THE ANSWER OF THE MIKADO
A week later, that is to say, on the 8th of February, 1904, I was in
Tokio.
The behavior of the Princess Y---- on hearing of the death of her
victim had been a strange mixture of heartlessness and hysterical
remorse.
At the first sound of the fatal shots, she came rushing to the scene
of the tragedy, and cast herself on the floor of the corridor beside
the dead man, seizing his hands, crying his name aloud, and weeping
frantically.
When I tried to raise her, so that the body might be removed, she
turned on me fiercely.
"This is your fault!" she cried. "Who are you, and how dared you
interfere with me?"
"As you see by my uniform, I am an inspector of police attached to
the Third Section."
She gazed at me searchingly for a moment, and then, lowering her
voice, and bringing her lips to my ear, she said with intense energy:
"It is a lie. I am here by the orders of the Minister himself, as you
must know well. You are acting against us, whoever you are."
"I am acting by order of the Czar," I responded.
She smiled scornfully.
"I expect that is another lie. You could not have got so far as you
have unless you had some one else behind you. Poor Nicholas!--Every
one knows what he is, and that he has less power than any other man
in Russia. Are you Witte's man, I wonder?"
"You are a bold woman to question me," I said. "How do you know that
I am not going to arrest you for stealing and destroying the Czar's
letter?"
"I should not remain long under arrest," was the significant answer.
She gave me another searching look, and muttered to herself, "If I
did not know that he was safe in the hands of my friends in
Petersburg I should think you must be a certain Monsieur ----"
She broke off without pronouncing my name, and turned away.
At Mukden, the next stopping place, the Princess Y---- left the
train, no doubt intending to travel back to Russia and report her
success.
In the meantime, I had reason to think she had notified her friends
in Manchuria to keep an eye on me.
All the way to Dalny I felt by that instinct which becomes second
nature to a man of my profession that I was under surveillance.
I detected a change in the manner of my friend the train
superintendent. My trifling luggage was carefully searched. In the
night when I was asleep some one went through my pockets. I was able
to see that even the contents of my cigarette case, which I had not
opened since leaving Petersburg, had been turned out and put back
again.
As the train neared Dalny I began to feel a little nervous. I had a
dread of being stopped on my way to embark on board the steampacket
which was still running to Tokio.
The train drew up at last, at the end of its five-thousand-mile-run,
and I stepped off it to the platform, carrying my valise in my hand.
The platform was literally swarming with spies, as it was easy for a
man of my experience to detect. I walked calmly through them to the
cab-stand, and hailed a droshky.
The driver, before starting off, exchanged a signal almost openly
with a stout man in plain clothes, who dogged me from the railway
carriage.
Presently I sighted the steamer, alongside the principal wharf, with
the smoke pouring out of its funnel, all ready to start.
The cabman whipped his horse and drove straight past the steamer.
"Where are you going?" I shouted.
"To the Custom House first; it is the regulation," was the answer.
Taking out my long neglected case, I placed a cigarette between my
lips, and asked the driver for some matches.
He passed me a wooden box. I struck several, but each went out in the
high wind before igniting the tobacco.
I was making another attempt as the droshky drew up outside the steps
of the Custom House. I dismounted negligently, while one of the
officials came and clutched my luggage. Then I walked slowly up the
steps, pausing in the porch to strike a fresh match.
A porter snatched the box from my hand. "Smoking is forbidden," he
said roughly. "Wait till you are out again."
I shrugged my shoulders, pinched the burning end of the cigarette,
which I retained in my mouth, and sauntered with an air of supreme
indifference after the man who was carrying my bag.
He led me into a room in which a severe-looking official was seated
at a desk.
"Your papers," he demanded.
I produced the papers with which I had been furnished by Rostoy.
The customs official scrutinized them, evidently in the hope of
discovering some flaw.
"On what business are you going to Tokio?" he demanded.
I smiled.
"Since when have the police of the Third Section been obliged to
render an account of themselves to the officers of the customs?" I
asked defiantly.
"How do I know that you are not a Japanese spy?"
I laughed heartily.
"You must be mad. How do I know that you are not a Nihilist?" I
retorted.
The customs officer turned pale. I saw that my chance shot had gone
home. The Russian imperial services are honeycombed by revolutionary
intrigues.
"Well, I shall detain your luggage for examination," he declared.
This time I pretended the greatest agitation. Of course, the more I
resisted the more he insisted. In the end he allowed me to depart
without my person being searched. The fact is I had convinced him
that he held an important prize in my worthless valise.
I was just in time to catch the steamer. As I crossed the gangway, a
man dressed like a coal-trimmer turned on me a last careful scrutiny,
and remarked,
"Your cigarette has gone out, Mister."
"Can you give me a light? Thank you!" I struck a match, drew a puff
of smoke, and handed him back the box. Then I walked on board, the
gangway was drawn in, and the Japanese steamer headed out to the open
sea.
On reaching Tokio I experienced some difficulty in obtaining an
audience of the Japanese ruler.
I was obliged to announce my name. It will hardly be believed, but
the chamberlain whom I had entrusted with the important secret,
brought back the answer that the Mikado had never heard of me!
"Tell his imperial majesty that there is no monarch of Europe, and
only two of Asia, who could say the same. I am here as the
confidential plenipotentiary of the Czar, with an autograph letter
addressed to the Mikado, and I respectfully ask leave to present it
in person."
