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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16310-8.txt b/16310-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3feb19 --- /dev/null +++ b/16310-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4722 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cinderella, by Richard Harding Davis + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cinderella + And Other Stories + +Author: Richard Harding Davis + +Release Date: July 16, 2005 [EBook #16310] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CINDERELLA *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Janet Blenkinship, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "He looked beyond, through the dying fire, into the +succeeding years."] + +CINDERELLA + +AND OTHER STORIES + + +BY + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS + + +NEW YORK + +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +1896 + +_Copyright, 1896,_ + +By Charles Scribner's Sons. + + + +*** _The stories in this volume have appeared in Scribner's Magazine, +Harper's Magazine, Weekly, and Young People; and "The Reporter who Made +Himself King" also in a volume, the rest of which, however, addressed +itself to younger readers._ + + +University Press: + +JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + Page +Cinderella 1 +Miss Delamar's Understudy 36 +The Editor's Story 76 +An Assisted Emigrant 105 +The Reporter who Made Himself King 119 + + + + +CINDERELLA + + +The servants of the Hotel Salisbury, which is so called because it is +situated on Broadway and conducted on the American plan by a man named +Riggs, had agreed upon a date for their annual ball and volunteer +concert, and had announced that it would eclipse every other annual ball +in the history of the hotel. As the Hotel Salisbury had been only two +years in existence, this was not an idle boast, and it had the effect of +inducing many people to buy the tickets, which sold at a dollar apiece, +and were good for "one gent and a lady," and entitled the bearer to a +hat-check without extra charge. + +In the flutter of preparation all ranks were temporarily levelled, and +social barriers taken down with the mutual consent of those separated by +them; the night-clerk so far unbent as to personally request the colored +hall-boy Number Eight to play a banjo solo at the concert, which was to +fill in the pauses between the dances, and the chambermaids timidly +consulted with the lady telegraph operator and the lady in charge of the +telephone, as to whether or not they intended to wear hats. + +And so every employee on every floor of the hotel was working +individually for the success of the ball, from the engineers in charge +of the electric light plant in the cellar, to the night-watchman on the +ninth story, and the elevator-boys who belonged to no floor in +particular. + +Miss Celestine Terrell, who was Mrs. Grahame West in private life, and +young Grahame West, who played the part opposite to hers in the Gilbert +and Sullivan Opera that was then in the third month of its New York run, +were among the honored patrons of the Hotel Salisbury. Miss Terrell, in +her utter inability to adjust the American coinage to English standards, +and also in the kindness of her heart, had given too generous tips to +all of the hotel waiters, and some of this money had passed into the +gallery window of the Broadway Theatre, where the hotel waiters had +heard her sing and seen her dance, and had failed to recognize her +young husband in the Lord Chancellor's wig and black silk court dress. +So they knew that she was a celebrated personage, and they urged the +_maître d'hôtel_ to invite her to the ball, and then persuade her to +take a part in their volunteer concert. + +Paul, the head-waiter, or "Pierrot," as Grahame West called him, because +it was shorter, as he explained, hovered over the two young English +people one night at supper, and served them lavishly with his own hands. + +"Miss Terrell," said Paul, nervously,--"I beg pardon, Madam, Mrs. +Grahame West, I should say,--I would like to make an invitation to you." + +Celestine looked at her husband inquiringly, and bowed her head for Paul +to continue. + +"The employees of the Salisbury give the annual ball and concert on the +sixteenth of December, and the committee have inquired and requested of +me, on account of your kindness, to ask you would you be so polite as to +sing a little song for us at the night of our ball?" + +The head-waiter drew a long breath and straightened himself with a +sense of relief at having done his part, whether the Grahame Wests did +theirs or not. + +As a rule, Miss Terrell did not sing in private, and had only broken +this rule twice, when the inducements which led her to do so were forty +pounds for each performance, and the fact that her beloved Princess of +Wales was to be present. So she hesitated for an instant. + +"Why, you are very good," she said, doubtfully. "Will there be any other +people there,--any one not an employee, I mean?" + +Paul misunderstood her and became a servant again. + +"No, I am afraid there will be only the employees, Madam," he said. + +"Oh, then, I should be very glad to come," murmured Celestine, sweetly. +"But I never sing out of the theatre, so you mustn't mind if it is not +good." + +The head-waiter played a violent tattoo on the back of the chair in his +delight, and balanced and bowed. + +"Ah, we are very proud and pleased that we can induce Madam to make so +great exceptions," he declared. "The committee will be most happy. We +will send a carriage for Madam, and a bouquet for Madam also," he added +grandly, as one who was not to be denied the etiquette to which he +plainly showed he was used. + + * * * * * + +"Will we come?" cried Van Bibber, incredulously, as he and Travers sat +watching Grahame make up in his dressing-room. "I should say we would +come. And you must all take supper with us first, and we will get Letty +Chamberlain from the Gaiety Company and Lester to come too, and make +them each do a turn." + +"And we can dance on the floor ourselves, can't we?" asked Grahame West, +"as they do at home Christmas-eve in the servants' hall, when her +ladyship dances in the same set with the butler and the men waltz with +the cook." + +"Well, over here," said Van Bibber, "you'll have to be careful that +you're properly presented to the cook first, or she'll appeal to the +floor committee and have you thrown out." + +"The interesting thing about that ball," said Travers, as he and Van +Bibber walked home that night, "is the fact that those hotel people are +getting a galaxy of stars to amuse them for nothing who wouldn't exhibit +themselves at a Fifth Avenue dance for all the money in Wall Street. And +the joke of it is going to be that the servants will vastly prefer the +banjo solo by hall-boy Number Eight." + +Lyric Hall lies just this side of the Forty-second Street station along +the line of the Sixth Avenue Elevated road, and you can look into its +windows from the passing train. It was after one o'clock when the +invited guests and their friends pushed open the storm-doors and were +recognized by the anxious committee-men who were taking tickets at the +top of the stairs. The committee-men fled in different directions, +shouting for Mr. Paul, and Mr. Paul arrived beaming with delight and +moisture, and presented a huge bouquet to Mrs. West, and welcomed her +friends with hospitable warmth. + +Mrs. West and Miss Chamberlain took off their hats and the men gave up +their coats, not without misgivings, to a sleepy young man who said +pleasantly, as he dragged them into the coat-room window, "that they +would be playing in great luck if they ever saw them again." + +"I don't need to give you no checks," he explained: "just ask for the +coats with real fur on 'em. Nobody else has any." + +There was a balcony overhanging the floor, and the invited guests were +escorted to it, and given seats where they could look down upon the +dancers below, and the committee-men, in dangling badges with edges of +silver fringe, stood behind their chairs and poured out champagne for +them lavishly, and tore up the wine-check which the barkeeper brought +with it, with princely hospitality. + +The entrance of the invited guests created but small interest, and +neither the beauty of the two English girls nor Lester's well-known +features, which smiled from shop-windows and on every ash-barrel in the +New York streets, aroused any particular comment. The employees were +much more occupied with the Lancers then in progress, and with the +joyful actions of one of their number who was playing blind-man's-buff +with himself, and swaying from set to set in search of his partner, who +had given him up as hopeless and retired to the supper-room for crackers +and beer. + +Some of the ladies wore bonnets, and others wore flowers in their hair, +and a half-dozen were in gowns which were obviously intended for dancing +and nothing else. But none of them were in _décolleté_ gowns. A few wore +gloves. They had copied the fashions of their richer sisters with the +intuitive taste of the American girl of their class, and they waltzed +quite as well as the ladies whose dresses they copied, and many of them +were exceedingly pretty. The costumes of the gentlemen varied from the +clothes they wore nightly when waiting on the table, to cutaway coats +with white satin ties, and the regular blue and brass-buttoned uniform +of the hotel. + +"I am going to dance," said Van Bibber, "if Mr. Pierrot will present me +to one of the ladies." + +Paul introduced him to a lady in a white cheese-cloth dress and black +walking-shoes, with whom no one else would dance, and the musicians +struck up "The Band Played On," and they launched out upon a slippery +floor. + +Van Bibber was conscious that his friends were applauding him in dumb +show from the balcony, and when his partner asked who they were, he +repudiated them altogether, and said he could not imagine, but that he +guessed from their bad manners they were professional entertainers hired +for the evening. + +The music stopped abruptly, and as he saw Mrs. West leaving the balcony, +he knew that his turn had come, and as she passed him he applauded her +vociferously, and as no one else applauded even slightly, she grew very +red. + +Her friends knew that they formed the audience which she dreaded, and +she knew that they were rejoicing in her embarrassment, which the head +of the downstairs department, as Mr. Paul described him, increased to an +hysterical point by introducing her as "Miss Ellen Terry, the great +English actress, who would now oblige with a song." + +The man had seen the name of the wonderful English actress on the +bill-boards in front of Abbey's Theatre, and he had been told that Miss +Terrell was English, and confused the two names. As he passed Van +Bibber he drew his waistcoat into shape with a proud shrug of his +shoulders, and said, anxiously, "I gave your friend a good introduction, +anyway, didn't I?" + +"You did, indeed," Van Bibber answered. "You couldn't have surprised her +more; and it made a great hit with me, too." + +No one in the room listened to the singing. The gentlemen had crossed +their legs comfortably and were expressing their regret to their +partners that so much time was wasted in sandwiching songs between the +waltzes, and the ladies were engaged in criticizing Celestine's hair, +which she wore in a bun. They thought that it might be English, but it +certainly was not their idea of good style. + +Celestine was conscious of the fact that her husband and Lester were +hanging far over the balcony, holding their hands to their eyes as +though they were opera-glasses, and exclaiming with admiration and +delight; and when she had finished the first verse, they pretended to +think that the song was over, and shouted, "Bravo, encore," and +applauded frantically, and then apparently overcome with confusion at +their mistake, sank back entirely from sight. + +"I think Miss Terrell's an elegant singer," Van Bibber's partner said to +him. "I seen her at the hotel frequently. She has such a pleasant way +with her, quite lady-like. She's the only actress I ever saw that has +retained her timidity. She acts as though she were shy, don't she?" + +Van Bibber, who had spent a month on the Thames the summer before, with +the Grahame Wests, surveyed Celestine with sudden interest, as though he +had never seen her before until that moment, and agreed that she did +look shy, one might almost say frightened to death. Mrs. West rushed +through the second verse of the song, bowed breathlessly, and ran down +the steps of the stage and back to the refuge of the balcony, while the +audience applauded with perfunctory politeness and called clamorously to +the musicians to "Let her go!" + +"And that is the song," commented Van Bibber, "that gets six encores and +three calls every night on Broadway!" + +Grahame West affected to be greatly chagrined at his wife's failure to +charm the chambermaids and porters with her little love-song, and when +his turn came, he left them with alacrity, assuring them that they would +now see the difference, as he would sing a song better suited to their +level. + +But the song that had charmed London and captured the unprotected coast +town of New York, fell on heedless ears; and except the evil ones in the +gallery, no one laughed and no one listened, and Lester declared with +tears in his eyes that he would not go through such an ordeal for the +receipts of an Actors' Fund Benefit. + +Van Bibber's partner caught him laughing at Grahame West's vain efforts +to amuse, and said, tolerantly, that Mr. West was certainly comical, but +that she had a lady friend with her who could recite pieces which were +that comic that you'd die of laughing. She presented her friend to Van +Bibber, and he said he hoped that they were going to hear her recite, as +laughing must be a pleasant death. But the young lady explained that she +had had the misfortune to lose her only brother that summer, and that +she had given up everything but dancing in consequence. She said she did +not think it looked right to see a girl in mourning recite comic +monologues. + +Van Bibber struggled to be sympathetic, and asked what her brother had +died of? She told him that "he died of a Thursday," and the conversation +came to an embarrassing pause. + +Van Bibber's partner had another friend in a gray corduroy waistcoat and +tan shoes, who was of Hebraic appearance. He also wore several very fine +rings, and officiated with what was certainly religious tolerance at the +M.E. Bethel Church. She said he was an elegant or--gan--ist, putting the +emphasis on the second syllable, which made Van Bibber think that she +was speaking of some religious body to which he belonged. But the +organist made his profession clear by explaining that the committee had +just invited him to oblige the company with a solo on the piano, but +that he had been hitting the champagne so hard that he doubted if he +could tell the keys from the pedals, and he added that if they'd excuse +him he would go to sleep, which he immediately did with his head on the +shoulder of the lady recitationist, who tactfully tried not to notice +that he was there. + +They were all waltzing again, and as Van Bibber guided his partner for +a second time around the room, he noticed a particularly handsome girl +in a walking-dress, who was doing some sort of a fancy step with a +solemn, grave-faced young man in the hotel livery. They seemed by their +manner to know each other very well, and they had apparently practised +the step that they were doing often before. + +The girl was much taller than the man, and was superior to him in every +way. Her movements were freer and less conscious, and she carried her +head and shoulders as though she had never bent them above a broom. Her +complexion was soft and her hair of the finest, deepest auburn. Among +all the girls upon the floor she was the most remarkable, even if her +dancing had not immediately distinguished her. + +The step which she and her partner were exhibiting was one that probably +had been taught her by a professor of dancing at some East Side academy, +at the rate of fifty cents per hour, and which she no doubt believed was +the latest step danced in the gilded halls of the Few Hundred. In this +waltz the two dancers held each other's hands, and the man swung his +partner behind him, and then would turn and take up the step with her +where they had dropped it; or they swung around and around each other +several times, as people do in fancy skating, and sometimes he spun her +so quickly one way that the skirt of her walking-dress was wound as +tightly around her legs and ankles as a cord around a top, and then as +he swung her in the opposite direction, it unwound again, and wrapped +about her from the other side. They varied this when it pleased them +with balancings and steps and posturings that were not sufficiently +extravagant to bring any comment from the other dancers, but which were +so full of grace and feeling for time and rhythm, that Van Bibber +continually reversed his partner so that he might not for an instant +lose sight of the girl with auburn hair. + +"She is a very remarkable dancer," he said at last, apologetically. "Do +you know who she is?" + +His partner had observed his interest with increasing disapproval, and +she smiled triumphantly now at the chance that his question gave her. + +"She is the seventh floor chambermaid," she said. "I," she added in a +tone which marked the social superiority, "am a checker and marker." + +"Really?" said Van Bibber, with a polite accent of proper awe. + +He decided that he must see more of this Cinderella of the Hotel +Salisbury; and dropping his partner by the side of the lady +recitationist, he bowed his thanks and hurried to the gallery for a +better view. + +When he reached it he found his professional friends hanging over the +railing, watching every movement which the girl made with an intense and +unaffected interest. + +"Have you noticed that girl with red hair?" he asked, as he pulled up a +chair beside them. + +But they only nodded and kept their eyes fastened on the opening in the +crowd through which she had disappeared. + +"There she is," Grahame West cried excitedly, as the girl swept out from +the mass of dancers into the clear space. "Now you can see what I mean, +Celestine," he said. "Where he turns her like that. We could do it in +the shadow-dance in the second act. It's very pretty. She lets go his +right hand and then he swings her and balances backward until she takes +up the step again, when she faces him. It is very simple and very +effective. Isn't it, George?" + +Lester nodded and said, "Yes, very. She's a born dancer. You can teach +people steps, but you can't teach them to be graceful." + +"She reminds me of Sylvia Grey," said Miss Chamberlain. "There's nothing +violent about it, or faked, is there? It's just the poetry of motion, +without any tricks." + +Lester, who was a trick dancer himself, and Grahame West, who was one of +the best eccentric dancers in England, assented to this cheerfully. + +Van Bibber listened to the comments of the authorities and smiled +grimly. The contrast which their lives presented to that of the young +girl whom they praised so highly, struck him as being most interesting. +Here were two men who had made comic dances a profound and serious +study, and the two women who had lifted dancing to the plane of a fine +art, all envying and complimenting a girl who was doing for her own +pleasure that which was to them hard work and a livelihood. But while +they were going back the next day to be applauded and petted and praised +by a friendly public, she was to fly like Cinderella, to take up her +sweeping and dusting and the making of beds, and the answering of +peremptory summonses from electric buttons. + +"A good teacher could make her worth one hundred dollars a week in six +lessons," said Lester, dispassionately. "I'd be willing to make her an +offer myself, if I hadn't too many dancers in the piece already." + +"A hundred dollars--that's twenty pounds," said Mrs. Grahame West. "You +do pay such prices over here! But I quite agree that she is very +graceful; and she is so unconscious, too, isn't she?" + +The interest in Cinderella ceased when the waltzing stopped, and the +attention of those in the gallery was riveted with equal intensity upon +Miss Chamberlain and Travers who had faced each other in a quadrille, +Miss Chamberlain having accepted the assistant barkeeper for a partner, +while Travers contented himself with a tall, elderly female, who in +business hours had entire charge of the linen department. The barkeeper +was a melancholy man with a dyed mustache, and when he asked the English +dancer from what hotel she came, and she, thinking he meant at what +hotel was she stopping, told him, he said that that was a slow place, +and that if she would let him know when she had her night off, he would +be pleased to meet her at the Twenty-third station of the Sixth Avenue +road on the uptown side, and would take her to the theatre, for which, +he explained, he was able to obtain tickets for nothing, as so many men +gave him their return checks for drinks. + +Miss Chamberlain told him in return, that she just doted on the theatre, +and promised to meet him the very next evening. She sent him anonymously +instead two seats in the front row for her performance. She had much +delight the next night in watching his countenance when, after arriving +somewhat late and cross, he recognized the radiant beauty on the stage +as the young person with whom he had condescended to dance. + +When the quadrille was over she introduced him to Travers, and Travers +told him he mixed drinks at the Knickerbocker Club, and that his +greatest work was a Van Bibber cocktail. And when the barkeeper asked +for the recipe and promised to "push it along," Travers told him he +never made it twice the same, as it depended entirely on his mood. + +Mrs. Grahame West and Lester were scandalized at the conduct of these +two young people and ordered the party home, and as the dance was +growing somewhat noisy and the gentlemen were smoking as they danced, +the invited guests made their bows to Mr. Paul and went out into cold, +silent streets, followed by the thanks and compliments of seven +bare-headed and swaying committee-men. + +The next week Lester went on the road with his comic opera company; the +Grahame Wests sailed to England, Letty Chamberlain and the other "Gee +Gees," as Travers called the Gayety Girls, departed for Chicago, and +Travers and Van Bibber were left alone. + + * * * * * + +The annual ball was a month in the past, when Van Bibber found Travers +at breakfast at their club, and dropped into a chair beside him with a +sigh of weariness and indecision. + +"What's the trouble? Have some breakfast?" said Travers, cheerfully. + +"Thank you, no," said Van Bibber, gazing at his friend doubtfully; "I +want to ask you what you think of this. Do you remember that girl at +that servants' ball?" + +"Which girl?