YUKI (_crosses to veranda_). Friends come not in the wilderness. The great white mountain, sacred though it be, I weary of it! Much would I give to hear the sound of feet on honorable path. (_Steps onto veranda._)
TOTMAI. Do excellent eyes see honorable visitors, O Yuki?
YUKI. From the threshold I see only great lofty head of Fuzi--from the village there are sounds of music. O Totmai and O Haru (_takes Japanese umbrella_), let us forth to the spreading garden to hear honorable laughter. There is no need to be gloomy and sad, for the sun shines--and the gods hear prayers! Come! [EXEUNT _all by veranda._
ENTER _LADY CECIL L., followed by MISS PRENDERGAST._
MISS P. (_gasping_). Cecil, how can you be so lamentably, foolishly rash? People have been thrown into prison for bribing sentries. You walk in here as if you were the Mikado-ess of Japan! I knew that we should not escape without some grievous trouble. Come away! (_Pulls CECIL, who looks around inquisitively._) Come away before they see us and it is _too late_!
CECIL. Dear G., don’t you like exploring expeditions? No? I remember, you prefer excavations. Didn’t Professor Anstruther discourse eternally on the excavation of antiquities? Think what a lovely day we have had! I contemplate taking my dear little rickshaw man and his carriage back to London to be the sensation when we go home.
MISS P. (_sighing_). To England? We shall never see our native land again--and you promised that we should be at home in time for the Sales!
CECIL. So I did, but you wouldn’t like to leave poor Arthur lamenting alone, searching for the lost heiress? The Princess has left the Palace. She would have interested the Emperor for him. I must know if the villagers speak the truth and she is here. G., don’t you think things assume a darkly tragic air?
MISS P. Dark and tragic, indeed! _It is exactly what I have predicted!_ Ar--his lordship has offended, I feel sure he has offended innocently, and those horrid little policemen, looking as if they had come out of a pantomime or a box of toys, will take him off to prison. Then (_tearfully_) it will be your turn, through your headstrong folly. Cecil, I implore you not to look out from there--and I--in my old--ahem!--in the prime of life, will have to accompany you!