Such a demand of course could not be refused. But even now the
haughty Japanese did not receive me in the privacy of his own
cabinet. On the contrary, I found myself introduced into the State
Council-Room, in which his majesty was seated at a table surrounded
by his chief advisers.
In particular I remarked the venerable Yamagata, conqueror of China,
and the round bullet-head of Oyama, the future overthrower of
Kuropatkin.
On the table was spread out a large map, or rather plan, of the
entire theater of war, including Manchuria, Korea, Japan and the seas
between. A man in naval uniform was standing beside the imperial
chair, with an expectant look on his face.
All eyes were turned upon me at my entrance. The Mikado beckoned to
me to approach him.
"Is it true that you bring me a letter from the Russian Emperor?" he
asked abruptly. "We have received information that such a letter was
on its way, but that the bearer was murdered on the Manchurian
railway four days ago."
"Your majesty's information is substantially correct," I answered.
"The messenger, a Colonel Menken, was seduced into parting with his
despatch, and committed suicide in consequence."
"Well, and what about yourself?"
"Foreseeing that the unscrupulous men who have been trying to force
on a war between his Russian majesty and your majesty would leave no
stone unturned to intercept this despatch, the Czar wrote a duplicate
with his own hand, which he entrusted to me, in the hope that I might
baffle the conspirators."
"Where is it?"
"I endeavored to conceal it by unstitching the front of the shirt I
am wearing, and sewing it up between the folds.
"Unfortunately I was drugged at a dinner party in Petersburg just
before starting. I was unconscious for an hour and a half, and I fear
that the opponents of peace have taken advantage of the opportunity
to find and rob me of the letter. But I will see, with your majesty's
permission."
The Mikado made no answer. Amid a breathless silence, with all the
room watching my movements, I tore open my shirt-front and extracted
a paper.
It was blank.
"So," commented the Japanese Emperor, sternly, "you have no such
credentials as you boasted of having."
"Pardon me, sire. Anticipating that the War Party would suspect the
object of my mission, and would resort to some such step to defeat
it, I purposely provided them with a document to steal, believing
that when they had robbed me of it they would allow me to proceed
unmolested. My real credentials are here."
I drew out my cigarette case, found the partially smoked cigarette I
had had in my mouth when I ran the gauntlet of the spies at Dalny,
and proceeded to cut off the paper. On the inner surface these words
were written in the hand of the Czar:
The bearer of this, M. V----, has my full confidence, and
is authorized to settle conditions of peace.
NICHOLAS.
As I respectfully placed the scrap of paper, with its charred edges,
in the Mikado's hand, I was conscious of a profound sensation in the
room. Aged statesmen and brilliant commanders bent eagerly across
the table to learn the character of the message thus strangely
brought to its destination.
His majesty read the brief note aloud. It was received with a murmur,
not entirely of satisfaction I was surprised to note.
Seeing that the Mikado made no remark, I ventured to say:
"I hope that the extreme character of the measures adopted by the
Czar to assure your majesty of his peaceful sentiments will have the
effect of convincing you that they are genuine."
The Emperor of Japan glanced around his council board as if to
satisfy himself that he and his advisers were of one mind before
replying:
"I appreciate the zeal and the extraordinary skill with which you
have carried out your mission. I regret that I cannot give you a
favorable answer to take back to your nation."
I was thunderstruck at this exordium. Slightly raising his voice, the
Mikado went on:
"Tell the Emperor of Russia that I do not distrust his sincerity, but
I distrust his power. The monarch who cannot send a letter through
his dominions in safety; who has to resort to stratagems and
precautions like these to overcome the opposition of his own
subjects, is not the ruler of his empire.
"Why, sir, do you suppose that if I had a message to send to my
brother in St. Petersburg I should have to stoop to arts like these?
That any subject of mine would dare to plot against me, to seduce my
messengers, to drug and rob them? Incredible! The tale you have told
me completely confirms everything I and my advisers have already
heard with regard to the Russian Government. It is a ship without a
captain, on which the helm is fought for and seized by different
hands in turn. To-day the real rulers of Russia are the men who are
bent on war--and who, while we are talking, have actually begun the
war!"
I gazed around the Council-Room, unable to believe my ears.
"Yes," the stern sovereign continued, "while you, sir, were entering
the Inland Sea, charged with this offer of peace"--his majesty tossed
the precious piece of paper on the table with a look of disdain--"a
Russian gunboat, the _Korietz_, was firing the first shot of the war
at one of my squadrons off Chemulpo."
The glances directed by those present at the naval officer behind the
imperial chair convinced me that he had just brought the fatal news
to the Council.
"And now," added the Mikado, "I will give my reply to the real
masters of Russia--to the directors of the _Korietz_."
He nodded to the naval officer, who walked across the floor to a box
on the wall like a telephone receiver, and pressed a button.
"That," his majesty explained, "is the signal for a flotilla of
torpedo boats to enter the harbor of Port Arthur and blow up the
Russian fleet."
I think a faint cry of remonstrance or misgiving must have escaped
me. The Japanese monarch frowned, and his voice took a still sterner
ring.
"Go back to your unfortunate master, and tell him that when he can
send me a public envoy, in the light of day, to ask for peace, and to
undertake the fulfilment of the pledges which his Ministers have
broken, I will grant his request."