the educated classes I should have thoughtwould have found more over here to attract you, more to induce you tochoose a new home."

  He shook his head.

  "Lady Grace," he said, "believe me that is not so. The traditions of ourrace--the call of the blood, as you put it over here--is as powerful athing with our aristocratics as with our peasants. We find much here towonder at and admire, much that, however unwillingly, we are forced totake back and adopt in our own country, but it is a strange atmospherefor us, this. For my country-people there is but one real home, but onemotherland."

  "Yet you have seemed so contented over here," she remarked. "You haveentered so easily into all our ways."

  He set down his teacup and smiled at her for a moment gravely.

  "I came with a purpose," he said. "I came in order to observe and tostudy certain features of your life, but, believe me, I have felt thestrain--I have felt it sometimes very badly. These countries, yoursespecially, are like what one of your great poets called the Lotus-Landsfor us. Much of your life here is given to pursuits which we do notunderstand, to sports and games, to various forms of what we should callidleness. In my country we know little of that. In one way or another,from the Emperor to the poor runner in the streets, we work."

  "Is there nothing which you will regret?" she asked.

  "I shall regret the friends I have made,--the very dear friends," herepeated, "who have been so very much kinder to me than I have deserved.Life is a sad pilgrimage sometimes, because one may not linger for amoment at any one spot, nor may one ever look back. But I know quitewell that when I leave here there will be many whom I would gladly seeagain."

  "There will be many, Prince," she sai
d softly, "who will be sorry to seeyou go."

  The Prince rose to his feet. Another little stream of callers had comeinto the room. Presently he drank his tea and departed. When hereached St. James' Square, his majordomo came hurrying up and whisperedsomething in his own language.

  The Prince smiled.

  "I go to see him," he said. "I will go at once."