"Well, I s'pose it's the order, then?" said Jack, gloomily. "I'll bet, though, it's nothin' more'n a 'Jap,' even if we do heave to."
Jack lost no time in putting the men to work, and, as usual, when he went at it in earnest the thing was soon done. The little three-master was brought to, not far distant from the floating drift, which now plainly disclosed the form of a man. The excitement began to grow intense, and Jack's ponderous voice could have been heard for miles around as he and two trustys jumped into the lifeboat and yelled:
"Swing to the davits and let go your blocks!" Thereafter no time was lost in getting the shipwrecked man on board, and in applying the necessary restoratives; though it was some time before Shibusawa fully recovered consciousness, and when he did so they were again under full sail for Port Blakely, Washington.
Shibusawa's being washed overboard left Okyo a helpless and penniless victim. For nearly two days he managed to escape being burned alive in the firebox, by the angry stoker, who was now determined to rid himself of the fruitless charge. Through fright and exposure and hunger he had become so nearly dumb that when discovered and questioned he could say nothing but "mum is the word." Then he was taken on deck and offered food and water, and as a matter of safety placed in the guard house, where he remained until the ship landed at Shanghai.
Here he was detained until an opportunity came to return him to his native land, and when he had finally arrived in Tokyo, some two months later, he was still unable to make any explanation of his condition or experiences. Maido tried by every means to elicit some word from him that might throw light upon the whereabouts or safety of his son. All his efforts were of no avail, and the only thing possible for Okyo to say was:
Okyo's hapless predicament--which led Maido to think it possible that his son had met a like fate, or even a worse one--wore heavily upon the already overburdened daimyo. Since the landing of Commodore Perry's fleet, matters of state were becoming more and more strained. Every day brought new charges and counter charges of the one party against the other. Contrary to Ikamon's promises the literati had not been quelled, but were again fast gaining strength throughout the south, and even the mikado himself was becoming not averse to listening to their bitter complaints, if not to their proposed radical changes. Though Maido was becoming sick at heart and weak of purpose he could not, much as he desired to do so, extricate himself from the tangled net that dragged at the home or in the state. Old tactics and new sorrows were little calculated to bring him that peace of mind and ease of heart to which he had all his life looked forward, and Shibusawa's absence had come to be not only the source of deepest regret but the cause of nervous, restless anxiety.