Suddenly Takishima rose to go. “Don’t let me disturb you,” he begged politely. “My admiral, on whose staff I am, has already gone, so I must follow.” He shook hands affectionately with his classmates. “I am sure you and Mr. Impey will have plenty to talk about,” he added. “Mr. Impey is very much interested in war-ships.” Phil believed he detected that Impey started imperceptibly at Takishima’s words; but nothing he had said seemed to Phil to be of significance. He welcomed an opportunity to talk with this man and perhaps surprise him into that which would betray him. They watched Takishima walk briskly away, his small dirk, the Samurai emblem of honor, jingling at his side. “Nice chap that,” Impey said quietly. “He’s the Minister of Marine’s right hand aide.” They had all risen to bid Takishima good-bye, and now found themselves once more on the gravel walk of the path. “Come,” Impey exclaimed as he led the way. “It’s not often we barbarians get a glimpse within the royal enclosure, so we must make the most of it while we can.” Robert Impey knew when to be silent. While the midshipmen were conversing with their classmate he had listened discreetly; but now he displayed the conversational art which had lifted him from an humble accountant in a Chinese bank to a position of wealth and influence. What his position was Phil and Sydney as yet had no knowledge. He described to them the objects of artistic interest about them, and after a quarter of an hour’s intimate talk even Phil had almost changed his mind and felt that such a delightful personage could hardly be a two-faced rogue. They had exhausted the beauties of nature but were still strolling through the gardens when a group of Japanese army and naval officers came suddenly around a turn in the path. The midshipmen’s eyes noted their erect carriages, their breasts covered with medals, commemorating deeds of valor accomplished in two wars. The Americans saluted, and their brothers in service stepped aside politely, bowing low in their own fashion. Impey doffed his silk hat, and greeted one of their number by name, advancing to take his outstretched hand. In a second the group had passed onward. “That was Captain Inaba, one of the brightest men in the Japanese navy,” he added as he joined the midshipmen, who had strolled ahead slowly during the short interruption. “He is the man your navy will have to be careful of in case of war. I dare say he has fought it all out and could tell you just where the battles will be and who will win.” “You talk as if war were an accomplished fact,” Phil blurted out; the idea of the identity of Impey with the “man in the next compartment” was again strong in his mind. “I see no reason why my country and Japan should go to war. Certainly we don’t want a war with anybody, least of all Japan, whom we have helped to become one of the great world powers.”