--Tall girl with red hair--did fancy dance? Yes--why?" + +"Well, I've been thinking about her lately," said Van Bibber, "and what +they said of her dancing. It seems to me that if it's as good as they +thought it was, the girl ought to be told of it and encouraged. They +evidently meant what they said. It wasn't as though they were talking +about her to her relatives and had to say something pleasant. Lester +thought she could make a hundred dollars a week if she had had six +lessons. Well, six lessons wouldn't cost much, not more than ten dollars +at the most, and a hundred a week for an original outlay of ten is a +good investment." + +Travers nodded his head in assent, and whacked an egg viciously with his +spoon. "What's your scheme?" he said. "Is your idea to help the lady for +her own sake--sort of a philanthropic snap--or as a speculation? We +might make it pay as a speculation. You see nobody knows about her +except you and me. We might form her into a sort of stock company and +teach her to dance, and secure her engagements and then take our +commission out of her salary. Is that what you were thinking of doing?" + +"No, that was not my idea," said Van Bibber, smiling. "I hadn't any +plan. I just thought I'd go down to that hotel and tell her that in the +opinion of the four people best qualified to know what good dancing is, +she is a good dancer, and then leave the rest to her. She must have some +friends or relations who would help her to take a start. If it's true +that she can make a hit as a dancer, it seems a pity that she shouldn't +know it, doesn't it? If she succeeded, she'd make a pot of money, and if +she failed she'd be just where she is now." + +Travers considered this subject deeply, with knit brows. + +"That's so," he said. "I'll tell you what let's do. Let's go see some of +the managers of those continuous performance places, and tell them we +have a dark horse that the Grahame Wests and Letty Chamberlain herself +and George Lester think is the coming dancer of the age, and ask them to +give her a chance. And we'll make some sort of a contract with them. We +ought to fix it so that she is to get bigger money the longer they keep +her in the bill, have her salary on a rising scale. Come on," he +exclaimed, warming to the idea. "Let's go now. What have you got to do?" + +"I've got nothing better to do than just that," Van Bibber declared, +briskly. + +The managers whom they interviewed were interested but non-committal. +They agreed that the girl must be a remarkable dancer indeed to warrant +such praise from such authorities, but they wanted to see her and judge +for themselves, and they asked to be given her address, which the +impresarios refused to disclose. But they secured from the managers the +names of several men who taught fancy dancing, and who prepared +aspirants for the vaudeville stage, and having obtained from them their +prices and their opinion as to how long a time would be required to give +the finishing touches to a dancer already accomplished in the art, they +directed their steps to the Hotel Salisbury. + +"'From the Seventh Story to the Stage,'" said Travers. "She will make +very good newspaper paragraphs, won't she? 'The New American Dancer, +endorsed by Celestine Terrell, Letty Chamberlain, and Cortlandt Van +Bibber.' And we could get her outside engagements to dance at studios +and evening parties after her regular performance, couldn't we?" he +continued. "She ought to ask from fifty to a hundred dollars a night. +With her regular salary that would average about three hundred and fifty +a week. She is probably making three dollars a week now, and eats in the +servants' hall." + +"And then we will send her abroad," interrupted Van Bibber, taking up +the tale, "and she will do the music halls in London. If she plays three +halls a night, say one on the Surrey Side, and Islington, and a smart +West End hall like the Empire or the Alhambra, at fifteen guineas a +turn, that would bring her in five hundred and twenty-five dollars a +week. And then she would go to the Folies Bergère in Paris, and finally +to Petersburg and Milan, and then come back to dance in the Grand Opera +season, under Gus Harris, with a great international reputation, and +hung with flowers and medals and diamond sun-bursts and things." + +"Rather," said Travers, shaking his head enthusiastically. "And after +that we must invent a new dance for her, with colored lights and +mechanical snaps and things, and have it patented; and finally she will +get her picture on soda-cracker boxes and cigarette advertisements, and +have a race-horse named after her, and give testimonials for nerve +tonics and soap. Does fame reach farther than that?" + +"I think not," said Van Bibber, "unless they give her name to a new make +of bicycle. We must give her a new name, anyway, and rechristen her, +whatever her name may be. We'll call her Cinderella--La Cinderella. That +sounds fine, doesn't it, even if it is rather long for the very largest +type." + +"It isn't much longer than Carmencita," suggested the other. "And people +who have the proud knowledge of knowing her like you and me will call +her 'Cinders' for short. And when we read of her dancing before the Czar +of All the Russias, and leading the ballet at the Grand Opera House in +Paris, we'll say, 'that is our handiwork,' and we will feel that we have +not lived in vain." + + * * * * * + +"Seventh floor, please," said Van Bibber to the elevator boy. + +The elevator boy was a young man of serious demeanor, with a +smooth-shaven face and a square, determined jaw. There was something +about him which seemed familiar, but Van Bibber could not determine just +what it was. The elevator stopped to allow some people to leave it at +the second floor, and as the young man shoved the door to again, Van +Bibber asked him if he happened to know of a chambermaid with red hair, +a tall girl on the seventh floor, a girl who danced very well. + +The wire rope of the elevator slipped less rapidly through the hands of +the young man who controlled it, and he turned and fixed his eyes with +sudden interest on Van Bibber's face, and scrutinized him and his +companion with serious consideration. + +"Yes, I know her--I know who you mean, anyway," he said. "Why?" + +"Why?" echoed Van Bibber, raising his eyes. "We wish to see her on a +matter of business. Can you tell me her name?" + +The elevator was running so slowly now that its movement upward was +barely perceptible. + +"Her name's Annie--Annie Crehan. Excuse me," said the young man, +doubtfully, "ain't you the young fellows who came to our ball with that +English lady, the one that sung?" + +"Yes," Van Bibber assented, pleasantly. "We were there. That's where +I've seen you before. You were there too, weren't you?" + +"Me and Annie was dancing together most all the evening. I seen all +youse watching her." + +"Of course," exclaimed Van Bibber. "I remember you now. Oh, then you +must know her quite well. Maybe you can help us. We want to put her on +the stage." + +The elevator came to a stop with an abrupt jerk, and the young man +shoved his hands behind him, and leaned back against one of the mirrors +in its side. + +"On the stage," he repeated. "Why?" + +Van Bibber smiled and shrugged his shoulders in some embarrassment at +this peremptory challenge. But there was nothing in the young man's tone +or manner that could give offence. He seemed much in earnest, and spoke +as though they must understand that he had some right to question. + +"Why? Because of her dancing. She is a very remarkable dancer. All of +those actors with us that night said so. You must know that yourself +better than any one else, since you can dance with her. She could make +quite a fortune as a dancer, and we have persuaded several managers to +promise to give her a trial. And if she needs money to pay for lessons, +or to buy the proper dresses and slippers and things, we are willing to +give it to her, or to lend it to her, if she would like that better." + +"Why?" repeated the young man, immovably. His manner was not +encouraging. + +"Why--what?" interrupted Travers, with growing impatience. + +"Why are you willing to give her money? You don't know her." + +Van Bibber looked at Travers, and Travers smiled in some annoyance. The +electric bell rang violently from different floors, but the young man +did not heed it. He had halted the elevator between two landings, and he +now seated himself on the velvet cushions and crossed one leg over the +other, as though for a protracted debate. Travers gazed about him in +humorous apprehension, as though alarmed at the position in which he +found himself, hung as it were between the earth and sky. + +"I swear I am an unarmed man," he said, in a whisper. + +"Our intentions are well meant, I assure you," said Van Bibber, with an +amused smile. "The girl is working ten hours a day for very little +money, isn't she? You know she is, when she could make a great deal of +money by working half as hard. We have some influence with theatrical +people, and we meant merely to put her in the way of bettering her +position, and to give her the chance to do something which she can do +better than many others, while almost any one, I take it, can sweep and +make beds. If she were properly managed, she could become a great +dancer, and delight thousands of people--add to the gayety of nations, +as it were. She's hardly doing that now, is she? Have you any +objections to that? What right have you to make objections, anyway?" + +The young man regarded the two young gentlemen before him with a dogged +countenance, but there was now in his eyes a look of helplessness and of +great disquietude. + +"We're engaged to be married, Annie and me," he said. "That's it." + +"Oh," exclaimed Van Bibber, "I beg your pardon. That's different. Well, +in that case, you can help us very much, if you wish. We leave it +entirely with you!" + +"I don't want that you should leave it with me," said the young man, +harshly. "I don't want to have nothing to do with it. Annie can speak +for herself. I knew it was coming to this," he said, leaning forward and +clasping his hands together, "or something like this. I've never felt +dead sure of Annie, never once. I always knew something would happen." + +"Why, nothing has happened," said Van Bibber, soothingly. "You would +both benefit by it. We would be as willing to help two as one. You would +both be better off." + +The young man raised his head and stared at Van Bibber reprovingly. + +"You know better than that," he said. "You know what I'd look like. Of +course she could make money as a dancer, I've known that for some time, +but she hasn't thought of it yet, and she'd never have thought of it +herself. But the question isn't me or what I want. It's Annie. Is she +going to be happier or not, that's the question. And I'm telling you +that she couldn't be any happier than she is now. I know that, too. +We're just as contented as two folks ever was. We've been saving for +three months, and buying furniture from the instalment people, and next +month we were going to move into a flat on Seventh Avenue, quite handy +to the hotel. If she goes onto the stage could she be any happier? And +if you're honest in saying you're thinking of the two of us--I ask you +where would I come in? I'll be pulling this wire rope and she'll be all +over the country, and her friends won't be my friends and her ways won't +be my ways. She'll get out of reach of me in a week, and I won't be in +it. I'm not the sort to go loafing round while my wife supports me, +carrying her satchel for her. And there's nothing I can do but just +this. She'd come back here some day and live in the front floor suite, +and I'd pull her up and down in this elevator. That's what will happen. +Here's what you two gentlemen are doing." The young man leaned forward +eagerly. "You're offering a change to two people that are as well off +now as they ever hope to be, and they're contented. We don't know +nothin' better. Now, are you dead sure that you're giving us something +better than what we've got? You can't make me any happier than I am, and +as far as Annie knows, up to now, she couldn't be better fixed, and no +one could care for her more. + +"My God! gentlemen," he cried, desperately, "think! She's all I've got. +There's lots of dancers, but she's not a dancer to me, she's just Annie. +I don't want her to delight the gayety of nations. I want her for +myself. Maybe I'm selfish, but I can't help that. She's mine, and you're +trying to take her away from me. Suppose she was your girl, and some one +was sneaking her away from you. You'd try to stop it, wouldn't you, if +she was all you had?" He stopped breathlessly and stared alternately +from one to the other of the young men before him. Their countenances +showed an expression of well-bred concern. + +"It's for you to judge," he went on, helplessly; "if you want to take +the responsibility, well and good, that's for you to say. I'm not +stopping you, but she's all I've got." + +The young man stopped, and there was a pause while he eyed them eagerly. +The elevator bell rang out again with vicious indignation. + +Travers struck at the toe of his boot with his stick and straightened +his shoulders. + +"I think you're extremely selfish, if you ask me," he said. + +The young man stood up quickly and took his elevator rope in both hands. +"All right," he said, quietly, "that settles it. I'll take you up to +Annie now, and you can arrange it with her. I'm not standing in her +way." + +"Hold on," protested Van Bibber and Travers in a breath. "Don't be in +such a hurry," growled Travers. + +The young man stood immovable, with his hands on the wire and looking +down on them, his face full of doubt and distress. + +"I don't want to stand in Annie's way," he repeated, as though to +himself. "I'll do whatever you say. I'll take you to the seventh floor +or I'll drop you to the street. It's up to you, gentlemen," he added, +helplessly, and turning his back to them threw his arm against the wall +of the elevator and buried his face upon it. + +There was an embarrassing pause, during which Van Bibber scowled at +himself in the mirror opposite as though to ask it what a man who looked +like that should do under such trying circumstances. + +He turned at last and stared at Travers. "'Where ignorance is bliss, +it's folly to be wise,'" he whispered, keeping his face toward his +friend. "What do you say? Personally I don't see myself in the part of +Providence. It's the case of the poor man and his one ewe lamb, isn't +it?" + +"We don't want his ewe lamb, do we?" growled Travers. "It's a case of +the dog in a manger, I say. I thought we were going to be fairy +godfathers to 'La Cinderella.'" + +"The lady seems to be supplied with a most determined godfather as it +is," returned Van Bibber. + +The elevator boy raised his face and stared at them with haggard eyes. + +"Well?" he begged. + +Van Bibber smiled upon him reassuringly, with a look partly of respect +and partly of pity. + +"You can drop us to the street," he said. + + + + +MISS DELAMAR'S UNDERSTUDY + + +A young man runs two chances of marrying the wrong woman. He marries her +because she is beautiful, and because he persuades himself that every +other lovable attribute must be associated with such beauty, or because +she is in love with him. If this latter is the case, she gives certain +values to what he thinks and to what he says which no other woman gives, +and so he observes to himself, "This is the woman who best understands +_me_." + +You can reverse this and say that young women run the same risks, but as +men are seldom beautiful, the first danger is eliminated. Women still +marry men, however, because they are loved by them, and in time the +woman grows to depend upon this love and to need it, and is not content +without it, and so she consents to marry the man for no other reason +than because he cares for her. For if a dog, even, runs up to you +wagging his tail and acting as though he were glad to see you, you pat +him on the head and say, "What a nice dog." You like him because he +likes you, and not because he belongs to a fine breed of animal and +could take blue ribbons at bench shows. + +This is the story of a young man who was in love with a beautiful woman, +and who allowed her beauty to compensate him for many other things. When +she failed to understand what he said to her he smiled and looked at her +and forgave her at once, and when she began to grow uninteresting, he +would take up his hat and go away, and so he never knew how very +uninteresting she might possibly be if she were given time enough in +which to demonstrate the fact. He never considered that, were he married +to her, he could not take up his hat and go away when she became +uninteresting, and that her remarks, which were not brilliant, could not +be smiled away either. They would rise up and greet him every morning, +and would be the last thing he would hear at night. + +Miss Delamar's beauty was so conspicuous that to pretend not to notice +it was more foolish than well-bred. You got along more easily and simply +by accepting it at once, and referring to it, and enjoying its effect +upon other people. To go out of one's way to talk of other things when +every one, even Miss Delamar herself, knew what must be uppermost in +your mind, always seemed as absurd as to strain a point in politeness, +and to pretend not to notice that a guest had upset his claret, or any +other embarrassing fact. For Miss Delamar's beauty was so distinctly +embarrassing that this was the only way to meet it,--to smile and pass +it over and to try, if possible, to get on to something else. It was on +account of this extraordinary quality in her appearance that every one +considered her beauty as something which transcended her private +ownership, and which belonged by right to the polite world at large, to +any one who could appreciate it properly, just as though it were a +sunset or a great work of art or of nature. And so, when she gave away +her photographs no one thought it meant anything more serious than a +recognition on her part of the fact that it would have been unkind and +selfish in her not to have shared the enjoyment of so much loveliness +with others. + +Consequently, when she sent one of her largest and most aggravatingly +beautiful photographs to young Stuart, it was no sign that she cared +especially for him. + +How much young Stuart cared for Miss Delamar, however, was an open +question, and a condition yet to be discovered. That he cared for some +one, and cared so much that his imagination had begun to picture the +awful joys and responsibilities of marriage, was only too well known to +himself, and was a state of mind already suspected by his friends. + +Stuart was a member of the New York bar, and the distinguished law firm +to which he belonged was very proud of its junior member, and treated +him with indulgence and affection, which was not unmixed with amusement. +For Stuart's legal knowledge had been gathered in many odd corners of +the globe, and was various and peculiar. It had been his pleasure to +study the laws by which men ruled other men in every condition of life, +and under every sun. The regulations of a new mining camp were fraught +with as great interest to him as the accumulated precedents of the +English Constitution, and he had investigated the rulings of the mixed +courts of Egypt and of the government of the little Dutch republic near +the Cape with as keen an effort to comprehend, as he had shown in +studying the laws of the American colonies and of the Commonwealth of +Massachusetts. + +But he was not always serious, and it sometimes happened that after he +had arrived at some queer little island where the native prince and the +English governor sat in judgment together, his interest in the +intricacies of their laws would give way to the more absorbing +occupation of chasing wild boar or shooting at tigers from the top of an +elephant. And so he was not only regarded as an authority on many forms +of government and of law, into which no one else had ever taken the +trouble to look, but his books on big game were eagerly read and his +articles in the magazines were earnestly discussed, whether they told of +the divorce laws of Dakota, and the legal rights of widows in Cambodia, +or the habits of the Mexican lion. + +Stuart loved his work better than he knew, but how well he loved Miss +Delamar neither he nor his friends could tell. She was the most +beautiful and lovely creature that he had ever seen, and of that only +was he certain. + +Stuart was sitting in the club one day when the conversation turned to +matrimony. He was among his own particular friends, the men before whom +he could speak seriously or foolishly without fear of being +misunderstood or of having what he said retold and spoiled in the +telling. There was Seldon, the actor, and Rives who painted pictures, +and young Sloane, who travelled for pleasure and adventure, and Weimer +who stayed at home and wrote for the reviews. They were all bachelors, +and very good friends, and jealously guarded their little circle from +the intrusion of either men or women. + +"Of course the chief objection to marriage," Stuart said--it was the +very day in which the picture had been sent to his rooms--"is the old +one that you can't tell anything about it until you are committed to it +forever. It is a very silly thing to discuss even, because there is no +way of bringing it about, but there really should be some sort of a +preliminary trial. As the man says in the play, 'you wouldn't buy a +watch without testing it first.' You don't buy a hat even without +putting it on, and finding out whether it is becoming or not, or whether +your peculiar style of ugliness can stand it. And yet men go gayly off +and get married, and make the most awful promises, and alter their whole +order of life and risk the happiness of some lovely creature on trust, +as it were, knowing absolutely nothing of the new conditions and +responsibilities of the life before them. Even a river pilot has to +serve an apprenticeship before he gets a license, and yet we are allowed +to take just as great risks, and only because we _want_ to take them. +It's awful, and it's all wrong." + +"Well, I don't see what one is going to do about it," commented young +Sloane, lightly, "except to get divorced. That road is always open." + +Sloane was starting the next morning for the Somali Country, in +Abyssinia, to shoot rhinoceros, and his interest in matrimony was in +consequence somewhat slight. + +"It isn't the fear of the responsibilities that keeps Stuart, nor any +one of us back," said Weimer, contemptuously. "It's because we're +selfish. That's the whole truth of the matter. We love our work, or our +pleasure, or to knock about the world, better than we do any particular +woman. When one of us comes to love the woman best, his conscience won't +trouble him long about the responsibilities of marrying her." + +"Not at all," said Stuart, "I am quite sincere; I maintain that there +should be a preliminary stage. Of course there can't be, and it's absurd +to think of it, but it would save a lot of unhappiness." + +"Well," said Seldon, dryly, "when you've invented a way to prevent +marriage from being a lottery, let me know, will you?" He stood up and +smiled nervously. "Any of you coming to see us to-night?" he asked. + +"That's so," exclaimed Weimer, "I forgot. It's the first night of 'A +Fool and His Money,' isn't it? Of course we're coming." + +"I told them to put a box away for you in case you wanted it," Seldon +continued. "Don't expect much. It's a silly piece, and I've a silly +part, and I'm very bad in it. You must come around to supper, and tell +me where I'm bad in it, and we will talk it over. You coming, Stuart?" + +"My dear old man," said Stuart, reproachfully. "Of course I am. I've had +my seats for the last three weeks. Do you suppose I could miss hearing +you mispronounce all the Hindostanee I've taught you?" + +"Well, good-night then," said