Maido had not long to wait, though the time seemed never to pass. It was the first word received from his son, for Shibusawa knew the danger of even attempting to communicate with either his parent or Kinsan. During all these years he knew not what effect his departure had wrought at home, nor of the fortunes of those whom he had left behind. Still he had always hoped for the best, and when he had definitely made up his mind to return he so managed to forward the letter of advice as to bring it safely to Maido's hand; arriving, as it happened, only a few days after Takara had been seized and carried away by the ronin, and none too early, for Shibusawa himself came soon thereafter.
To avoid possible compromise Shibusawa had couched the letter in such terms that no one but a father could be the wiser for its contents; therefore no dates were fixed, and the anxious daimyo had only to wait, and for hours sat watching the gate in front. These were suspicious times at Tokyo, hence no preparations could be made for the home-coming, nor information given out, save Maido's instructions to the faithful Okyo. Thereafter no arrival escaped that one's vigilant eye, and when the expected ship had safely arrived at Yokohama he was there on hand with an extra pilgrim's outfit on his back.
Late the next evening they two reached home, and Shibusawa, footsore and weary, hurried up the pathway and into the house, where he bowed low at his father's feet. Neither attempted to speak. When Shibusawa had changed his clothing they sat in the cool of the evening, for it was now late in June, enjoying the breeze that floated in from the bay in the distance. The family brazier was again brought out, and they sat and smoked and talked the hours away.
"And now, father," said the son, after they had talked much about the family and things at home, "you must lie down and sleep, and to-morrow I shall tell you all about myself. I know you are anxious to hear, but you must rest now, and then the story will be the more pleasing. You need have no fear but you shall hear it all--I am returned, and I promise I shall not soon again leave you. Goodnight, and peace for you."
They had no sooner parted and the father gone to sleep than Shibusawa hastened to change his dress and once again find his way to the hidden cave. The time seemed long to him since he had last been there, and now that he was about to go again he felt that he never would get started. Just why he wanted to hurry there he did not know; possibly he had not consulted reason; yet it was his only hope, and that was enough to impel him to go.