One of the three attendant officers then came forward, bearing a tray, on which, wrapped in paper, lay the dirk. This he handed with a bow to the condemned man, who received it, reverently raising it to his head, and placed it in front of himself. After another profound obeisance, the condemned man, in a voice of some emotion, and with just so much hesitation as would be natural to a man about to make a disagreeable confession, but with no sign of fear, said, “I, and I alone, unwarrantably gave the order to fire on the foreigners at Corvé as they tried to escape. For this crime I disembowel myself. And I beg you who are here present to do me the honour of witnessing the act.” After delivering this speech, he allowed his upper garments to slip down to his girdle--carefully, according to custom, tucking his sleeves under his knees, that he might die as a Samarai should, falling forward. Deliberately, with a steady hand, he took the dirk that lay before him. For a few seconds he seemed to collect his thoughts, and then stabbing himself deeply below the waist on the left side, he drew the dirk slowly to the right. As the dirk reached the right side, he gave a slight cut upwards, and then lent forwards, stretching out his head. An expression of pain for the first time crossed his face, and the Kaishaku, who had been keenly watching every motion, sprang to his legs, and poising his sword in the air for a second, with one stroke severed the head from the body, during a dead silence. The Kaishaku having wiped his sword, bowed solemnly to the witnesses and removed the dirk as a proof of the death of Taki Zingaburo, aged thirty-two. Ito Shumski and the other representatives of the Mikado left their places, and advancing to where the foreigners sat, called on them to witness that the execution had been faithfully performed. The ceremony, to which the place and the hour gave a most solemn effect, was characterised by that extreme dignity and punctiliousness which are the distinctive marks of a Japanese gentleman of rank, and it is not unimportant to note this fact, because it carries with it the conviction that the dead man was the officer who committed the crime and not a substitute. I am happy to think that Captain Stanhope did what he could to save this man’s life, but he was in a minority. This execution was soon followed by a frightful tragedy. At Hong Kong, on March 23, I received a letter from Captain Stanhope of the _Ocean_ off Osaka, informing me that on the 8th the French corvette _Dupleix_ had sent her steam launch, accompanied by her whale-boat, to Sakai, a small town about six miles on the Hiogo side of Osaka, to wait there for Captain Roy of the _Venus_, and the French Consul. The steam launch had been lying some time alongside the wharf, and the townspeople had come down and been very civil to the crew. After a while, at about 5 P.M., the engineer and coxswain of the launch asked the midshipman’s permission to go up for a stroll.