the actor, waving his hand to his friends +as he moved away. "'We, who are about to die, salute you!'" + +"Good luck to you," said Sloane, holding up his glass. "To the Fool and +His Money," he laughed. He turned to the table again, and sounded the +bell for the waiter. "Now let's send him a telegram and wish him +success, and all sign it," he said, "and don't you fellows tell him that +I wasn't in front to-night. I've got to go to a dinner the Travellers' +Club are giving me." There was a protesting chorus of remonstrance. "Oh, +I don't like it any better than you do," said Sloane, "but I'll get away +early and join you before the play's over. No one in the Travellers' +Club, you see, has ever travelled farther from New York than London or +the Riviera, and so when a member starts for Abyssinia they give him a +dinner, and he has to take himself very seriously indeed, and cry with +Seldon, 'I who am about to die, salute you.' If that man there was any +use," he added, interrupting himself and pointing with his glass at +Stuart, "he'd pack up his things to-night and come with me." + +"Oh, don't urge him," remonstrated Weimer, who had travelled all over +the world in imagination, with the aid of globes and maps, but never had +got any farther from home than Montreal. "We can't spare Stuart. He has +to stop here and invent a preliminary marriage state, so that if he +finds he doesn't like a girl, he can leave her before it is too late." + +"You sail at seven, I believe, and from Hoboken, don't you?" asked +Stuart undisturbed. "If you'll start at eleven from the New York side, I +think I'll go with you, but I hate getting up early; and then you see--I +know what dangers lurk in Abyssinia, but who could tell what might not +happen to him in Hoboken?" + +When Stuart returned to his room, he found a large package set upright +in an armchair and enveloped by many wrappings; but the handwriting on +the outside told him at once from whom it came and what it might be, and +he pounced upon it eagerly and tore it from its covers. The photograph +was a very large one, and the likeness to the original so admirable that +the face seemed to smile and radiate with all the loveliness and beauty +of Miss Delamar herself. Stuart beamed upon it with genuine surprise and +pleasure, and exclaimed delightedly to himself. There was a living +quality about the picture which made him almost speak to it, and thank +Miss Delamar through it for the pleasure she had given him and the honor +she had bestowed. He was proud, flattered, and triumphant, and while he +walked about the room deciding where he would place it, and holding the +picture respectfully before him, he smiled upon it with grateful +satisfaction. + +He decided against his dressing-table as being too intimate a place for +it, and so carried the picture on from his bedroom to the dining-room +beyond, where he set it among his silver on the sideboard. But so +little of his time was spent in this room that he concluded he would +derive but little pleasure from it there, and so bore it back again into +his library, where there were many other photographs and portraits, and +where to other eyes than his own it would be less conspicuous. + +He tried it first in one place and then in another; but in each position +the picture predominated and asserted itself so markedly, that Stuart +gave up the idea of keeping it inconspicuous, and placed it prominently +over the fire-place, where it reigned supreme above every other object +in the room. It was not only the most conspicuous object there, but the +living quality which it possessed in so marked a degree, and which was +due to its naturalness of pose and the excellence of the likeness, made +it permeate the place like a presence and with the individuality of a +real person. Stuart observed this effect with amused interest, and noted +also that the photographs of other women had become commonplace in +comparison like lithographs in a shop window, and that the more +masculine accessories of a bachelor's apartment had grown suddenly +aggressive and out of keeping. The liquor case and the racks of arms +and of barbarous weapons which he had collected with such pride seemed +to have lost their former value and meaning, and he instinctively began +to gather up the mass of books and maps and photographs and pipes and +gloves which lay scattered upon the table, and to put them in their +proper place, or to shove them out of sight altogether. "If I'm to live +up to that picture," he thought, "I must see that George keeps this room +in better order--and I must stop wandering round here in my bath-robe." + +His mind continued on the picture while he was dressing, and he was so +absorbed in it and in analyzing the effect it had had upon him, that his +servant spoke twice before he heard him. + +"No," he answered, "I shall not dine here to-night." Dining at home was +with him a very simple affair, and a somewhat lonely one, and he avoided +it almost nightly by indulging himself in a more expensive fashion. + +But even as he spoke an idea came to Stuart which made him reconsider +his determination, and which struck him as so amusing, that he stopped +pulling at his tie and smiled delightedly at himself in the glass before +him. + +"Yes," he said, still smiling, "I will dine here to-night. Get me +anything in a hurry. You need not wait now; go get the dinner up as soon +as possible." + +The effect which the photograph of Miss Delamar had upon him, and the +transformation it had accomplished in his room, had been as great as +would have marked the presence there of the girl herself. While +considering this it had come to Stuart, like a flash of inspiration, +that here was a way by which he could test the responsibilities and +conditions of married life without compromising either himself, or the +girl to whom he would suppose himself to be married. + +"I will put that picture at the head of the table," he said, "and I will +play that it is she herself, her own, beautiful, lovely self, and I will +talk to her and exchange views with her, and make her answer me just as +she would were we actually married and settled." He looked at his watch +and found it was just seven o'clock. "I will begin now," he said, "and +I will keep up the delusion until midnight. To-night is the best time to +try the experiment because the picture is new now, and its influence +will be all the more real. In a few weeks it may have lost some of its +freshness and reality and will have become one of the fixtures in the +room." + +Stuart decided that under these new conditions it would be more pleasant +to dine at Delmonico's, and he was on the point of asking the Picture +what she thought of it, when he remembered that while it had been +possible for him to make a practice of dining at that place as a +bachelor, he could not now afford so expensive a luxury, and he decided +that he had better economize in that particular and go instead to one of +the table d'hôte restaurants in the neighborhood. He regretted not +having thought of this sooner, for he did not care to dine at a table +d'hôte in evening dress, as in some places it rendered him conspicuous. +So, sooner than have this happen he decided to dine at home, as he had +originally intended when he first thought of attempting this experiment, +and then conducted the picture into dinner and placed her in an +armchair facing him, with the candles full upon the face. + +"Now this is something like," he exclaimed, joyously. "I can't imagine +anything better than this. Here we are all to ourselves with no one to +bother us, with no chaperone, or chaperone's husband either, which is +generally worse. Why is it, my dear," he asked gayly, in a tone that he +considered affectionate and husbandly, "that the attractive chaperones +are always handicapped by such stupid husbands, and vice versa?" + +"If that is true," replied the Picture, or replied Stuart, rather, for +the picture, "I cannot be a very attractive chaperone." Stuart bowed +politely at this, and then considered the point it had raised as to +whether he had, in assuming both characters, the right to pay himself +compliments. He decided against himself in this particular instance, but +agreed that he was not responsible for anything the Picture might say, +so long as he sincerely and fairly tried to make it answer him as he +thought the original would do under like circumstances. From what he +knew of the original under other conditions, he decided that he could +give a very close imitation of her point of view. + +Stuart's interest in his dinner was so real that he found himself +neglecting his wife, and he had to pull himself up to his duty with a +sharp reproof. After smiling back at her for a moment or two until his +servant had again left them alone, he asked her to tell him what she had +been doing during the day. + +"Oh, nothing very important," said the Picture. "I went shopping in the +morning and--" + +Stuart stopped himself and considered this last remark doubtfully. "Now, +how do I know she would go shopping?" he asked himself. "People from +Harlem and women who like bargain counters, and who eat chocolate +meringue for lunch, and then stop in at a continuous performance, go +shopping. It must be the comic paper sort of wives who go about matching +shades and buying hooks and eyes. Yes, I must have made Miss Delamar's +understudy misrepresent her. I beg your pardon, my dear," he said aloud +to the Picture. "You did _not_ go shopping this morning. You probably +went to a woman's luncheon somewhere. Tell me about that." + +"Oh, yes, I went to lunch with the Antwerps," said the Picture, "and +they had that Russian woman there who is getting up subscriptions for +the Siberian prisoners. It's rather fine of her because it exiles her +from Russia. And she is a princess." + +"That's nothing," Stuart interrupted, "they're all princesses when you +see them on Broadway." + +"I beg your pardon," said the Picture. + +"It's of no consequence," said Stuart, apologetically, "it's a comic +song. I forgot you didn't like comic songs. Well--go on." + +"Oh, then I went to a tea, and then I stopped in to hear Madame Ruvier +read a paper on the Ethics of Ibsen, and she--" + +Stuart's voice had died away gradually, and he caught himself wondering +whether he had told George to lay in a fresh supply of cigars. "I beg +your pardon," he said, briskly, "I was listening, but I was just +wondering whether I had any cigars left. You were saying that you had +been at Madame Ruvier's, and--" + +"I am afraid that you were not interested," said the Picture. "Never +mind, it's my fault. Sometimes I think I ought to do things of more +interest, so that I should have something to talk to you about when you +come home." + +Stuart wondered at what hour he would come home now that he was married. +As a bachelor he had been in the habit of stopping on his way up town +from the law office at the club, or to take tea at the houses of the +different girls he liked. Of course he could not do that now as a +married man. He would instead have to limit his calls to married women, +as all the other married men of his acquaintance did. But at the moment +he could not think of any attractive married women who would like his +dropping in on them in such a familiar manner, and the other sort did +not as yet appeal to him. + +He seated himself in front of the coal-fire in the library, with the +Picture in a chair close beside him, and as he puffed pleasantly on his +cigar he thought how well this suited him, and how delightful it was to +find content in so simple and continuing a pleasure. He could almost +feel the pressure of his wife's hand as it lay in his own, as they sat +in silent sympathy looking into the friendly glow of the fire. + +There was a long pleasant pause. + +"They're giving Sloane a dinner to-night at the 'Travellers'," Stuart +said at last, "in honor of his going to Abyssinia." + +Stuart pondered for some short time as to what sort of a reply Miss +Delamar's understudy ought to make to this innocent remark. He recalled +the fact that on numerous occasions the original had shown not only a +lack of knowledge in far-away places, but what was more trying, a lack +of interest as well. For the moment he could not see her robbed of her +pretty environment and tramping through undiscovered countries at his +side. So the Picture's reply, when it came, was strictly in keeping with +several remarks which Miss Delamar herself had made to him in the past. + +"Yes," said the Picture, politely, "and where is Abyssinia--in India, +isn't it?" + +"No, not exactly," corrected Stuart, mildly; "you pass it on your way to +India, though, as you go through the Red Sea. Sloane is taking +Winchesters with him and a double express and a 'five fifty.' He wants +to test their penetration. I think myself that the express is the best, +but he says Selous and Chanler think very highly of the Winchester. I +don't know, I never shot a rhinoceros. The time I killed that elephant," +he went on, pointing at two tusks that stood with some assegais in a +corner, "I used an express, and I had to let go with both barrels. I +suppose, though, if I'd needed a third shot I'd have wished it was a +Winchester. He was charging the smoke, you see, and I couldn't get away +because I'd caught my foot--but I told you about that, didn't I?" Stuart +interrupted himself to ask politely. + +"Yes," said the Picture, cheerfully, "I remember it very well; it was +very foolish of you." + +Stuart straightened himself with a slightly injured air and avoided the +Picture's eye. He had been stopped midway in what was one of his +favorite stories, and it took a brief space of time for him to recover +himself, and to sink back again into the pleasant lethargy in which he +had been basking. + +"Still," he said, "I think the express is the better gun." + +"Oh, is an 'express' a gun?" exclaimed the Picture, with sudden +interest. "Of course, I might have known." + +Stuart turned in his chair and surveyed the Picture in some surprise. +"But, my dear girl," he remonstrated kindly, "why didn't you ask, if you +didn't know what I was talking about. What did you suppose it was?" + +"I didn't know," said the Picture, "I thought it was something to do +with his luggage. Abyssinia sounds so far away," she explained, smiling +sweetly. "You can't expect one to be interested in such queer places, +can you?" + +"No," Stuart answered, reluctantly, and looking steadily at the fire, "I +suppose not. But you see, my dear," he said, "I'd have gone with him, if +I hadn't married you, and so I am naturally interested in his outfit. +They wanted me to make a comparative study of the little +semi-independent states down there, and of how far the Italian +government allows them to rule themselves. That's what I was to have +done." + +But the Picture hastened to reassure him. "Oh, you mustn't think," she +exclaimed, quickly, "that I mean to keep you at home. I love to travel, +too. I want you to go on exploring places just as you've always done, +only now I will go with you. We might do the Cathedral towns, for +instance." + +"The what!" gasped Stuart, raising his head. "Oh, yes, of course," he +added, hurriedly, sinking back into his chair with a slightly bewildered +expression. "That would be very nice. Perhaps your mother would like to +go too; it's not a dangerous expedition, is it? I _was_ thinking of +taking you on a trip through the South Seas--but I suppose the Cathedral +towns are just as exciting. Or we might even penetrate as far into the +interior as the English lakes and read Wordsworth and Coleridge as we +go." + +Miss Delamar's understudy observed him closely for a moment, but he made +no sign, and so she turned her eyes again to the fire with a slightly +troubled look. She had not a strong sense of humor, but she was very +beautiful. + +Stuart's conscience troubled him for the next few moments, and he +endeavored to make up for his impatience of the moment before, by +telling the Picture how particularly well she was looking. + +"It seems almost selfish to keep it all to myself," he mused. + +"You don't mean," inquired the Picture, with tender anxiety, "that you +want any one else here, do you? I'm sure I could be content to spend +every evening like this. I've had enough of going out and talking to +people I don't care about. Two seasons," she added, with the superior +air of one who has put away childish things, "was quite enough of it for +me." + +"Well, I never took it as seriously as that," said Stuart, "but, of +course, I don't want any one else here to spoil our evening. It is +perfect." + +He assured himself that it _was_ perfect, but he wondered what was the +loyal thing for a married couple to do when the conversation came to a +dead stop. And did the conversation come to a stop because they +preferred to sit in silent sympathy and communion, or because they had +nothing interesting to talk about? Stuart doubted if silence was the +truest expression of the most perfect confidence and sympathy. He +generally found when he was interested, that either he or his companion +talked all the time. It was when he was bored that he sat silent. But it +was probably different with married people. Possibly they thought of +each other during these pauses, and of their own affairs and interests, +and then he asked himself how many interests could one fairly retain +with which the other had nothing to do? + +"I suppose," thought Stuart, "that I had better compromise and read +aloud. Should you like me to read aloud?" he asked, doubtfully. + +The Picture brightened perceptibly at this, and said that she thought +that would be charming. "We might make it quite instructive," she +suggested, entering eagerly into the idea. "We ought to agree to read so +many pages every night. Suppose we begin with Guizot's 'History of +France.' I have always meant to read that, the illustrations look so +interesting." + +"Yes, we might do that," assented Stuart, doubtfully. "It is in six +volumes, isn't it? Suppose now, instead," he suggested, with an +impartial air, "we begin that to-morrow night, and go this evening to +see Seldon's new play, 'The Fool and His Money.' It's not too late, and +he has saved a box for us, and Weimer and Rives and Sloane will be +there, and--" + +The Picture's beautiful face settled for just an instant in an +expression of disappointment. "Of course," she replied slowly, "if you +wish it. But I thought you said," she went on with a sweet smile, "that +this was perfect. Now you want to go out again. Isn't this better than a +hot theatre? You might put up with it for one evening, don't you think?" + +"Put up with it!" exclaimed Stuart, enthusiastically; "I could spend +every evening so. It was only a suggestion. It wasn't that I wanted to +go so much as that I thought Seldon might be a little hurt if I didn't. +But I can tell him you were not feeling very well, and that we will come +some other evening. He generally likes to have us there on the first +night, that's all. But he'll understand." + +"Oh," said the Picture, "if you put it in the light of a duty to your +friend, of course we will go." + +"Not at all," replied Stuart, heartily; "I will read something. I +should really prefer it. How would you like something of Browning's?" + +"Oh, I read all of Browning once," said the Picture, "I think I should +like something new." + +Stuart gasped at this, but said nothing, and began turning over the +books on the centre table. He selected one of the monthly magazines, and +choosing a story which neither of them had read, sat down comfortably in +front of the fire, and finished it without interruption and to the +satisfaction of the Picture and himself. The story had made the half +hour pass very pleasantly, and they both commented on it with interest. + +"I had an experience once myself something like that," said Stuart, with +a pleased smile of recollection; "it happened in Paris"--he began with +the deliberation of a man who is sure of his story--"and it turned out +in much the same way. It didn't begin in Paris; it really began while we +were crossing the English Channel to--" + +"Oh, you mean about the Russian who took you for some one else and had +you followed," said the Picture. "Yes, that was like it, except that in +your case nothing happened." + +Stuart took his cigar from between his lips and frowned severely at the +lighted end for some little time before he spoke. + +"My dear," he remonstrated, gently, "you mustn't tell me I've told you +all my old stories before. It isn't fair. Now that I'm married, you see, +I can't go about and have new experiences, and I've got to make use of +the old ones." