“Tell him that Ito Saburo wishes to see him.”
The woman seemed satisfied, for the door slid open, and Ito entered. Without waiting he mounted the steps, and opening a sho ji, stepped into a room, dimly lit by a rushlight placed in a paper lantern. Ito fell on his knees, and saluted in the usual manner, which salute was returned by the owner of the room, a man of Ito’s age, but of more slender build.
The two men had not met for two years; for Ito had been ordered to remain at the Choshiu yashiki in Yedo, and Inouye’s duties had kept him at Nagato. But they had corresponded by every courier carrying letters to and from the capital, for they had been friends ever since they were little boys. Yet when they met after such a long absence, there was no glad “Helloh!” with a hearty clasp of the hand, as we would meet an old friend. Pleased as they were to see each other again, they had been taught that good breeding demands that gentlemen should always show courtesy and respect to others of their own rank. Certain sentences must be uttered before any ordinary conversation can begin. Therefore Ito said:
“I was very rude the last time we met, but I hope you have forgiven me.”
“No,” replied Inouye, “it was I who was rude, and I pray you to overlook it.”
It is needless to say that neither of them had really been rude, but custom demanded that this should be said, and the same custom prevails in Japan to-day. We think that it is foolish, and the Japanese think us very rude, because we do not obey that custom.
After these customs had been observed, the two friends sat down, and Ito said:
“Has any progress been made in your studies of the barbarian nations?”
“Nothing worth boasting. I have been twice to Nagasaki to try if I could pick up some of the books of the Hollanders, but the Tokugawa officers will not permit any stranger to approach the island of Deshima, unless they are bribed with more money than I possess. Still, I have learned enough to know that Japan is not in a condition to fight the barbarians, and I am afraid, I think, that the regent was right in submitting to their demands.”
“I do not think so,” replied Ito. “Right! What right has the Tokuwaga to sell an inch of Japan’s soil. It does not belong to them. It is the property of Tenshi Sama, if it belongs to anybody. It makes me angry to think that we can no longer boast that