The eighth month had arrived, bringing chill nights and clear, invigorating days. Through a sunny hilltop meadow of waving golden grasses, Sano strolled with Dr. Huygens. The autumn wind breathed a scent of frost and wood fires. Birds soared in the crystalline blue sky, lamenting summer’s end with plaintive cries. Patches of scarlet, ocher, and brown wove through the green tapestry of the forests. The barbarian wore his black hat and cloak; he carried a large round basket. Nearby hovered the ten guards designated to escort the doctor on his official twice-yearly search for medicinal plants.

Stooping, Huygens picked a vine and whispered so the guards wouldn’t hear him speak Japanese: “Good for burns.” He smiled at Sano, putting the plant in his basket.

Sano tossed in a handful of the mint often prescribed by Japanese doctors. “Good for stomachache,” he told Huygens.

In quiet harmony, they combed the meadow for remedies, exchanging medical lore. Fifteen days had passed since the raid on the Chinese temple. The morning after, Sano had gone to Deshima to inform the surviving Dutchmen of deGraeff’s death and to apologize to Dr. Huygens for wrongly suspecting him of murder. Later he and Supreme Judge Takeda had replaced the entire Deshima security staff with trustworthy men culled through intensive interviewing and evaluation of service records and character references. While Sano regretted the inevitable loss of crucial links in the Dutch-Japanese information network, he guessed that it would soon flourish again, though hopefully without violence. When his work was done, Sano, leery of more treason charges, had refrained from meeting Dr. Huygens again—until today.

Far below them lay the city, tranquil in the bright sunlight. The troops had left the streets; the war drums had ceased their call of doom. On the harbor’s sparkling water floated a stately ship whose sail bore the Tokugawa crest. It had arrived yesterday, bearing a message from Edo: When the shōgun had discovered Sano’s absence, he’d overruled Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s orders, commanding Sano to return home at once. Newly secure in Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s favor, knowing he would leave Nagasaki today, Sano had risked a last visit with his barbarian friend.

Dr. Huygens picked a mantis off a blade of grass and put it in a glass vial. “Take back to Amsterdam; show other doctors,” he said.

He pantomimed viewing the creature through the magnifying device, and they laughed at the memory of Sano’s encounter with barbarian science. As they hunted more specimens, Sano’s gaze wandered down the harbor channel, where he saw the Dutch ship anchored beside the rocky outcrop of Takayama. Sails furled, dwarfed by the distance, it now seemed as harmless as a child’s toy.