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," exclaimed the Picture, remorsefully. "I didn't mean +to be rude. Please tell me about it. I should like to hear it again, +ever so much. I _should_ like to hear it again, really." + +"Nonsense," said Stuart, laughing and shaking his head. "I was only +joking; personally I hate people who tell long stories. That doesn't +matter. I was thinking of something else." + +He continued thinking of something else, which was, that though he had +been in jest when he spoke of having given up the chance of meeting +fresh experiences, he had nevertheless described a condition, and a +painfully true one. His real life seemed to have stopped, and he saw +himself in the future looking back and referring to it, as though it +were the career of an entirely different person, of a young man, with +quick sympathies which required satisfying, as any appetite requires +food. And he had an uncomfortable doubt that these many ever-ready +sympathies would rebel if fed on only one diet. + +The Picture did not interrupt him in his thoughts, and he let his mind +follow his eyes as they wandered over the objects above him on the +mantle-shelf. They all meant something from the past,--a busy, wholesome +past which had formed habits of thought and action, habits he could no +longer enjoy alone, and which, on the other hand, it was quite +impossible for him to share with any one else. He was no longer to be +alone. + +Stuart stirred uneasily in his chair and poked at the fire before him. + +"Do you remember the day you came to see me," said the Picture, +sentimentally, "and built the fire yourself and lighted some girl's +letters to make it burn?" + +"Yes," said Stuart, "that is, I _said_ that they were some girl's +letters. It made it more picturesque. I am afraid they were bills. I +should say I did remember it," he continued, enthusiastically. "You wore +a black dress and little red slippers with big black rosettes, and you +looked as beautiful as--as night--as a moonlight night." + +The Picture frowned slightly. + +"You are always telling me about how I looked," she complained; "can't +you remember any time when we were together without remembering what I +had on and how I appeared?" + +"I cannot," said Stuart, promptly. "I can recall lots of other things +besides, but I can't forget how you looked. You have a fashion of +emphasizing episodes in that way which is entirely your own. But, as I +say, I can remember something else. Do you remember, for instance, when +we went up to West Point on that yacht? Wasn't it a grand day, with the +autumn leaves on both sides of the Hudson, and the dress parade, and the +dance afterward at the hotel?" + +"Yes, I should think I did," said the Picture, smiling. "You spent all +your time examining cannon, and talking to the men about 'firing in +open order,' and left me all alone." + +"Left you all alone! I like that," laughed Stuart; "all alone with about +eighteen officers." + +"Well, but that was natural," returned the Picture. "They were men. It's +natural for a girl to talk to men, but why should a man want to talk to +men?" + +"Well, I know better than that now," said Stuart. + +He proceeded to show that he knew better by remaining silent for the +next half hour, during which time he continued to wonder whether this +effort to keep up a conversation was not radically wrong. He thought of +several things he might say, but he argued that it was an impossible +situation where a man had to make conversation with his own wife. + +The clock struck ten as he sat waiting, and he moved uneasily in his +chair. + +"What is it?" asked the Picture; "what makes you so restless?" + +Stuart regarded the Picture timidly for a moment before he spoke. "I was +just thinking," he said, doubtfully, "that we might run down after all, +and take a look in at the last act; it's not too late even now. They're +sure to run behind on the first night. And then," he urged, "we can go +around and see Seldon. You have never been behind the scenes, have you? +It's very interesting." + +"No, I have not, but if we do," remonstrated the Picture, pathetically, +"you _know_ all those men will come trooping home with us. You know they +will." + +"But that's very complimentary," said Stuart. "Why, I like my friends to +like my wife." + +"Yes, but you know how they stay when they get here," she answered; "I +don't believe they ever sleep. Don't you remember the last supper you +gave me before we were married, when Mrs. Starr and you all were +discussing Mr. Seldon's play? She didn't make a move to go until half +past two, and I was _that_ sleepy, I couldn't keep my eyes open." + +"Yes," said Stuart, "I remember. I'm sorry. I thought it was very +interesting. Seldon changed the whole second act on account of what she +said. Well, after this," he laughed with cheerful desperation, "I think +I shall make up for the part of a married man in a pair of slippers and +a dressing-gown, and then perhaps I won't be tempted to roam abroad at +night." + +"You must wear the gown they are going to give you at Oxford," said the +Picture, smiling placidly. "The one Aunt Lucy was telling me about. Why +do they give you a gown?" she asked. "It seems such an odd thing to do." + +"The gown comes with the degree, I believe," said Stuart. + +"But why do they give _you_ a degree?" persisted the Picture; "you never +studied at Oxford, did you?" + +Stuart moved slightly in his chair and shook his head. "I thought I told +you," he said, gently. "No, I never studied there. I wrote some books +on--things, and they liked them." + +"Oh, yes, I remember now, you did tell me," said the Picture; "and I +told Aunt Lucy about it, and said we would be in England during the +season, when you got your degree, and she said you must be awfully +clever to get it. You see--she does appreciate you, and you always +treat her so distantly." + +"Do I?" said Stuart; quietly; "I'm sorry." + +"Will you have your portrait painted in it?" asked the Picture. + +"In what?" + +"In the gown. You are not listening," said the Picture, reproachfully. +"You ought to. Aunt Lucy says it's a beautiful shade of red silk, and +very long. Is it?" + +"I don't know," said Stuart, he shook his head, and dropping his chin +into his hands, stared coldly down into the fire. He tried to persuade +himself that he had been vainglorious, and that he had given too much +weight to the honor which the University of Oxford would bestow upon +him; that he had taken the degree too seriously, and that the Picture's +view of it was the view of the rest of the world. But he could not +convince himself that he was entirely at fault. + +"Is it too late to begin on Guizot?" suggested his Picture, as an +alternative to his plan. "It sounds so improving." + +"Yes, it is much too late," answered Stuart, decidedly. "Besides, I +don't want to be improved. I want to be amused, or inspired, or +scolded. The chief good of friends is that they do one of these three +things, and a wife should do all three." + +"Which shall I do?" asked the Picture, smiling good-humoredly. + +Stuart looked at the beautiful face and at the reclining figure of the +woman to whom he was to turn for sympathy for the rest of his life, and +felt a cold shiver of terror, that passed as quickly as it came. He +reached out his hand and placed it on the arm of the chair where his +wife's hand should have been, and patted the place kindly. He would shut +his eyes to everything but that she was good and sweet and his wife. +Whatever else she lacked that her beauty had covered up and hidden, and +the want of which had lain unsuspected in their previous formal +intercourse, could not be mended now. He would settle his step to hers, +and eliminate all those interests from his life which were not hers as +well. He had chosen a beautiful idol, and not a companion, for a wife. +He had tried to warm his hands at the fire of a diamond. + +Stuart's eyes closed wearily as though to shut out the memories of the +past, or the foreknowledge of what the future was sure to be. His head +sank forward on his breast, and with his hand shading his eyes, he +looked beyond, through the dying fire, into the succeeding years. + + * * * * * + +The gay little French clock on the table sounded the hour of midnight +briskly, with a pert insistent clamor, and at the same instant a +boisterous and unruly knocking answered it from outside the library +door. + +Stuart rose uncertainly from his chair and surveyed the tiny clock face +with a startled expression of bewilderment and relief. + +"Stuart!" his friends called impatiently from the hall. "Stuart, let us +in!" and without waiting further for recognition a merry company of +gentlemen pushed their way noisily into the room. + +"Where the devil have you been?" demanded Weimer. "You don't deserve to +be spoken to at all after quitting us like that. But Seldon is so +good-natured," he went on, "that he sent us after you. It was a great +success, and he made a rattling good speech, and you missed the whole +thing; and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. We've asked half the +people in front to supper--two stray Englishmen, all the Wilton girls +and their governor, and the chap that wrote the play. And Seldon and his +brother Sam are coming as soon as they get their make-up off. Don't +stand there like that, but hurry. What have you been doing?" + +Stuart gave a nervous, anxious laugh. "Oh, don't ask me," he cried. "It +was awful. I've been trying an experiment, and I had to keep it up until +midnight, and--I'm so glad you fellows have come," he continued, halting +midway in his explanation. "I _was_ blue." + +"You've been asleep in front of the fire," said young Sloane, "and +you've been dreaming." + +"Perhaps," laughed Stuart, gayly, "perhaps. But I'm awake now in any +event. Sloane, old man," he cried, dropping both hands on the +youngster's shoulders. "How much money have you? Enough to take me to +Gibraltar? They can cable me the rest." + +"Hoorah!" shouted Sloane, waltzing from one end of the room to the +other. "And we're off to Ab-yss-in-ia in the morn-ing," he sang. +"There's plenty in my money belt," he cried, slapping his sides, "you +can hear the ten-pound notes crackle whenever I breathe, and it's all +yours, my dear boy, and welcome. And I'll prove to you that the +Winchester is the better gun." + +"All right," returned Stuart, gayly, "and I'll try to prove that the +Italians don't know how to govern a native state. But who is giving this +supper, anyway?" he demanded. "That is the main thing--that's what I +want to know." + +"You've got to pack, haven't you?" suggested Rives. + +"I'll pack when I get back," said Stuart, struggling into his greatcoat, +and searching in his pockets for his gloves. "Besides, my things are +always ready and there's plenty of time, the boat doesn't leave for six +hours yet." + +"We'll all come back and help," said Weimer. + +"Then I'll never get away," laughed Stuart. He was radiant, happy, and +excited, like a boy back from school for the holidays. But when they had +reached the pavement, he halted and ran his hand down into his pocket, +as though feeling for his latch-key, and stood looking doubtfully at his +friends. + +"What is it now?" asked Rives, impatiently. "Have you forgotten +something?" + +Stuart looked back at the front door in momentary indecision. + +"Y-es," he answered. "I did forget something. But it doesn't matter," he +added, cheerfully, taking Sloane's arm. + +"Come on," he said, "and so Seldon made a hit, did he? I am glad--and +tell me, old man, how long will we have to wait at Gib for the P. & O.?" + +Stuart's servant had heard the men trooping down the stairs, laughing +and calling to one another as they went, and judging from this that they +had departed for the night, he put out all the lights in the library and +closed the piano, and lifted the windows to clear the room of the +tobacco-smoke. He did not notice the beautiful photograph sitting +upright in the armchair before the fireplace, and so left it alone in +the deserted library. + +The cold night-air swept in through the open window and chilled the +silent room, and the dead coals in the grate dropped one by one into +the fender with a dismal echoing clatter; but the Picture still sat in +the armchair with the same graceful pose and the same lovely expression, +and smiled sweetly at the encircling darkness. + + + + +THE EDITOR'S STORY + + +It was a warm afternoon in the early spring, and the air in the office +was close and heavy. The letters of the morning had been answered and +the proofs corrected, and the gentlemen who had come with ideas worth +one column at space rates, and which they thought worth three, had +compromised with the editor on a basis of two, and departed. The +editor's desk was covered with manuscripts in a heap, a heap that never +seemed to grow less, and each manuscript bore a character of its own, as +marked or as unobtrusive as the character of the man or of the woman who +had written it, which disclosed itself in the care with which some were +presented for consideration, in the vain little ribbons of others, or +the selfish manner in which still others were tightly rolled or vilely +scribbled. + +The editor held the first page of a poem in his hand, and was reading it +mechanically, for its length had already declared against it, unless it +might chance to be the precious gem out of a thousand, which must be +chosen in spite of its twenty stanzas. But as the editor read, his +interest awakened, and he scanned the verses again, as one would turn to +look a second time at a face which seemed familiar. At the fourth stanza +his memory was still in doubt, at the sixth it was warming to the chase, +and at the end of the page was in full cry. He caught up the second page +and looked for the final verse, and then at the name below, and then +back again quickly to the title of the poem, and pushed aside the papers +on his desk in search of any note which might have accompanied it. + +The name signed at the bottom of the second page was Edwin Aram, the +title of the poem was "Bohemia," and there was no accompanying note, +only the name Berkeley written at the top of the first page. The +envelope in which it had come gave no further clew. It was addressed in +the same handwriting as that in which the poem had been written, and it +bore the post-mark of New York city. There was no request for the return +of the poem, no direction to which either the poem itself or the check +for its payment in the event of its acceptance might be sent. Berkeley +might be the name of an apartment-house or of a country place or of a +suburban town. + +The editor stepped out of his office into the larger room beyond and +said: "I've a poem here that appeared in an American magazine about +seven years ago. I remember the date because I read it when I was at +college. Some one is either trying to play a trick on us, or to get +money by stealing some other man's brains." + +It was in this way that Edwin Aram first introduced himself to our +office, and while his poem was not accepted, it was not returned. On the +contrary, Mr. Aram became to us one of the most interesting of our +would-be contributors, and there was no author, no matter of what +popularity, for whose work we waited with greater impatience. But Mr. +Aram's personality still remained as completely hidden from us as were +the productions which he offered from the sight of our subscribers. For +each of the poems he sent had been stolen outright and signed with his +name. + +It was through no fault of ours that he continued to blush unseen, or +that his pretty taste in poems was unappreciated by the general reader. +We followed up every clew and every hint he chose to give us with an +enthusiasm worthy of a search after a lost explorer, and with an animus +worthy of better game. Yet there was some reason for our interest. The +man who steals the work of another and who passes it off as his own is +the special foe of every editor, but this particular editor had a +personal distrust of Mr. Aram. He imagined that these poems might +possibly be a trap which some one had laid for him with the purpose of +drawing him into printing them, and then of pointing out by this fact +how little read he was, and how unfit to occupy the swivel-chair into +which he had so lately dropped. Or if this were not the case, the man +was in any event the enemy of all honest people, who look unkindly on +those who try to obtain money by false pretences. + +The evasions of Edwin Aram were many, and his methods to avoid detection +not without skill. His second poem was written on a sheet of note-paper +bearing the legend "The Shakespeare Debating Club. Edwin Aram, +President." + +This was intended to reassure us as to his literary taste and standard, +and to meet any suspicion we might feel had there been no address of any +sort accompanying the poem. No one we knew had ever heard of a +Shakespeare Debating Club in New York city. But we gave him the benefit +of the doubt until we found that this poem, like the first, was also +stolen. His third poem bore his name and an address, which on instant +inquiry turned out to be that of a vacant lot on Seventh Avenue near +Central Park. + +Edwin Aram had by this time become an exasperating and picturesque +individual, and the editorial staff was divided in its opinion +concerning him. It was argued on one hand that as the man had never sent +us a real address, his object must be to gain a literary reputation at +the expense of certain poets, and not to make money at ours. Others +answered this by saying that fear of detection alone kept Edwin Aram +from sending his real address, but that as soon as his poem was printed, +and he ascertained by that fact that he had not been discovered, he +would put in an application for payment, and let us know quickly enough +to what portion of New York city his check should be forwarded. + +This, however, presupposed the fact that he was writing to us over his +real name, which we did not believe he would dare to do. No one in our +little circle of journalists and literary men had ever heard of such a +man, and his name did not appear in the directory. This fact, however, +was not convincing in itself, as the residents of New York move from +flat to hotel, and from apartments to boarding-houses as frequently as +the Arab changes his camping-ground. We tried to draw him out at last by +publishing a personal paragraph which stated that several contributions +received from Edwin Aram would be returned to him if he would send +stamps and his present address. The editor did not add that he would +return the poems in person, but such was his warlike intention. + +This had the desired result, and brought us a fourth poem and a fourth +address, the name of a tall building which towers above Union Square. We +seemed to be getting very warm now, and the editor gathered up the four +poems, and called to his aid his friend Bronson, the ablest reporter on +the New York ----, who was to act as chronicler. They took with them +letters from the authors of two of the poems and from the editor of the +magazine in which the first one had originally appeared, testifying to +the fact that Edwin Aram had made an exact copy of the original, and +wishing the brother editor good luck in catching the plagiarist. + +The reporter looked these over with a critical eye. "The City Editor +told me if we caught him," he said, "that I could let it run for all it +was worth. I can use these names, I suppose, and I guess they have +pictures of the poets at the office. If he turns out to be anybody in +particular, it ought to be worth a full three columns. Sunday paper, +too." + +The amateur detectives stood in the lower hall in the tall building, +between swinging doors, and jostled by hurrying hundreds, while they +read the names on a marble directory. + +"There he is!" said the editor, excitedly. "'American Literary Bureau.' +One room on the fourteenth floor. That's just the sort of a place in +which we would be likely to find him." But the reporter was gazing +open-eyed at a name in large letters on an office door. "Edward K. +Aram," it read, "Commissioner of ----, and City ----." + +"What do you think of _that_?" he gasped, triumphantly. + +"Nonsense," said the editor. "He wouldn't dare; besides, the initials +are different. You're expecting too good a story." + +"That's the way to get them," answered the reporter, as he hurried +towards the office of the City ----. "If a man falls dead, believe it's +a suicide until you prove it's not; if you find a suicide, believe it's +a murder until you are convinced to the contrary. Otherwise you'll get +beaten. We don't want the proprietor of a little literary bureau, we +want a big city official and I'll believe we have one until he proves we +haven't." + +"Which are you going to ask for?" whispered the editor, "Edward K. or +Edwin?" + +"Edwin, I should say," answered the reporter. "He has probably given +notice that mail addressed that way should go to him." + +"Is Mr. Edwin Aram in?" he asked. + +A clerk raised his head and looked behind him. "No," he said; "his desk +is closed. I guess he's gone home for the day." + +The reporter nudged the editor savagely with his elbow, but his face +gave no sign. "That's a pity," he said; "we have an appointment with +him. He still lives at Sixty-first Street and Madison Avenue, I believe, +does he not?" + +"No," said the clerk; "that's his father, the Commissioner, Edward K. +The son lives at ----. Take the Sixth Avenue elevated and get off at +116th Street." + +"Thank you," said the reporter. He turned a triumphant smile upon the +editor. "We've got him!" he said, excitedly. "And the son of old Edward +K., too! Think of it! Trying to steal a few dollars by cribbing other +men's poems; that's the best story there has been in the papers for the +past three months,--'Edward K. Aram's son a thief!' Look at the +names--politicians, poets, editors, all mixed up in it. It's good for +three columns, sure." + +"We've got to think of his people, too," urged the editor, as they +mounted the steps of the elevated road. + +"He didn't think of them," said the reporter. + +The house in which Mr. Aram lived was an apartment-house, and the brass +latchets in the hallway showed that it contained three suites. There +were visiting-cards under the latchets of the first and third stories, +and under that of the second a piece of note-paper on which was written +the autograph of Edwin Aram. The editor looked at it curiously. He had +never believed it to be a real name. + +"I am sorry Edwin Aram did not turn out to be a woman," he said, +regretfully; "it would have been so much more interesting." + +"Now," instructed Bronson, impressively, "whether he is in or not we +have him. If he's not in, we wait until he comes, even if he doesn't +come until morning; we don't leave this place until we have seen him." + +"Very well," said the editor. + +The maid left them standing at the top of the stairs while she went to +ask if Mr. Aram was in, and whether he would see two gentlemen who did +not give their names because they were strangers to him. The two stood +silent while they waited, eying each other anxiously, and when the girl +reopened the door, nodded pleasantly, and said, "Yes, Mr. Aram is in," +they hurried past her as though they feared that he would disappear in +midair, or float away through the windows before they could reach him. + +And yet, when they stood at last face-to-face him, he bore a most +disappointing air of every-day respectability. He was a tall, thin young +man, with light hair and mustache and large blue eyes. His back was +towards the window, so that his face was in the shadow, and he did not +rise as they entered. The room in which he sat was a prettily furnished +one, opening into another tiny room, which, from the number of books in +it, might have been called a library. The rooms had a well-to-do, even +prosperous, air, but they did not show any evidences of a pronounced +taste on the part of their owner, either in the way in which they were +furnished or in the decorations of the walls. A little girl of about +seven or eight years of age, who was standing between her father's +knees, with a hand on each, and with her head thrown back on his +shoulder, looked up at the two visitors with evident interest, and +smiled brightly. + +"Mr. Aram?" asked the editor, tentatively. + +The young man nodded, and the two visitors seated themselves. + +"I wish to talk to you on a matter of private business," the editor +began. "Wouldn't it be better to send the little girl away?" + +The child shook her head violently at this, and crowded up closely to +her father; but he held her away from him gently, and told her to "run +and play with Annie." + +She passed the two visitors, with her head held scornfully in air, and +left the men together. Mr. Aram seemed to have a most passive and +incurious disposition. He could have no idea as to who his anonymous +visitors might be, nor did he show any desire to know. + +"I am the editor of ----," the editor began. "My friend also writes for +that periodical. I have received several poems from you lately, Mr. +Aram, and one in particular which we all liked very much. It was called +'Bohemia.' But it is so like one that has appeared under the same title +in the '---- Magazine' that I thought I would see you about it, and ask +you if you could explain the similarity. You see," he went on, "it would +be less embarrassing if you would do so now than later, when the poem +has been published and when people might possibly accuse you of +plagiarism." The editor smiled encouragingly and waited. + +Mr. Aram crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands in his lap. +He exhibited no interest, and looked drowsily at the editor. When he +spoke it was in a tone of unstudied indifference. "I never wrote a poem +called 'Bohemia,'" he said, slowly; "at least, if I did I don't remember +it." + +The editor had not expected a flat denial, and it irritated him, for he +recognized it to be the safest course the man could pursue, if he kept +to it. "But you don't mean to say," he protested, smiling, "that you can +write so excellent a poem as 'Bohemia' and then forget having done so?" + +"I might," said Mr. Aram, unresentfully, and with little interest. "I +scribble a good deal." + +"Perhaps," suggested the reporter, politely, with the air of one who is +trying to cover up a difficulty to the satisfaction of all, "Mr. Aram +would remember it if