Tokyo Bay by Anthony Grey

begun to rise angrily, augmenting the atmosphere of tension.
‘Every foreign ship that has tried to come peacefully into a Japanese harbour in recent years has been boarded without ceremony, Lieutenant,’ said Armstrong mildly, still watching the boat below them with intent eyes. ‘Their officers have been jostled and humiliated, and permission to land has invariably been refused. We don’t want to experience that again, do we?’
‘Customs men of every nation inspect all incoming ships: replied Eden equally mildly. ‘The Japanese can justifiably claim they have every right to come on board. .
‘There’s some logic in what you say - ’ began Armstrong then broke off suddenly on seeing the Japanese interpreter in the guard-boat stand up again.
When he waved an arm to attract attention, Armstrong leaned out of the entry port.
‘We have a suggestion: cried Ha ni wara, again speaking in Dutch. ‘The American High Lord of the Interior should appoint a subordinate aide of equal rank to receive the Vice-Governor of Uraga. .
Armstrong hesitated, cocking his head thoughtfully, as though considering this proposal. Then he nodded exaggeratedly. ‘I will go to consult with our Most High Lord about your request. I will return soon with his response.’
With a flourish the missionary turned away and took several long, quick paces which carried him out of sight of the Japanese below. Then he stopped, pulled a gold watch on a chain from a waistcoat pocket, and consulted it. After returning the watch to its place, he moved back against the bulwark beside Eden, taking care to remain concealed.
‘As we correctly anticipated they have asked that an official be allowed on board and speak with a subordinate of our “Most High Lord of the Interior”.’ Armstrong smiled confidingly. ‘That’s how I have referred to the commodore so far in our exchanges - it’s terminology they understand. And I’ve told them I will go and consult with “His Eminence”. As I thi n k you already know, the flag lieutenant has been deputed to conduct any low-level negotiations - and he has chosen you as his chief bodyguard. This delay of a few minutes is purely ceremonial.’
Armstrong checked his watch elaborately once more and Eden glanced along the bulwark at his own armed gunners, who were still drawn up at battle stations. Their swarthy faces re m ained alert as they watched the seething boats below though some glanced anxiously towards Eden and the interpreter, trying to comprehend what was happening.
‘When their vice-governor comes up our ladder:
mused Armstrong, ‘he’ll be the first Japanese official ever to set foot on American “territory”, don’t you see? And it will be on American terms. So, at long last, we will have put a stop to the insolence with which Japan has always treated foreigners.’
‘But under the threat of force: inte r jected Eden evenly. ‘And coming uninvited - as intruders.’
Armstrong looked hard at the young lieutenant, noticing his high-set cheekbones and his dark, watchful eyes. ‘Your family history has perhaps given you a natural sympathy for those you see as underdogs,’ said the missionary gently. ‘And I’d like you to know how much I admire that - ’
‘I wasn’t seeking your admiration,’ snapped Eden, his eyes suddenly ablaze. ‘Perhaps we should drop this subject . .
‘Don’t misunderstand me, Lieutenant.’ The missionary laid a calming hand on his arm. ‘Such independence of mind is rare in a young navy officer. But don’t forget all this isn’t one - sided. We’re offering the Japanese a fair and equal basis for negotiation.’
He checked his watch again, then tucked it away in his waistcoat pocket. Straightening himself he took several quick steps forward so that he arrived before the entry port looking as though he had just hurried there from a distance. Leaning out once more, he waved towards the Japanese interpreter in the guard - boat.
‘It has been decided that your