International relations -- Fiction; Liaoyang, Battle of, Liaoyang, China, 1904 -- Fiction; War correspondents -- Fiction
She could not stay longer at the Imperial, which had become a sort
of civilian war headquarters. All was war in its corridors. In the
_Minimasacuma-cho_ of the _Shiba_ district, she took a small house,
establishing herself in the native style, but she could not escape the
agony. Japan was burning with war-lust from end to end; whetted of
tooth, talon-fingered, blood-mad. Her fighting force, one of the most
formidable masses that ever formed on the planet’s curve, was landing
in Korea and Liaotung. What meant the battle of the Yalu to her; the
tragedy of the _Petropavlovsk_, sunk off the tip of the fortress
with Makaroff, the great Verestchagin, and five hundred officers and
men? Not a distant calamity of foreign powers, but _Tyrone_--_Shubar
Khan_--_Cardinegh_--_madness_--_treachery_. What meant the constant
tension of Tokyo, singing in her ears like wires stretched tight--like
the high-pitched, blood-hungry song of insects in the night? It meant
the work of her own blood, her own accursed heritage.... She was called
to the Imperial often for the mails, but she avoided the Englishmen
there, and admitted none to the little house in Shiba. Always, when
there were white men about, she fancied a whispering behind her; as,
indeed, there was--the whispers that are incited by the passing of an
exquisite woman.
In the early days following her father’s death, Noreen was besieged by
men who appeared suddenly, quietly--men unknown in Japan--who demanded
with seeming authority all the documents in her father’s effects which
pertained to the treachery in India. These were agents of the great
British secret service--men of mystery to all save those who threatened
England’s inner wall. Noreen gave all that they asked, convinced them
of her sincerity. They impressed upon her the needs of utter secrecy,
and assured her that the name of Routledge was being purified to the
farthest ends of the service. It was intimated, however, that this
would require much time; as, indeed, it had to fix the crime upon him.
These men worked but little with cables and mails.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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