he saw it." + +The editor nodded his head in assent, and took the first page of the two +on which the poem was written, and held it out to Mr. Aram, who accepted +the piece of foolscap and eyed it listlessly. + +"Yes, I wrote that," he said. "I copied it out of a book called _Gems +from American Poets_." There was a lazy pause. "But I never sent it to +any paper." The editor and the reporter eyed each other with outward +calm but with some inward astonishment. They could not see why he had +not adhered to his original denial of the thing _in toto_. It seemed to +them so foolish, to admit having copied the poem and then to deny having +forwarded it. + +"You see," explained Mr. Aram, still with no apparent interest in the +matter, "I am very fond of poetry; I like to recite it, and I often +write it out in order to make me remember it. I find it impresses the +words on my mind. Well, that's what has happened. I have copied this +poem out at the office probably, and one of the clerks there has found +it, and has supposed that I wrote it, and he has sent it to your paper +as a sort of a joke on me. You see, father being so well-known, it would +rather amuse the boys if I came out as a poet. That's how it was, I +guess. Somebody must have found it and sent it to you, because _I_ never +sent it." + +There was a moment of thoughtful consideration. "I see," said the +editor. "I used to do that same thing myself when I had to recite pieces +at school. I found that writing the verses down helped me to remember +them. I remember that I once copied out many of Shakespeare's sonnets. +But, Mr. Aram, it never occurred to me, after having copied out one of +Shakespeare's sonnets, to sign my own name at the bottom of it." + +Mr. Aram's eyes dropped to the page of manuscript in his hand and rested +there for some little time. Then he said, without raising his head, "I +haven't signed this." + +"No," replied the editor; "but you signed the second page, which I still +have in my hand." + +The editor and his companion expected some expression of indignation +from Mr. Aram at this, some question of their right to come into his +house and cross-examine him and to accuse him, tentatively at least, of +literary fraud, but they were disappointed. Mr. Aram's manner was still +one of absolute impassibility. Whether this manner was habitual to him +they could not know, but it made them doubt their own judgment in having +so quickly accused him, as it bore the look of undismayed innocence. + +It was the reporter who was the first to break the silence. "Perhaps +some one has signed Mr. Aram's name--the clerk who sent it, for +instance." + +Young Mr. Aram looked up at him curiously, and held out his hand for the +second page. "Yes," he drawled, "that's how it happened. That's not my +signature. I never signed that." + +The editor was growing restless. "I have several other poems here from +you," he said; "one written from the rooms of the Shakespeare Debating +Club, of which I see you are president. Your clerk could not have access +there, could he? He did not write that, too?" + +"No," said Mr. Aram, doubtfully, "he could not have written that." + +The editor handed him the poem. "It's yours, then?" + +"Yes, that's mine," Mr. Aram replied. + +"And the signature?" + +"Yes, and the signature. I wrote that myself," Mr. Aram explained, "and +sent it myself. That other one ('Bohemia') I just copied out to +remember, but this is original with me." + +"And the envelope in which it was enclosed," asked the editor, "did you +address that also?" + +Mr. Aram examined it uninterestedly. "Yes, that's my handwriting too." +He raised his head. His face wore an expression of patient politeness. + +"Oh!" exclaimed the editor, suddenly, in some embarrassment. "I handed +you the wrong envelope. I beg your pardon. That envelope is the one in +which 'Bohemia' came." + +The reporter gave a hardly perceptible start; his eyes were fixed on the +pattern of the rug at his feet, and the editor continued to examine the +papers in his hand. There was a moment's silence. From outside came the +noise of children playing in the street and the rapid rush of a passing +wagon. + +When the two visitors raised their heads Mr. Aram was looking at them +strangely, and the fingers folded in his lap were twisting in and out. + +"This Shakespeare Debating Club," said the editor, "where are its rooms, +Mr. Aram?" + +"It has no rooms, now," answered the poet. "It has disbanded. It never +had any regular rooms; we just met about and read." + +"I see--exactly," said the editor. "And the house on Seventh Avenue from +which your third poem was sent--did you reside there then, or have you +always lived here?" + +"No, yes--I used to live there--I lived there when I wrote that poem." + +The editor looked at the reporter and back at Mr. Aram. "It is a vacant +lot, Mr. Aram," he said, gravely. + +There was a long pause. The poet rocked slowly up and down in his +rocking-chair, and looked at his hands, which he rubbed over one another +as though they were cold. Then he raised his head and cleared his +throat. + +"Well, gentlemen," he said, "you have made out your case." + +"Yes," said the editor, regretfully, "we have made out our case." He +could not help but wish that the fellow had stuck to his original +denial. It was too easy a victory. + +"I don't say, mind you," went on Mr. Aram, "that I ever took anybody's +verses and sent them to a paper as my own, but I ask you, as one +gentleman talking to another, and inquiring for information, what is +there wrong in doing it? I say, _if_ I had done it, which I don't admit +I ever did, where's the harm?" + +"Where's the harm?" cried the two visitors in chorus. + +"Obtaining money under false pretences," said the editor, "is the harm +you do the publishers, and robbing another man of the work of his brain +and what credit belongs to him is the harm you do him, and telling a lie +is the least harm done. Such a contemptible foolish lie, too, that you +might have known would surely find you out in spite of the trouble you +took to--" + +"I never asked you for any money," interrupted Mr. Aram, quietly. + +"But we would have sent it to you, nevertheless," retorted the editor, +"if we had not discovered in time that the poems were stolen." + +"Where would you have sent it?" asked Mr. Aram. "I never gave you a +right address, did I? I ask you, did I?" + +The editor paused in some confusion, "Well, if you did not want the +money, what did you want?" he exclaimed. "I must say I should like to +know." + +Mr. Aram rocked himself to and fro, and gazed at his two inquisitors +with troubled eyes. "I didn't see any harm in it then," he repeated. "I +don't see any harm in it now. I didn't ask you for any money. I sort of +thought," he said, confusedly, "that I should like to see my name in +print. I wanted my friends to see it. I'd have liked to have shown it +to--to--well, I'd like my wife to have seen it. She's interested in +literature and books and magazines and things like that. That was all I +wanted. That's why I did it." + +The reporter looked up askance at the editor, as a prompter watches the +actor to see if he is ready to take his cue. + +"How do I know that?" demanded the editor, sharply. He found it somewhat +difficult to be severe with this poet, for the man admitted so much so +readily, and would not defend himself. Had he only blustered and grown +angry and ordered them out, instead of sitting helplessly there rocking +to and fro and picking at the back of his hands, it would have made it +so much easier. "How do we know," repeated the editor, "that you did not +intend to wait until the poems had appeared, and then send us your real +address and ask for the money, saying that you had moved since you had +last written us?" + +"Oh," protested Mr. Aram, "you know I never thought of that." + +"I don't know anything of the sort," said the editor. "I only know that +you have forged and lied and tried to obtain money that doesn't belong +to you, and that I mean to make an example of you and frighten other men +from doing the same thing. No editor has read every poem that was ever +written, and there is no protection for him from such fellows as you, +and the only thing he can do when he does catch one of you is to make an +example of him. That's what I am going to do. I am going to make an +example of you. I am going to nail you up as people nail up dead crows +to frighten off the live ones. It is my intention to give this to the +papers to-night, and you know what they will do with it in the morning." + +There was a long and most uncomfortable pause, and it is doubtful if the +editor did not feel it as much as did the man opposite him. The editor +turned to his friend for a glance of sympathy, or of disapproval even, +but that gentleman still sat bending forward with his eyes fixed on the +floor, while he tapped with the top of his cane against his teeth. + +"You don't mean," said Mr. Aram, in a strangely different voice from +which he had last spoken, "that you would do that?" + +"Yes, I do," blustered the editor. But even as he spoke he was conscious +of a sincere regret that he had not come alone. He could intuitively +feel Bronson mapping out the story in his mind and memorizing Aram's +every word, and taking mental notes of the framed certificates of high +membership in different military and masonic associations which hung +upon the walls. It had not been long since the editor was himself a +reporter, and he could see that it was as good a story as Bronson could +wish it to be. But he reiterated, "Yes, I mean to give it to the papers +to-night." + +"But think," said Aram--"think, sir, who I am. You don't want to ruin me +for the rest of my life just for a matter of fifteen dollars, do you? +Fifteen dollars that no one has lost, either. If I'd embezzled a million +or so, or if I had robbed the city, well and good! I'd have taken big +risks for big money; but you are going to punish me just as hard, +because I tried to please my wife, as though I had robbed a mint. No one +has really been hurt," he pleaded; "the men who wrote the poems--they've +been paid for them; they've got all the credit for them they _can_ get. +You've not lost a cent. I've gained nothing by it; and yet you gentlemen +are going to give this thing to the papers, and, as you say, sir, we +know what they will make of it. What with my being my father's son, and +all that, my father is going to suffer. My family is going to suffer. It +will ruin me--" + +The editor put the papers back into his pocket. If Bronson had not been +there he might possibly instead have handed them over to Mr. Aram, and +this story would never have been written. But he could not do that now. +Mr. Aram's affairs had become the property of the New York newspaper. + +He turned to his friend doubtfully. "What do you think, Bronson?" he +asked. + +At this sign of possible leniency Aram ceased in his rocking and sat +erect, with eyes wide open and fixed on Bronson's face. But the latter +trailed his stick over the rug beneath his feet and shrugged his +shoulders. + +"Mr. Aram," he said, "might have thought of his family and his father +before he went into this business. It is rather late now. But," he +added, "I don't think it is a matter we can decide in any event. It +should be left to the firm." + +"Yes," said the editor, hurriedly, glad of the excuse to temporize, "we +must leave it to the house." But he read Bronson's answer to mean that +he did not intend to let the plagiarist escape, and he knew that even +were Bronson willing to do so, there was still his City Editor to be +persuaded. + +The two men rose and stood uncomfortably, shifting their hats in their +hands--and avoiding each other's eyes. Mr. Aram stood up also, and +seeing that his last chance had come, began again to plead desperately. + +"What good would fifteen dollars do me?" he said, with a gesture of his +hands round the room. "I don't have to look for money as hard as that I +tell you," he reiterated, "it wasn't the money I wanted. I didn't mean +any harm. I didn't know it was wrong. I just wanted to please my +wife--that was all. My God, man, can't you see that you are punishing +me out of all proportion?" + +The visitors walked towards the door, and he followed them, talking the +faster as they drew near to it. The scene had become an exceedingly +painful one, and they were anxious to bring it to a close. + +The editor interrupted him. "We will let you know," he said, "what we +have decided to do by to-morrow morning." + +"You mean," retorted the man, hopelessly and reproachfully, "that I will +read it in the Sunday papers." + +Before the editor could answer they heard the door leading into the +apartment open and close, and some one stepping quickly across the hall +to the room in which they stood. The entrance to the room was hung with +a portière, and as the three men paused in silence this portière was +pushed back, and a young lady stood in the doorway, holding the curtains +apart with her two hands. She was smiling, and the smile lighted a face +that was inexpressibly bright and honest and true. Aram's face had been +lowered, but the eyes of the other two men were staring wide open +towards the unexpected figure, which seemed to bring a taste of fresh +pure air into the feverish atmosphere of the place. The girl stopped +uncertainly when she saw the two strangers, and bowed her head slightly +as the mistress of a house might welcome any one whom she found in her +drawing-room. She was entirely above and apart from her surroundings. It +was not only that she was exceedingly pretty, but that everything about +her, from her attitude to her cloth walking-dress, was significant of +good taste and high breeding. + +She paused uncertainly, still smiling, and with her gloved hands holding +back the curtains and looking at Aram with eyes filled with a kind +confidence. She was apparently waiting for him to present his friends. + +The editor made a sudden but irrevocable resolve. "If she is only a +chance visitor," he said to himself, "I will still expose him; but if +that woman in the doorway is his wife, I will push Bronson under the +elevated train, and the secret will die with me." + +What Bronson's thoughts were he could not know, but he was conscious +that his friend had straightened his broad shoulders and was holding his +head erect. + +Aram raised his face, but he did not look at the woman in the door. "In +a minute, dear," he said; "I am busy with these gentlemen." + +The girl gave a little "oh" of apology, smiled at her husband's bent +head, inclined her own again slightly to the other men, and let the +portière close behind her. It had been as dramatic an entrance and exit +as the two visitors had ever seen upon the stage. It was as if Aram had +given a signal, and the only person who could help him had come in the +nick of time to plead for him. Aram, stupid as he appeared to be, had +evidently felt the effect his wife's appearance had made upon his +judges. He still kept his eyes fixed upon the floor, but he said, and +this time with more confidence in his tone:-- + +"It is not, gentlemen, as though I were an old man. I have so very long +to live--so long to try to live this down. Why, I am as young as you +are. How would you like to have a thing like this to carry with you till +you died?" + +The editor still stood staring blankly at the curtains through which Mr. +Aram's good angel, for whom he had lied and cheated in order to gain +credit in her eyes, had disappeared. He pushed them aside with his +stick. "We will let you know to-morrow morning," he repeated, and the +two men passed out from the poet's presence, and on into the hall. They +descended the stairs in an uncomfortable silence, Bronson leading the +way, and the editor endeavoring to read his verdict by the back of his +head and shoulders. + +At the foot of the steps he pulled his friend by the sleeve. "Bronson," +he coaxed, "you are not going to use it, are you?" + +Bronson turned on him savagely. "For Heaven's sake!" he protested, "what +do you think I am; did you _see_ her?" + +So the New York ---- lost a very good story, and Bronson a large sum of +money for not writing it, and Mr. Aram was taught a lesson, and his +young wife's confidence in him remained unshaken. The editor and +reporter dined together that night, and over their cigars decided with +sudden terror that Mr. Aram might, in his ignorance of their good +intentions concerning him, blow out his brains, and for nothing. So they +despatched a messenger-boy up town in post-haste with a note saying that +"the firm" had decided to let the matter drop. Although, perhaps, it +would have been better to have given him one sleepless night at least. + +That was three years ago, and since then Mr. Aram's father has fallen +out with Tammany, and has been retired from public service. Bronson has +been sent abroad to represent the United States at a foreign court, and +has asked the editor to write the story that he did not write, but with +such changes in the names of people and places that no one save Mr. Aram +may know who Mr. Aram really was and is. + +This the editor has done, reporting what happened as faithfully as he +could, and in the hope that it will make an interesting story in spite +of the fact, and not on account of the fact, that it is a true one. + + + + +AN ASSISTED EMIGRANT + + +Guido stood on the curb-stone in Fourteenth Street, between Fifth Avenue +and Sixth Avenue, with a row of plaster figures drawn up on the sidewalk +in front of him. It was snowing, and they looked cold in consequence, +especially the Night and Morning. A line of men and boys stretched on +either side of Guido all along the curb-stone, with toys and dolls, and +guns that shot corks into the air with a loud report, and glittering +dressings for the Christmas trees. It was the day before Christmas. The +man who stood next in line to Guido had hideous black monkeys that +danced from the end of a rubber string. The man danced up and down too, +very much, so Guido thought, as the monkeys did, and stamped his feet on +the icy pavement, and shouted: "Here yer are, lady, for five cents. Take +them home to the children." There were hundreds and hundreds of ladies +and little girls crowding by all of the time; some of them were a +little cross and a little tired, as if Christmas shopping had told on +their nerves, but the greater number were happy-looking and warm, and +some stopped and laughed at the monkeys dancing on the rubber strings, +and at the man with the frost on his mustache, who jumped too, and +cried, "Only five cents, lady--nice Christmas presents for the +children." + +Sometimes the ladies bought the monkeys, but no one looked at the cold +plaster figures of St. Joseph, and Diana, and Night and Morning, nor at +the heads of Mars and Minerva--not even at the figure of the Virgin, +with her two hands held out, which Guido pressed in his arms against his +breast. + +Guido had been in New York city just one month. He was very young--so +young that he had never done anything at home but sit on the wharves and +watch the ships come in and out of the great harbor of Genoa. He never +had wished to depart with these ships when they sailed away, nor +wondered greatly as to where they went. He was content with the wharves +and with the narrow streets near by, and to look up from the bulkheads +at the sailors working in the rigging, and the 'long-shoremen rolling +the casks on board, or lowering great square boxes into the holds. + +He would have liked, could he have had his way, to live so for the rest +of his life; but they would not let him have his way, and coaxed him on +a ship to go to the New World to meet his uncle. He was not a real +uncle, but only a make-believe one, to satisfy those who objected to +assisted immigrants, and who wished to be assured against having to +support Guido, and others like him. But they were not half so anxious to +keep Guido at home as he himself was to stay there. + +The new uncle met him at Ellis Island, and embraced him affectionately, +and put him in an express wagon, and drove him with a great many more of +his countrymen to where Mulberry Street makes a bend and joins Hester. +And in the Bend Guido found thousands of his fellows sleeping twenty in +a room and over-crowded into the street: some who had but just arrived, +and others who had already learned to swear in English, and had their +street-cleaning badges and their peddler's licenses, to show that they +had not been overlooked by the kindly society of Tammany, which sees +that no free and independent voter shall go unrewarded. + +New York affected Guido like a bad dream. It was cold and muddy, and +the snow when it fell turned to mud so quickly that Guido believed they +were one and the same. He did not dare to think of the place he know as +home. And the sight of the colored advertisements of the steamship lines +that hung in the windows of the Italian bankers hurt him as the sound of +traffic on the street cuts to the heart of a prisoner in the Tombs. Many +of his countrymen bade good-by to Mulberry Street and sailed away; but +they had grown rich through obeying the padrones, and working night and +morning sweeping the Avenue uptown, and by living on the refuse from the +scows at Canal Street. Guido never hoped to grow rich, and no one +stopped to buy his uncle's wares. + +The electric lights came out, and still the crowd passed and thronged +before him, and the snow fell and left no mark on the white figures. +Guido was growing cold, and the bustle of the hurrying hundreds which +had entertained him earlier in the day had ceased to interest him, and +his amusement had given place to the fear that no one of them would ever +stop, and that he would return to his uncle empty-handed. He was hungry +now, as well as cold, and though there was not much rich food in the +Bend at any time, to-day he had had nothing of any quality to eat since +early morning. The man with the monkeys turned his head from time to +time, and spoke to him in a language that he could not understand; +although he saw that it was something amusing and well meant that the +man said, and so smiled back and nodded. He felt it to be quite a loss +when the man moved away. + +Guido thought very slowly, but he at last began to feel a certain +contempt for the stiff statues and busts which no one wanted, and +buttoned the figure of the one of the woman with her arms held out, +inside of his jacket, and tucked his scarf in around it, so that it +might not be broken, and also that it might not bear the ignominy with +the others of being overlooked. Guido was a gentle, slow-thinking boy, +and could not have told you why he did this, but he knew that this +figure was of different clay from the others. He had seen it placed high +in the cathedrals at home, and he had been told that if you ask certain +things of it it will listen to you. + +The women and children began to disappear from the crowd, and the +necessity of selling some of his wares impressed itself more urgently +upon him as the night grew darker and possible customers fewer. He +decided that he had taken up a bad position, and that instead of waiting +for customers to come to him, he ought to go seek for them. With this +purpose in his mind, he gathered the figures together upon his tray, and +resting it upon his shoulder, moved further along the street, to +Broadway, where the crowd was greater and the shops more brilliantly +lighted. He had good cause to be watchful, for the sidewalks were +slippery with ice, and the people rushed and hurried and brushed past +him