When the mikado's envoy returned with Hitotsubashi's promise all Kyoto had gone wild. Every preparation had been made for his gala entrance into the capital and for his welcome at the mikado's palace. A million yens had been set aside to defray the cost and Saigo sent into the south to marshall a force wherewithal to meet the shogun's coming in the height of gorgeous display. The day had been fixed upon for Hitotsubashi's friendly arrival, and no thought of war entered their minds. Thus they found themselves relaxed and unprepared upon receipt of advance news that the shogun hastily approached with a powerful army under the command of the invincible Tetsutaisho, and in consequence their very existence seemed threatened. There was no time now to reach Saigo; he had gone far away into the southland. The force left in front of the gates at Kyoto formed scarcely a bodyguard, and at last the combination had been brought face to face with the perils of active warfare. Yet there appeared an alternative, and it was Takara who advanced its proposal. The council had met in closed session, and had now become no less than a storm of indecision. Shibusawa chanced to be absent, and Kido, alone and unsupported, was unable to quell the tumult in a disorganised and frantic chamber. Amidst this frenzy the doors opened and the mikado's daughter entered. A hush came over them, for never before had a woman dared enter there. It had been the business of men, and since the days of Jingo their council remained barred to the presence of women. They ceased quarrelling and stared intently. She hastened forward, first addressing Kido, then the assembly: "Honourable chairman, and men of the council, hold your tongues! There is need of a better work." Not a voice was raised against her; she had gained their attention. Kido, only, ventured to speak, asking her to proceed. "Would you sit here inert, while the enemy beat down your doors? Falter in the hour of need? Ignore the help that is within reach?" "No, no, no!" came from everywhere around her. "Then I implore you to act," said she, resolutely. "But who is there? Where is our defence?" said a voice in front. "Shibusawa!" A stillness came over them. They had not thought of him--their minds did not go beyond their own little sphere. Possibly Kido had thought as deeply, but the time had not come for him to speak. Takara had now robbed him of the privilege, and every man there shouted himself hoarse with applause. It was thenceforth Shibusawa who could and would save them; drafting a formal request Takara in the absence of a dissenting voice was chosen the trusted messenger.