without noticing the burden he carried on one shoulder. He wished +now that he knew some words of this new language, that he might call his +wares and challenge the notice of the passers-by, as did the other men +who shouted so continually and vehemently at the hurrying crowds. He did +not know what might happen if he failed to sell one of his statues; it +was a possibility so awful that he did not dare conceive of its +punishment. But he could do nothing, and so stood silent, dumbly +presenting his tray to the people near him. + +His wanderings brought him to the corner of a street, and he started to +cross it, in the hope of better fortune in untried territory. There was +no need of his hurrying to do this, although a car was coming towards +him, so he stepped carefully but surely. But as he reached the middle of +the track a man came towards him from the opposite pavement; they met +and hesitated, and then both jumped to the same side, and the man's +shoulder struck the tray and threw the white figures flying to the +track, where the horses tramped over them on their way. Guido fell +backwards, frightened and shaken, and the car stopped, and the driver +and the conductor leaned out anxiously from each end. + +There seemed to be hundreds of people all around Guido, and some of them +picked him up and asked him questions in a very loud voice, as though +that would make the language they spoke more intelligible. Two men took +him by each arm and talked with him in earnest tones, and punctuated +their questions by shaking him gently. He could not answer them, but +only sobbed, and beat his hands softly together, and looked about him +for a chance to escape. The conductor of the car jerked the strap +violently, and the car went on its way. Guido watched the conductor, as +he stood with his hands in his pockets looking back at him. Guido had a +confused idea that the people on the car might pay him for the plaster +figures which had been scattered in the slush and snow, so that the +heads and arms and legs lay on every side or were ground into heaps of +white powder. But when the car disappeared into the night he gave up +this hope, and pulling himself free from his captor, slipped through the +crowd and ran off into a side street. A man who had seen the accident +had been trying to take up a collection in the crowd, which had grown +less sympathetic and less numerous in consequence, and had gathered more +than the plaster casts were worth; but Guido did not know this, and when +they came to look for him he was gone, and the bareheaded gentleman, +with his hat full of coppers and dimes, was left in much embarrassment. + +Guido walked to Washington Square, and sat down on a bench to rest, and +then curled over quickly, and stretching himself out at full length, +wept bitterly. When any one passed he held his breath and pretended to +be asleep. He did not know what he was to do or where he was to go. +Such a calamity as this had never entered into his calculations of the +evils which might overtake him, and it overwhelmed him utterly. A +policeman touched him with his nightstick, and spoke to him kindly +enough, but the boy only backed away from the man until he was out of +his reach, and then ran on again, slipping and stumbling on the ice and +snow. He ran to Christopher Street, through Greenwich Village, and on to +the wharves. + +It was quite late, and he had recovered from his hunger, and only felt a +sick tired ache at his heart. His feet were heavy and numb, and he was +very sleepy. People passed him continually, and doors opened into +churches and into noisy glaring saloons and crowded shops, but it did +not seem possible to him that there could be any relief from any source +for the sorrow that had befallen him. It seemed too awful, and as +impossible to mend as it would be to bring the crushed plaster into +shape again. He considered dully that his uncle would miss him and wait +for him, and that his anger would increase with every moment of his +delay. He felt that he could never return to his uncle again. + +Then he came to another park, opening into a square, with lighted +saloons on one side, and on the other great sheds, with ships lying +beside them, and the electric lights showing their spars and masts +against the sky. It had ceased snowing, but the air from the river was +piercing and cold, and swept through the wires overhead with a ceaseless +moaning. The numbness had crept from his feet up over the whole extent +of his little body, and he dropped upon a flight of steps back of a +sailors' boarding-house, and shoved his hands inside of his jacket for +possible warmth. His fingers touched the figure he had hidden there and +closed upon it lightly, and then his head dropped back against the wall, +and he fell into a heavy sleep. The night passed on and grew colder, and +the wind came across the ice-blocked river with shriller, sharper +blasts, but Guido did not hear it. + +"Chuckey" Martin, who blacked boots in front of the corner saloon in +summer and swept out the bar-room in winter, came out through the family +entrance and dumped a pan of hot ashes into the snow-bank, and then +turned into the house with a shiver. He saw a mass of something lying +curled up on the steps of the next house, and remembered it after he had +closed the door of the family entrance behind him and shoved the pan +under the stove. He decided at last that it might be one of the saloon's +customers, or a stray sailor with loose change in his pockets, which he +would not miss when he awoke. So he went out again, and picking Guido +up, brought him in in his arms and laid him out on the floor. + +There were over thirty men in the place; they had been celebrating the +coming of Christmas; and three of them pushed each other out of the way +in their eagerness to pour very bad brandy between Guido's teeth. +"Chuckey" Martin felt a sense of proprietorship in Guido, by the right +of discovery, and resented this, pushing them away, and protesting that +the thing to do was to rub his feet with snow. + +A fat oily chief engineer of an Italian tramp steamer dropped on his +knees beside Guido and beat the boy's hands, and with unsteady fingers +tore open his scarf and jacket, and as he did this the figure of the +plaster Virgin with her hands stretched out looked up at him from its +bed on Guido's chest. + +Some of the sailors drew their hands quickly across their breasts, and +others swore in some alarm, and the bar-keeper drank the glass of +whiskey he had brought for Guido at a gulp, and then readjusted his +apron to show that nothing had disturbed his equanimity. Guido sat up, +with his head against the chief engineer's knees, and opened his eyes, +and his ears were greeted with words in his own tongue. They gave him +hot coffee and hot soup and more brandy, and he told his story in a +burst of words that flowed like a torrent of tears--how he had been +stolen from his home at Genoa, where he used to watch the boats from the +stone pier in front of the custom-house, at which the sailors nodded, +and how the padrone, who was not his uncle, finding he could not black +boots nor sell papers, had given him these plaster casts to sell, and +how he had whipped him when people would not buy them, and how at last +he had tripped, and broken them all except this one hidden in his +breast, and how he had gone to sleep, and he asked now why had they +wakened him, for he had no place to go. + +Guido remembered telling them this, and following them by their +gestures as they retold it to the others in a strange language, and then +the lights began to spin, and the faces grew distant, and he reached out +his hand for the fat chief engineer, and felt his arms tightening around +him. + +A cold wind woke Guido, and the sound of something throbbing and beating +like a great clock. He was very warm and tired and lazy, and when he +raised his head he touched the ceiling close above him, and when he +opened his eyes he found himself in a little room with a square table +covered with oil-cloth in the centre, and rows of beds like shelves +around the walls. The room rose and fell as the streets did when he had +had nothing to eat, and he scrambled out of the warm blankets and +crawled fearfully up a flight of narrow stairs. There was water on +either side of him, beyond and behind him--water blue and white and +dancing in the sun, with great blocks of dirty ice tossing on its +surface. + +And behind him lay the odious city of New York, with its great bridge +and high buildings, and before him the open sea. The chief engineer +crawled up from the engine-room and came towards him, rubbing the +perspiration from his face with a dirty towel. + +"Good-morning," he called out. "You are feeling pretty well?" + +"Yes." + +"It is Christmas day. Do you know where you are going? You are going to +Italy, to Genoa. It is over there," he said, pointing with his finger. +"Go back to your bed and keep warm." + +He picked Guido up in his arms, and ran with him down the companion-way, +and tossed him back into his berth. Then he pointed to the shelf at one +end of the little room, above the sheet-iron stove. The plaster figure +that Guido had wrapped in his breast had been put there and lashed to +its place. + +"That will bring us good luck and a quick voyage," said the chief +engineer. + +Guido lay quite still until the fat engineer had climbed up the +companion-way again and permitted the sunlight to once more enter the +cabin. Then he crawled out of his berth and dropped on his knees, and +raised up his hands to the plaster figure which no one would buy. + + + + +THE REPORTER WHO MADE HIMSELF KING + + +The Old Time Journalist will tell you that the best reporter is the one +who works his way up. He holds that the only way to start is as a +printer's devil or as an office boy, to learn in time to set type, to +graduate from a compositor into a stenographer, and as a stenographer +take down speeches at public meetings, and so finally grow into a real +reporter, with a fire badge on your left suspender, and a speaking +acquaintance with all the greatest men in the city, not even excepting +Police Captains. + +That is the old time journalist's idea of it. That is the way he was +trained, and that is why at the age of sixty he is still a reporter. If +you train up a youth in this way, he will go into reporting with too +full a knowledge of the newspaper business, with no illusions concerning +it, and with no ignorant enthusiasms, but with a keen and justifiable +impression that he is not paid enough for what he does. And he will +only do what he is paid to do. + +Now, you cannot pay a good reporter for what he does, because he does +not work for pay. He works for his paper. He gives his time, his health, +his brains, his sleeping hours, and his eating hours, and sometimes his +life to get news for it. He thinks the sun rises only that men may have +light by which to read it. But if he has been in a newspaper office from +his youth up, he finds out before he becomes a reporter that this is not +so, and loses his real value. He should come right out of the University +where he has been doing "campus notes" for the college weekly, and be +pitchforked out into city work without knowing whether the Battery is at +Harlem or Hunter's Point, and with the idea that he is a Moulder of +Public Opinion and that the Power of the Press is greater than the Power +of Money, and that the few lines he writes are of more value in the +Editor's eyes than is the column of advertising on the last page, which +they are not. After three years--it is sometimes longer, sometimes not +so long--he finds out that he has given his nerves and his youth and his +enthusiasm in exchange for a general fund of miscellaneous knowledge, +the opportunity of personal encounter with all the greatest and most +remarkable men and events that have risen in those three years, and a +great fund of resource and patience. He will find that he has crowded +the experiences of the lifetime of the ordinary young business man, +doctor, or lawyer, or man about town, into three short years; that he +has learned to think and to act quickly, to be patient and unmoved when +every one else has lost his head, actually or figuratively speaking; to +write as fast as another man can talk, and to be able to talk with +authority on matters of which other men do not venture even to think +until they have read what he has written with a copy-boy at his elbow on +the night previous. + +It is necessary for you to know this, that you may understand what +manner of man young Albert Gordon was. + +Young Gordon had been a reporter just three years. He had left Yale when +his last living relative died, and had taken the morning train for New +York, where they had promised him reportorial work on one of the +innumerable Greatest New York Dailies. He arrived at the office at +noon, and was sent back over the same road on which he had just come, to +Spuyten Duyvil, where a train had been wrecked and everybody of +consequence to suburban New York killed. One of the old reporters +hurried him to the office again with his "copy," and after he had +delivered that, he was sent to the Tombs to talk French to a man in +Murderer's Row, who could not talk anything else, but who had shown some +international skill in the use of a jimmy. And at eight, he covered a +flower-show in Madison Square Garden; and at eleven was sent over the +Brooklyn Bridge in a cab to watch a fire and make guesses at the losses +to the insurance companies. + +He went to bed at one, and dreamed of shattered locomotives, human +beings lying still with blankets over them, rows of cells, and banks of +beautiful flowers nodding their heads to the tunes of the brass band in +the gallery. He decided when he awoke the next morning that he had +entered upon a picturesque and exciting career, and as one day followed +another, he became more and more convinced of it, and more and more +devoted to it. He was twenty then, and he was now twenty-three, and in +that time had become a great reporter, and had been to Presidential +conventions in Chicago, revolutions in Hayti, Indian outbreaks on the +Plains, and midnight meetings of moonlighters in Tennessee, and had seen +what work earthquakes, floods, fire, and fever could do in great cities, +and had contradicted the President, and borrowed matches from burglars. +And now he thought he would like to rest and breathe a bit, and not to +work again unless as a war correspondent. The only obstacle to his +becoming a great war correspondent lay in the fact that there was no +war, and a war correspondent without a war is about as absurd an +individual as a general without an army. He read the papers every +morning on the elevated trains for war clouds; but though there were +many war clouds, they always drifted apart, and peace smiled again. This +was very disappointing to young Gordon, and he became more and more +keenly discouraged. + +And then as war work was out of the question, he decided to write his +novel. It was to be a novel of New York life, and he wanted a quiet +place in which to work on it. He was already making inquiries among the +suburban residents of his acquaintance for just such a quiet spot, when +he received an offer to go to the Island of Opeki in the North Pacific +Ocean, as secretary to the American consul to that place. The gentleman +who had been appointed by the President to act as consul at Opeki, was +Captain Leonard T. Travis, a veteran of the Civil War, who had +contracted a severe attack of rheumatism while camping out at night in +the dew, and who on account of this souvenir of his efforts to save the +Union had allowed the Union he had saved to support him in one office or +another ever since. He had met young Gordon at a dinner, and had had the +presumption to ask him to serve as his secretary, and Gordon, much to +his surprise, had accepted his offer. The idea of a quiet life in the +tropics with new and beautiful surroundings, and with nothing to do and +plenty of time in which to do it, and to write his novel besides, seemed +to Albert to be just what he wanted; and though he did not know nor care +much for his superior officer, he agreed to go with him promptly, and +proceeded to say good-by to his friends and to make his preparations. +Captain Travis was so delighted with getting such a clever young +gentleman for his secretary, that he referred to him to his friends as +"my attaché of legation;" nor did he lessen that gentleman's dignity by +telling any one that the attaché's salary was to be five hundred dollars +a year. His own salary was only fifteen hundred dollars; and though his +brother-in-law, Senator Rainsford, tried his best to get the amount +raised, he was unsuccessful. The consulship to Opeki was instituted +early in the '50's, to get rid of and reward a third or fourth cousin of +the President's, whose services during the campaign were important, but +whose after-presence was embarrassing. He had been created consul to +Opeki as being more distant and unaccessible than any other known spot, +and had lived and died there; and so little was known of the island, and +so difficult was communication with it, that no one knew he was dead, +until Captain Travis, in his hungry haste for office, had uprooted the +sad fact. Captain Travis, as well as Albert, had a secondary reason for +wishing to visit Opeki. His physician had told him to go to some warm +climate for his rheumatism, and in accepting the consulship his object +was rather to follow out his doctor's orders at his country's expense, +than to serve his country at the expense of his rheumatism. + +Albert could learn but very little of Opeki; nothing, indeed, but that +it was situated about one hundred miles from the Island of Octavia, +which island, in turn, was simply described as a coaling-station three +hundred miles distant from the coast of California. Steamers from San +Francisco to Yokohama stopped every third week at Octavia, and that was +all that either Captain Travis or his secretary could learn of their new +home. This was so very little, that Albert stipulated to stay only as +long as he liked it, and to return to the States within a few months if +he found such a change of plan desirable. + +As he was going to what was an almost undiscovered country, he thought +it would be advisable to furnish himself with a supply of articles with +which he might trade with the native Opekians, and for this purpose he +purchased a large quantity of brass rods, because he had read that +Stanley did so, and added to these, brass curtain chains and about two +hundred leaden medals similar to those sold by street pedlers during +the Constitutional Centennial celebration in New York City. + +He also collected even more beautiful but less expensive decorations for +Christmas trees, at a wholesale house on Park Row. These he hoped to +exchange for furs or feathers or weapons, or for whatever other curious +and valuable trophies the Island of Opeki boasted. He already pictured +his rooms on his return hung fantastically with crossed spears and +boomerangs, feather head-dresses, and ugly idols. + +His friends told him that he was doing a very foolish thing, and argued +that once out of the newspaper world, it would be hard to regain his +place in it. But he thought the novel that he would write while lost to +the world at Opeki would serve to make up for his temporary absence from +it, and he expressly and impressively stipulated that the editor should +wire him if there was a war. + +Captain Travis and his secretary crossed the continent without +adventure, and took passage from San Francisco on the first steamer that +touched at Octavia. They reached that island in three days, and learned +with some concern that there was no regular communication with Opeki, +and that it would be necessary to charter a sailboat for the trip. Two +fishermen agreed to take them and their trunks, and to get them to their +destination within sixteen hours if the wind held good. It was a most +unpleasant sail. The rain fell with calm, relentless persistence from +what was apparently a clear sky; the wind tossed the waves as high as +the mast and made Captain Travis ill; and as there was no deck to the +big boat, they were forced to huddle up under pieces of canvas, and +talked but little. Captain Travis complained of frequent twinges of +rheumatism, and gazed forlornly over the gunwale at the empty waste of +water. + +"If I've got to serve a term of imprisonment on a rock in the middle of +the ocean for four years," he said, "I might just as well have done +something first to deserve it. This is a pretty way to treat a man who +bled for his country. This is gratitude, this is." Albert pulled heavily +on his pipe, and wiped the rain and spray from his face and smiled. + +"Oh, it won't be so bad when we get there," he said; "they say these +Southern people are always hospitable, and the whites will be glad to +see any one from the States." + +"There will be a round of diplomatic dinners," said the consul, with an +attempt at cheerfulness. "I have brought two uniforms to wear at them." + +It was seven o'clock in the evening when the rain ceased, and one of the +black, half-naked fishermen nodded and pointed at a little low line on +the horizon. + +"Opeki," he said. The line grew in length until it proved to be an +island with great mountains rising to the clouds, and as they drew +nearer and nearer, showed a level coast running back to the foot of the +mountains and covered with a forest of palms. They next made out a +village of thatched huts around a grassy square, and at some distance +from the village a wooden structure with a tin roof. + +"I wonder where the town is," asked the consul, with a nervous glance at +the fishermen. One of them told him that what he saw was the town. + +"That?" gasped the consul. "Is that where all the people on the island +live?" + +The fisherman nodded; but the other added that there were other natives +further back in the mountains, but that they were bad men who fought and +ate each other. The consul and his attaché of legation gazed at the +mountains with unspoken misgivings. They were quite near now, and could +see an immense crowd of men and women, all of them black, and clad but +in the simplest garments, waiting to receive them. They seemed greatly +excited and ran in and out of the huts, and up and down the beach, as +wildly as so many black ants. But in the front of the group they +distinguished three men who they could see were white, though they were +clothed, like the others, simply in a shirt and a short pair of +trousers. Two of these three suddenly sprang away on a run and +disappeared among the palm-trees; but the third one, when he recognized +the American flag in the halyards, threw his straw hat in the water and +began turning handsprings over the sand. + +"That young gentleman, at least," said Albert, gravely, "seems pleased +to see us." + +A dozen of the natives sprang into the water and came wading and +swimming towards them, grinning and shouting and swinging their arms. + +"I don't think it's quite safe, do you?" said the consul, looking out +wildly to the open sea. "You see, they don't know who I am." + +A great black giant threw one arm over the gunwale and shouted something +that sounded as if it were spelt Owah, Owah, as the boat carried him +through the surf. + +"How do you do?" said Gordon, doubtfully. The boat shook the giant off +under the wave and beached itself so suddenly that the American consul +was thrown forward to his knees. Gordon did not wait to pick him up, but +jumped out and shook hands with the young man who had turned +handsprings, while the natives gathered about them in a circle and +chatted and laughed in delighted excitement. + +"I'm awful glad to see you," said the young man, eagerly. "My name's +Stedman. I'm from New Haven, Connecticut. Where are you from?" + +"New York," said Albert. "This," he added, pointing solemnly to Captain +Travis, who was still on his knees in the boat, "is the American consul +to Opeki." The American consul to Opeki gave a wild look at Mr. Stedman +of New Haven and at the natives. + +"See here, young man," he gasped, "is this all there is of Opeki?" + +"The American consul?" said young Stedman, with a gasp of amazement, and +looking from Albert to Captain Travis. "Why, I never supposed they would +send another here; the last one died about fifteen years ago, and there +hasn't been one since. I've been living in the consul's office with the +Bradleys, but I'll move out, of course. I'm sure I'm awfully glad to see +you. It'll make it so much more pleasant for me." + +"Yes," said Captain Travis, bitterly, as he lifted his rheumatic leg +over the boat; "that's why we came." + +Mr. Stedman did not notice this. He was too much pleased to be anything +but hospitable. "You are soaking wet, aren't you?" he said; "and hungry, +I guess. You come right over to the consul's office and get on some +other things." + +He turned to the natives and gave some rapid orders in their language, +and some of them jumped into the boat at this, and began to lift out +the trunks, and others ran off towards a large, stout old native, who +was sitting gravely on a log, smoking, with the rain beating unnoticed +on his gray hair. + +"They've gone to tell the King," said Stedman; "but you'd better get +something to eat first, and then I'll be happy to present you properly." + +"The King," said Captain Travis, with some awe; "is there a king?" + +"I never saw a king," Gordon remarked, "and I'm sure I never expected to +see one sitting on a log in the rain." + +"He's a very good king," said Stedman, confidentially; "and though you +mightn't think it to look at him, he's a terrible stickler for etiquette +and form. After supper he'll give you an audience; and if you have any +tobacco, you had better give him some as a present, and you'd better say +it's from the President: he doesn't like to take presents from common +people, he's so proud. The only reason he borrows mine is because he +thinks I'm the President's son." + +"What makes him think that?" demanded the consul, with some shortness. +Young Mr. Stedman looked nervously at the consul and at Albert, and +said that he guessed some one must have told him. + +The consul's office was divided into four rooms with an open court in +the middle, filled with palms, and watered somewhat unnecessarily by a +fountain. + +"I made that," said Stedman, in a modest off-hand way. "I made it out of +hollow bamboo reeds connected with a spring. And now I'm making one for +the King. He saw this and had a lot of bamboo sticks put up all over the +town, without any underground connections, and couldn't make out why the +water wouldn't spurt out of them. And because mine spurts, he thinks I'm +a magician." + +"I suppose," grumbled the consul, "some one told him that too." + +"I suppose so," said Mr. Stedman, uneasily. + +There was a veranda around the consul's office, and inside the walls +were hung with skins, and pictures from illustrated papers, and there +was a good deal of bamboo furniture, and four broad, cool-looking beds. +The place was as clean as a kitchen. "I made the furniture," said +Stedman, "and the Bradleys keep the place in order." + +"Who are the Bradleys?" asked Albert. + +"The Bradleys are those two men you saw with me," said Stedman; "they +deserted from a British man-of-war that stopped here for coal, and they +act as my servants. One is Bradley, Sr., and the other, Bradley, Jr." + +"Then vessels do stop here occasionally?" the consul said, with a +pleased smile. + +"Well, not often," said Stedman. "Not so very often; about once a year. +The _Nelson_ thought this was Octavia, and put off again as soon as she +found out her mistake, but the Bradleys took to the bush, and the boat's +crew couldn't find them. When they saw your flag, they thought you might +mean to send them back, so they ran off to hide again: they'll be back, +though, when they get hungry." + +The supper young Stedman spread for his guests, as he still treated +them, was very refreshing and very good. There was cold fish and pigeon +pie, and a hot omelet filled with mushrooms and olives and tomatoes and +onions all sliced up together, and strong black coffee. After supper, +Stedman went off to see the King, and came back in a little while to say +that his Majesty would give them an audience the next day after +breakfast. "It is too dark now," Stedman explained; "and it's raining so +that they can't make the street lamps burn. Did you happen to notice our +lamps? I invented them; but they don't work very well yet. I've got the +right idea, though, and I'll soon have the town illuminated all over, +whether it rains or not." + +The consul had been very silent and indifferent, during supper, to all +around him. Now he looked up with some show of interest. + +"How much longer is it going to rain, do you think?" he asked. + +"Oh, I don't know," said Stedman, critically. "Not more than two months, +I should say." The consul rubbed his rheumatic leg and sighed, but said +nothing. + +The Bradleys returned about ten o'clock, and came in very sheepishly. +The consul had gone off to pay the boatmen who had brought them, and +Albert in his absence assured the sailor's that there was not the least +danger of their being sent away. Then he turned into one of the beds, +and Stedman took one in another room, leaving the room he had occupied +heretofore for the consul. As he was saying good-night, Albert suggested +that he had not yet told them how he came to be on a deserted island; +but Stedman only laughed and said that that was a long story, and that +he would tell him all about it in the morning. So Albert went off to bed +without waiting for the consul to return, and fell asleep, wondering at +the strangeness of his new life, and assuring himself that if the rain +only kept up, he would have his novel finished in a month. + +The sun was shining brightly when he awoke, and the palm-trees outside +were nodding gracefully in a warm breeze. From the court came the odor +of strange flowers, and from the window he could see the ocean +brilliantly blue, and with the sun coloring the spray that beat against +the coral reefs on the shore. + +"Well, the consul can't complain of this," he said, with a laugh of +satisfaction; and pulling on a bath-robe, he stepped into the next room +to awaken Captain Travis. But the room was quite empty, and the bed +undisturbed. The consul's trunk remained just where it had been placed +near the door, and on it lay a large sheet of foolscap, with writing on +it, and addressed at the top to Albert Gordon. The handwriting was the +consul's. Albert picked it up and read it with much anxiety. It began +abruptly:-- + + * * * * * + +"The fishermen who brought us to this forsaken spot tell me that it +rains here six months in the year, and that this is the first month. I +came here to serve my country, for which I fought and bled, but I did +not come here to die of rheumatism and pneumonia. I can serve my country +better by staying alive; and whether it rains or not, I don't like it. I +have been grossly deceived, and I am going back. Indeed, by the time you +get this, I will be on my return trip, as I intend leaving with the men +who brought us here as soon as they can get the sail up. My cousin, +Senator Rainsford, can fix it all right with the President, and can have +me recalled in proper form after I get back. But of course it would not +do for me to leave my post with no one to take my place, and no one +could be more ably fitted to do so than yourself; so I feel no +compunctions at leaving you behind. I hereby, therefore, accordingly +appoint you my substitute with full power to act, to collect all fees, +sign all papers, and attend to all matters pertaining to your office as +American consul, and I trust you will worthily uphold the name of that +country and government which it has always been my pleasure and duty to +serve. + +"Your sincere friend and superior officer, + +"LEONARD T. TRAVIS. + +"P.S. I did not care to disturb you by moving my trunk, so I left it, +and you can make what use you please of whatever it contains, as I shall +not want tropical garments where I am going. What you will need most, I +think, is a waterproof and umbrella. + +"P.S. Look out for that young man Stedman. He is too inventive. I hope +you will like your high office; but as for myself, I am satisfied with +little old New York. Opeki is just a bit too far from civilization to +suit me." + + * * * * * + +Albert held the letter before him and read it over again before he +moved. Then he jumped to the window. The boat was gone, and there was +not a sign of it on the horizon. + +"The miserable old hypocrite!" he cried, half angry and half laughing. +"If he thinks I am going to stay here alone he is very greatly mistaken. +And yet, why not?" he asked. He stopped soliloquizing and looked around +him, thinking rapidly. As he stood there, Stedman came in from the other +room, fresh and smiling from his morning's bath. + +"Good morning," he said, "where's the consul?" + +"The consul," said Albert, gravely, "is before you. In me you see the +American consul to Opeki. + +"Captain Travis," Albert explained, "has returned to the United States. +I suppose he feels that he can best serve his country by remaining on +the spot. In case of another war, now, for instance, he would be there +to save it again." + +"And what are you going to do?" asked Stedman, anxiously. "You will not +run away too, will you?" + +Albert said that he intended to remain where he was and perform his +consular duties, to appoint him his secretary, and to elevate the United +States in the opinion of the Opekians above all other nations. + +"They may not think much of the United States in England," he said; "but +we are going to teach the people of Opeki that America is first on the +map, and that there is no second." + +"I'm sure it's very good of you to make me your secretary," said +Stedman, with some pride. "I hope I won't make any mistakes. What are +the duties of a consul's secretary?" + +"That," said Albert, "I do not know. But you are rather good at +inventing, so you can invent a few. That should be your first duty and +you should attend to it at once. I will have trouble enough finding work +for myself. Your salary is five hundred dollars a year; and now," he +continued, briskly, "we want to prepare for this reception. We can tell +the King that Travis was just a guard of honor for the trip, and that I +have sent him back to tell the President of my safe arrival. That will +keep the President from getting anxious. There is nothing," continued +Albert, "like a uniform to impress people who live in the tropics, and +Travis, it so happens, has two in his trunk. He intended to wear them +on State occasions, and as I inherit the trunk and all that is in it, I +intend to wear one of the uniforms, and you can have the other. But I +have first choice, because I am consul." + +Captain Travis's consular outfit consisted of one full dress and one +undress United States uniform. Albert put on the dress-coat over a pair +of white flannel trousers, and looked remarkably brave and handsome. +Stedman, who was only eighteen and quite thin, did not appear so well, +until Albert suggested his padding out his chest and shoulders with +towels. This made him rather warm, but helped his general appearance. + +"The two Bradleys must dress up, too," said Albert. "I think they ought +to act as a guard of honor, don't you? The only things I have are +blazers and jerseys; but it doesn't much matter what they wear, as long +as they dress alike." + +He accordingly called in the two Bradleys, and gave them each a pair of +the captain's rejected white duck trousers, and a blue jersey apiece, +with a big white Y on it. + +"The students of Yale gave me that," he said to the younger Bradley, "in +which to play football, and a great man gave me the other. His name is +Walter Camp; and if you rip or soil that jersey, I'll send you back to +England in irons; so be careful." + +Stedman gazed at his companions in their different costumes, doubtfully. +"It reminds me," he said, "of private theatricals. Of the time our +church choir played 'Pinafore.'" + +"Yes," assented Albert; "but I don't think we look quite gay enough. I +tell you what we need,--medals. You never saw a diplomat without a lot +of decorations and medals." + +"Well, I can fix that," Stedman said. "I've got a trunk-full. I used to +be the fastest bicycle-rider in Connecticut, and I've got all my prizes +with me." + +Albert said doubtfully that that wasn't exactly the sort of medal he +meant. + +"Perhaps not," returned Stedman, as he began fumbling in his trunk; "but +the King won't know the difference. He couldn't tell a cross of the +Legion of Honor from a medal for the tug of war." + +So the bicycle medals, of which Stedman seemed to have an innumerable +quantity, were strung in profusion over Albert's uniform, and in a +lesser quantity over Stedman's; while a handful of leaden ones, those +sold on the streets for the Constitutional Centennial, with which +Albert had provided himself, were wrapped up in a red silk handkerchief +for presentation to the King: with them Albert placed a number of brass +rods and brass chains, much to Stedman's delighted approval. + +"That is a very good idea," he said. "Democratic simplicity is the right +thing at home, of course; but when you go abroad and mix with crowned +heads, you want to show them that you know what's what." + +"Well," said Albert, gravely, "I sincerely hope this crowned head don't +know what's what. If he reads 'Connecticut Agricultural State Fair. One +mile bicycle race. First Prize,' on this badge, when we are trying to +make him believe it's a war medal, it may hurt his feelings." + +Bradley, Jr., went ahead to announce the approach of the American +embassy, which he did with so much manner that the King deferred the +audience a half-hour, in order that he might better prepare to receive +his visitors. When the audience did take place, it attracted the entire +population to the green spot in front of the King's palace, and their +delight and excitement over the appearance of the visitors was sincere +and hearty. The King was too polite to appear much surprised, but he +showed his delight over his presents as simply and openly as a child. +Thrice he insisted on embracing Albert, and kissing him three times on +the forehead, which, Stedman assured him in a side whisper, was a great +honor; an honor which was not extended to the secretary, although he was +given a necklace of animals' claws instead, with which he was better +satisfied. + +After this reception, the embassy marched back to the consul's office, +surrounded by an immense number of the natives, some of whom ran ahead +and looked back at them, and crowded so close that the two Bradleys had +to poke at those nearest with their guns. The crowd remained outside the +office even after the procession of four had disappeared, and cheered. +This suggested to Gordon that this would be a good time to make a +speech, which he accordingly did, Stedman translating it, sentence by +sentence. At the conclusion of this effort, Albert distributed a number +of brass rings among the married men present, which they placed on +whichever finger fitted best, and departed delighted. + +Albert had wished to give the rings to the married women, but Stedman +pointed out to him that it would be much cheaper to give them to the +married men; for while one woman could only have one husband, one man +could have at least six wives. + +"And now, Stedman," said Albert, after the mob had gone, "tell me what +you are doing on this island." + +"It's a very simple story," Stedman said. "I am the representative, or +agent, or operator, for the Yokohama Cable Company. The Yokohama Cable +Company is a company organized in San Francisco, for the purpose of +laying a cable to Yokohama. It is a stock company; and though it started +out very well, the stock has fallen very low. Between ourselves, it is +not worth over three or four cents. When the officers of the company +found out that no one would buy their stock, and that no one believed in +them or their scheme, they laid a cable to Octavia, and extended it on +to this island. Then they said they had run out of ready money, and +would wait until they got more before laying their cable any further. I +do not think they ever will lay it any further, but that is none of my +business. My business is to answer cable messages from San Francisco, so +that the people who visit the home office can see that at least a part +of the cable is working. That sometimes impresses them, and they buy +stock. There is another chap over in Octavia, who relays all my messages +and all my replies to those messages that come to me through him from +San Francisco. They never send a message unless they have brought some +one to the office whom they want to impress, and who, they think, has +money to invest in the Y.C.C. stock, and so we never go near the wire, +except at three o'clock every afternoon. And then generally only to say +'How are you?' or 'It's raining,' or something like that. I've been +saying 'It's raining' now for the last three months, but to-day I will +say that the new consul has arrived. That will be a pleasant surprise +for the chap in Octavia, for he must be tired hearing about the weather. +He generally answers, 'Here too,' or 'So you said,' or something like +that. I don't know what he says to the home office. He's brighter than I +am, and that's why they put him between the two ends. He can see that +the messages are transmitted more fully and more correctly, in a way to +please possible subscribers." + +"Sort of copy editor," suggested Albert. + +"Yes, something of that sort, I fancy," said Stedman. + +They walked down to the little shed on the shore, where the Y.C.C. +office was placed, at three that day, and Albert watched Stedman send +off his message with much interest. The "chap at Octavia," on being +informed that the American consul had arrived at Opeki, inquired, +somewhat disrespectfully, "Is it a life sentence?" + +"What does he mean by that?" asked Albert. + +"I suppose," said his secretary, doubtfully, "that he thinks it a sort +of a punishment to be sent to Opeki. I hope you won't grow to think so." + +"Opeki is all very well," said Gordon, "or it will be when we get things +going our way." + +As they walked back to the office, Albert noticed a brass cannon, +perched on a rock at the entrance to the harbor. This had been put +there by the last consul, but it had not been fired for many years. +Albert immediately ordered the two Bradleys to get it in order, and to +rig up a flag-pole beside it, for one of his American flags, which they +were to salute every night when they lowered it at sundown. + +"And when we are not using it," he said, "the King can borrow it to +celebrate with, if he doesn't impose on us too often. The royal salute +ought to be twenty-one guns, I think; but that would use up too much +powder, so he will have to content himself with two." + +"Did you notice," asked Stedman that night, as they sat on the veranda +of the consul's house, in the moonlight, "how the people bowed to us as +we passed?" + +"Yes," Albert said he had noticed it. "Why?" + +"Well, they never saluted me," replied Stedman. "That sign of respect is +due to the show we made at the reception." + +"It is due to us, in any event," said the consul, severely. "I tell you, +my secretary, that we, as the representatives of the United States +government, must be properly honored on this island. We must become a +power. And we must do so without getting into trouble with the King. We +must make them honor him, too, and then as we push him up, we will push +ourselves up at the same time." + +"They don't think much of consuls in Opeki," said Stedman, doubtfully. +"You see the last one was a pretty poor sort. He brought the office into +disrepute, and it wasn't really until I came and told them what a fine +country the United States was, that they had any opinion of it at all. +Now we must change all that." + +"That is just what we will do," said Albert. "We will transform Opeki +into a powerful and beautiful city. We will make these people work. They +must put up a palace for the King, and lay out streets, and build +wharves, and drain the town properly, and light it. I haven't seen this +patent lighting apparatus of yours, but you had better get to work at it +at once, and I'll persuade the King to appoint you commissioner of +highways and gas, with authority to make his people toil. And I," he +cried, in free enthusiasm, "will organize a navy and a standing army. +Only," he added, with a relapse of interest, "there isn't anybody to +fight." + +"There isn't?" said Stedman, grimly, with a scornful smile. "You just +go hunt up old Messenwah and the Hillmen with your standing army once, +and you'll get all the fighting you want." + +"The Hillmen?" said Albert. + +"The Hillmen are the natives that live up there in the hills," Stedman +said, nodding his head towards the three high mountains at the other end +of the island, that stood out blackly against the purple, moonlit sky. +"There are nearly as many of them as there are Opekians, and they hunt +and fight for a living and for the pleasure of it. They have an old +rascal named Messenwah for a king, and they come down here about once +every three months, and tear things up." + +Albert sprang to his feet. + +"Oh, they do, do they?" he said, staring up at the mountain tops. "They +come down here and tear up things, do they? Well, I think we'll stop +that, I think we'll stop that! I don't care how many there are. I'll get +the two Bradleys to tell me all they know about drilling, to-morrow +morning, and we'll drill these Opekians, and have sham battles, and +attacks, and repulses, until I make a lot of wild, howling Zulus out of +them. And when the Hillmen come down to pay their quarterly visit, +they'll go back again on a run. At least some of them will," he added +ferociously. "Some of them will stay right here." + +"Dear me, dear me!" said Stedman, with awe; "you are a born fighter, +aren't you?" + +"Well, you wait and see," said Gordon; "may be I am. I haven't studied +tactics of war and the history of battles, so that I might be a great +war correspondent, without learning something. And there is only one +king on this island, and that is old Ollypybus himself. And I'll go over +and have a talk with him about it to-morrow." + +Young Stedman walked up and down the length of the veranda, in and out +of the moonlight, with his hands in his pockets, and his head on his +chest. "You have me all stirred up, Gordon," he said; "you seem so +confident and bold, and you're not so much older than I am, either." + +"My training has been different; that's all," said the reporter. + +"Yes," Stedman said bitterly; "I have been sitting in an office ever +since I left school, sending news over a wire or a cable, and you have +been out in the world, gathering it." + +"And now," said Gordon, smiling, and putting his arm around the other +boy's shoulders, "we are going to make news ourselves." + +"There is one thing I want to say to you before you turn in," said +Stedman. "Before you suggest all these improvements on Ollypybus, you +must remember that he has ruled absolutely here for twenty years, and +that he does not think much of consuls. He has only seen your +predecessor and yourself. He likes you because you appeared with such +dignity, and because of the presents; but if I were you, I wouldn't +suggest these improvements as coming from yourself." + +"I don't understand," said Gordon; "who could they come from?" + +"Well," said Stedman, "if you will allow me to advise,--and you see I +know these people pretty well,--I would have all these suggestions come +from the President direct." + +"The President!" exclaimed Gordon; "but how? what does the President +know or care about Opeki? and it would take so long--oh, I see, the +cable. Is that what you have been doing?" he asked. + +"Well, only once," said Stedman, guiltily; "that was when he wanted to +turn me out of the consul's office, and I had a cable that very +afternoon, from the President, ordering me to stay where I was. +Ollypybus doesn't understand the cable, of course, but he knows that it +sends messages; and sometimes I pretend to send messages for him to the +President; but he began asking me to tell the President to come and pay +him a visit, and I had to stop it." + +"I'm glad you told me," said Gordon. "The President shall begin to cable +to-morrow. He will need an extra appropriation from Congress to pay for +his private cablegrams alone." + +"And there's another thing," said Stedman. "In all your plans, you've +arranged for the people's improvement, but not for their amusement; and +they are a peaceful, jolly, simple sort of people, and we must please +them." + +"Have they no games or amusements of their own?" asked Gordon. + +"Well, not what we would call games." + +"Very well, then, I'll teach them base-ball. Foot-ball would be too +warm. But that plaza in front of the King's bungalow, where his palace +is going to be, is just the place for a diamond. On the whole, though," +added the consul, after a moment's reflection, "you'd better attend to +that yourself. I don't think it becomes my dignity as American consul to +take off my coat and give lessons to young Opekians in sliding to bases; +do you? No; I think you'd better do that. The Bradleys will help you, +and you had better begin to-morrow. You have been wanting to know what a +secretary of legation's duties are, and now you know. It's to organize +base-ball nines. And after you get yours ready," he added, as he turned +into his room for the night, "I'll train one that will sweep yours off +the face of the island. For _this_ American consul can pitch three +curves." + +The best-laid plans of men go far astray, sometimes, and the great and +beautiful city that was to rise on the coast of Opeki was not built in a +day. Nor was it ever built. For before the Bradleys could mark out the +foul-lines for the base-ball field on the plaza, or teach their standing +army the goose step, or lay bamboo pipes for the water-mains, or clear +away the cactus for the extension of the King's palace, the Hillmen paid +Opeki their quarterly visit. + +Albert had called on the King the next morning, with Stedman as his +interpreter, as he had said he would, and, with maps and sketches, had +shown his Majesty what he proposed to do towards improving Opeki and +ennobling her king, and when the King saw Albert's free-hand sketches of +wharves with tall ships lying at anchor, and rows of Opekian warriors +with the Bradleys at their head, and the design for his new palace, and +a royal sedan-chair, he believed that these things were already his, and +not still only on paper, and he appointed Albert his Minister of War, +Stedman his Minister of Home Affairs, and selected two of his wisest and +oldest subjects to serve them as joint advisers. His enthusiasm was even +greater than Gordon's, because he did not appreciate the difficulties. +He thought Gordon a semi-god, a worker of miracles, and urged the +putting up of a monument to him at once in the public plaza, to which +Albert objected, on the ground that it would be too suggestive of an +idol; and to which Stedman also objected, but for the less unselfish +reason that it would "be in the way of the pitcher's box." + +They were feverishly discussing all these great changes, and Stedman was +translating as rapidly as he could translate, the speeches of four +different men,--for the two counsellors had been called in, all of whom +wanted to speak at once,--when there came from outside a great shout, +and the screams of women, and the clashing of iron, and the pattering +footsteps of men running. + +As they looked at one another in startled surprise, a native ran into +the room, followed by Bradley, Jr., and threw himself down before the +King. While he talked, beating his hands and bowing before Ollypybus, +Bradley, Jr., pulled his forelock to the consul, and told how this man +lived on the far outskirts of the village; how he had been captured +while out hunting, by a number of the Hillmen; and how he had escaped to +tell the people that their old enemies were on the war path again, and +rapidly approaching the village. + +Outside, the women were gathering in the plaza, with the children about +them, and the men were running from hut to hut, warning their fellows, +and arming themselves with spears and swords, and the native bows and +arrows. + +"They might have waited until we had that army trained," said Gordon, in +a tone of the keenest displeasure. "Tell me, quick, what do they +generally do when they come?" + +"Steal all the cattle and goats, and a woman or two, and set fire to the +huts in the outskirts," replied Stedman. + +"Well, we must stop them," said Gordon, jumping up. "We must take out a +flag of truce and treat with them. They must be kept off until I have my +army in working order. It is most inconvenient. If they had only waited +two months, now, or six weeks even, we could have done something; but +now we must make peace. Tell the King we are going out to fix things +with them, and tell him to keep off his warriors until he learns whether +we succeed or fail." + +"But, Gordon!" gasped Stedman. "Albert! You don't understand. Why, man, +this isn't a street fight or a cane rush. They'll stick you full of +spears, dance on your body, and eat you, maybe. A flag of truce!--you're +talking nonsense. What do they know of a flag of truce?" + +"You're talking nonsense, too," said Albert, "and you're talking to your +superior officer. If you are not with me in this, go back to your cable, +and tell the man in Octavia that it's a warm day, and that the sun is +shining; but if you've any spirit in you,--and I think you have,--run to +the office and get my Winchester rifles, and the two shot guns, and my +revolvers, and my uniform, and a lot of brass things for presents, and +run all the way there and back. And make time. Play you're riding a +bicycle at the Agricultural Fair." + +Stedman did not hear this last; for he was already off and away, pushing +through the crowd, and calling on Bradley, Sr., to follow him. Bradley, +Jr., looked at Gordon with eyes that snapped, like a dog that is waiting +for his master to throw a stone. + +"I can fire a Winchester, sir," he said. "Old Tom can't. He's no good at +long range 'cept with a big gun, sir. Don't give him the Winchester. +Give it to me, please, sir." + +Albert met Stedman in the plaza, and pulled off his blazer, and put on +Captain Travis's--now his--uniform coat, and his white pith helmet. + +"Now, Jack," he said, "get up there and tell these people that we are +going out to make peace with these Hillmen, or bring them back prisoners +of war. Tell them we are the preservers of their homes and wives and +children; and you, Bradley, take these presents, and young Bradley, keep +close to me, and carry this rifle." + +Stedman's speech was hot and wild enough to suit a critical and feverish +audience before a barricade in Paris. And when he was through, Gordon +and Bradley punctuated his oration by firing off the two Winchester +rifles in the air, at which the people jumped and fell on their knees, +and prayed to their several gods. The fighting men of the village +followed the four white men to the outskirts, and took up their stand +there as Stedman told them to do, and the four walked on over the +roughly hewn road, to meet the enemy. + +Gordon walked with Bradley, Jr., in advance. Stedman and old Tom Bradley +followed close behind, with the two shot-guns, and the presents in a +basket. + +"Are these Hillmen used to guns?" asked Gordon. Stedman said no, they +were not. + +"This shot-gun of mine is the only one on the island," he explained, +"and we never came near enough them, before, to do anything with it. It +only carries a hundred yards. The Opekians never make any show of +resistance. They are quite content if the Hillmen satisfy themselves +with the outlying huts, as long as they leave them and the town alone; +so they seldom come to close quarters." + +The four men walked on for a half an hour or so, in silence, peering +eagerly on every side; but it was not until they had left the woods and +marched out into the level stretch of grassy country, that they came +upon the enemy. The Hillmen were about forty in number, and were as +savage and ugly-looking giants as any in a picture book. They had +captured a dozen cows and goats, and were driving them on before them, +as they advanced further upon the village. When they saw the four men, +they gave a mixed chorus of cries and yells, and some of them stopped, +and others ran forward, shaking their spears, and shooting their broad +arrows into the ground before them. A tall, gray-bearded, muscular old +man, with a skirt of feathers about him, and necklaces of bones and +animals' claws around his bare chest, ran in front of them, and seemed +to be trying to make them approach more slowly. + +"Is that Messenwah?" asked Gordon. + +"Yes," said Stedman; "he is trying to keep them back. I don't believe he +ever saw a white man before." + +"Stedman," said Albert, speaking quickly, "give your gun to Bradley, and +go forward with your arms in the air, and waving your handkerchief, and +tell them in their language that the King is coming. If they go at you, +Bradley and I will kill a goat or two, to show them what we can do with +the rifles; and if that don't stop them, we will shoot at their legs; +and if that don't stop them--I guess you'd better come back, and we'll +all run." + +Stedman looked at Albert, and Albert looked at Stedman, and neither of +them winced or flinched. + +"Is this another of my secretary's duties?" asked the younger boy. + +"Yes," said the consul; "but a resignation is always in order. You +needn't go if you don't like it. You see, you know the language and I +don't, but I know how to shoot, and you don't." + +"That's perfectly satisfactory," said Stedman, handing his gun to old +Bradley. "I only wanted to know why I was to be sacrificed, instead of +one of the Bradleys. It's because I know the language. Bradley, Sr., you +see the evil results of a higher education. Wish me luck, please," he +said, "and for goodness' sake," he added impressively, "don't waste much +time shooting goats." + +The Hillmen had stopped about two hundred yards off, and were drawn up +in two lines, shouting, and dancing, and hurling taunting remarks at +their few adversaries. The stolen cattle were bunched together back of +the King. As Stedman walked steadily forward with his handkerchief +fluttering, and howling out something in their own tongue, they stopped +and listened. As he advanced, his three companions followed him at about +fifty yards in the rear. He was one hundred and fifty yards from the +Hillmen, before they made out what he said, and then one of the young +braves, resenting it as an insult to his chief, shot an arrow at him. +Stedman dodged the arrow, and stood his ground without even taking a +step backwards, only turning slightly to put his hands to his mouth, and +to shout something which sounded to his companions like, "About time to +begin on the goats." But the instant the young man had fired, King +Messenwah swung his club and knocked him down, and none of the others +moved. Then Messenwah advanced before his men to meet Stedman, and on +Stedman's opening and shutting his hands to show that he was unarmed, +the King threw down his club and spears, and came forward as +empty-handed as himself. + +"Ah," gasped Bradley, Jr., with his finger trembling on his lever, "let +me take a shot at him now." Gordon struck the man's gun up, and walked +forward in all the glory of his gold and blue uniform; for both he and +Stedman saw now that Messenwah was more impressed by their appearance, +and in the fact that they were white men, than with any threats of +immediate war. So when he saluted Gordon haughtily, that young man gave +him a haughty nod in return, and bade Stedman tell the King that he +would permit him to sit down. The King did not quite appear to like +this, but he sat down, nevertheless, and nodded his head gravely. + +"Now tell him," said Gordon, "that I come from the ruler of the greatest +nation on earth, and that I recognize Ollypybus as the only King of this +island, and that I come to this little three-penny King with either +peace and presents, or bullets and war." + +"Have I got to tell him he's a little three-penny King?" said Stedman, +plaintively. + +"No; you needn't give a literal translation; it can be as free as you +please." + +"Thanks," said the secretary, humbly. + +"And tell him," continued Gordon, "that we will give presents to him and +his warriors if he keeps away from Ollypybus, and agrees to keep away +always. If he won't do that, try to get him to agree to stay away for +three months at least, and by that time we can get word to San +Francisco, and have a dozen muskets over here in two months; and when +our time of probation is up, and he and his merry men come dancing down +the hillside, we will blow them up as high as his mountains. But you +needn't tell him that, either. And if he is proud and haughty, and would +rather fight, ask him to restrain himself until we show what we can do +with our weapons at two hundred yards." + +Stedman seated himself in the long grass in front of the King, and with +many revolving gestures of his arms, and much pointing at Gordon, and +profound nods and bows, retold what Gordon had dictated. When he had +finished, the King looked at the bundle of presents, and at the guns, of +which Stedman had given a very wonderful account, but answered nothing. + +"I guess," said Stedman, with a sigh, "that we will have to give him a +little practical demonstration to help matters. I am sorry, but I think +one of those goats has got to die. It's like vivisection. The lower +order of animals have to suffer for the good of the higher." + +"Oh," said Bradley, Jr., cheerfully, "I'd just as soon shoot one of +those niggers as one of the goats." + +So Stedman bade the King tell his men to drive a goat towards them, and +the King did so, and one of the men struck one of the goats with his +spear, and it ran clumsily across the plain. + +"Take your time, Bradley," said Gordon. "Aim low, and if you hit it, you +can have it for supper." + +"And if you miss it," said Stedman, gloomily, "Messenwah may have us +for supper." + +The Hillmen had seated themselves a hundred yards off, while the leaders +were debating, and they now rose curiously and watched Bradley, as he +sank upon one knee, and covered the goat with his rifle. When it was +about one hundred and fifty yards off, he fired, and the goat fell over +dead. + +And then all the Hillmen, with the King himself, broke away on a run, +towards the dead animal, with much shouting. The King came back alone, +leaving his people standing about and examining the goat. He was much +excited, and talked and gesticulated violently. + +"He says--" said Stedman; "he says--" + +"What? yes; go on." + +"He says--goodness me!--what do you think he says?" + +"Well, what does he say?" cried Gordon, in great excitement. "Don't keep +it all to yourself." + +"He says," said Stedman, "that we are deceived. That he is no longer +King of the Island of Opeki, that he is in great fear of us, and that he +has got himself into no end of trouble. He says he sees that we are +indeed mighty men, that to us he is as helpless as the wild boar before +the javelin of the hunter." + +"Well, he's right," said Gordon. "Go on." + +"But that which we ask is no longer his to give. He has sold his +kingship and his right to this island to another king, who came to him +two days ago in a great canoe, and who made noises as we do,--with guns, +I suppose he means,--and to whom he sold the island for a watch that he +has in a bag around his neck. And that he signed a paper, and made marks +on a piece of bark, to show that he gave up the island freely and +forever." + +"What does he mean?" said Gordon. "How can he give up the island? +Ollypybus is the king of half of it, anyway, and he knows it." + +"That's just it," said Stedman. "That's what frightens him. He said he +didn't care about Ollypybus, and didn't count him in when he made the +treaty, because he is such a peaceful chap that he knew he could thrash +him into doing anything he wanted him to do. And now that you have +turned up and taken Ollypybus's part, he wishes he hadn't sold the +island, and wishes to know if you are angry." + +"Angry? of course I'm angry," said Gordon, glaring as grimly at the +frightened monarch as he thought was safe. "Who wouldn't be angry? Who +do you think these people were who made a fool of him, Stedman? Ask him +to let us see this watch." + +Stedman did so, and the King fumbled among his necklaces until he had +brought out a leather bag tied round his neck with a cord, and +containing a plain stem-winding silver watch marked on the inside +"Munich." + +"That doesn't tell anything," said Gordon. "But it's plain enough. Some +foreign ship of war has settled on this place as a coaling-station, or +has annexed it for colonization, and they've sent a boat ashore, and +they've made a treaty with this old chap, and forced him to sell his +birthright for a mess of porridge. Now, that's just like those +monarchical pirates, imposing upon a poor old black." + +Old Bradley looked at him impudently. + +"Not at all," said Gordon; "it's quite different with us; we don't want +to rob him or Ollypybus, or to annex their land. All we want to do is to +improve it, and have the fun of running it for them and meddling in +their affairs of state. Well, Stedman," he said, "what shall we do?" + +Stedman said that the best and only thing to do was to threaten to take +the watch away from Messenwah, but to give him a revolver instead, which +would make a friend of him for life, and to keep him supplied with +cartridges only as long as he behaved himself, and then to make him +understand that, as Ollypybus had not given his consent to the loss of +the island, Messenwah's agreement, or treaty, or whatever it was, did +not stand, and that he had better come down the next day, early in the +morning, and join in a general consultation. This was done, and +Messenwah agreed willingly to their proposition, and was given his +revolver and shown how to shoot it, while the other presents were +distributed among the other men, who were as happy over them as girls +with a full dance-card. + +"And now, to-morrow," said Stedman, "understand, you are all to come +down unarmed, and sign a treaty with great Ollypybus, in which he will +agree to keep to one half of the island, if you keep to yours, and there +must be no more wars or goat stealing, or this gentleman on my right +and I will come up and put holes in you just as the gentleman on the +left did with the goat." + +Messenwah and his warriors promised to come early, and saluted +reverently as Gordon and his three companions walked up together very +proudly and stiffly. + +"Do you know how I feel?" said Gordon. + +"How?" asked Stedman. + +"I feel as I used to do in the city, when the boys in the street were +throwing snow-balls, and I had to go by with a high hat on my head and +pretend not to know they were behind me. I always felt a cold chill down +my spinal column, and I could feel that snow-ball, whether it came or +not, right in the small of my back. And I can feel one of those men +pulling his bow, now, and the arrow sticking out of my right shoulder." + +"Oh, no, you can't," said Stedman. "They are too much afraid of those +rifles. But I do feel sorry for any of those warriors whom old man +Massenwah doesn't like, now that he has that revolver. He isn't the sort +to practise on goats." + +There was great rejoicing when Stedman and Gordon told their story to +the King, and the people learned that they were not to have their huts +burned and their cattle stolen. The armed Opekians formed a guard around +the ambassadors and escorted them to their homes with cheers and shouts, +and the women ran at their side and tried to kiss Gordon's hand. + +"I'm sorry I can't speak the language, Stedman," said Gordon, "or I +would tell them what a brave man you are. You are too modest to do it +yourself, even if I dictated something for you to say. As for me," he +said, pulling off his uniform, "I am thoroughly disgusted and +disappointed. It never occurred to me until it was all over, that this +was my chance to be a war correspondent. It wouldn't have been much of a +war, but then I would have been the only one on the spot, and that +counts for a great deal. Still, my time may come." + +"We have a great deal on hand for to-morrow," said Gordon that evening, +"and we had better turn in early." + +And so the people were still singing and rejoicing down in the village, +when the two conspirators for the peace of the country went to sleep +for the night. It seemed to Gordon as though he had hardly turned his +pillow twice to get the coolest side, when some one touched him, and he +saw, by the light of the dozen glow-worms in the tumbler by his bedside, +a tall figure at its foot. + +"It's me--Bradley," said the figure. + +"Yes," said Gordon, with the haste of a man to show that sleep has no +hold on him; "exactly; what is it?" + +"There is a ship of war in the harbor," Bradley answered in a whisper. +"I heard her anchor chains rattle when she came to, and that woke me. I +could hear that if I were dead. And then I made sure by her lights; +she's a great boat, sir, and I can know she's a ship of war by the +challenging, when they change the watch. I thought you'd like to know, +sir." + +Gordon sat up and clutched his knees with his hands. "Yes, of course," +he said; "you are quite right. Still, I don't see what there is to do." + +He did not wish to show too much youthful interest, but though fresh +from civilization, he had learned how far from it he was, and he was +curious to see this sign of it that had come so much more quickly than +he had anticipated. + +"Wake Mr. Stedman, will you?" said he, "and we will go and take a look +at her." + +"You can see nothing but the lights," said Bradley, as he left the room; +"it's a black night, sir." + +Stedman was not new from the sight of men and ships of war, and came in +half dressed and eager. + +"Do you suppose it's the big canoe Messenwah spoke of?" he said. + +"I thought of that," said Gordon. + +The three men fumbled their way down the road to the plaza, and saw, as +soon as they turned into it, the great outlines and the brilliant lights +of an immense vessel, still more immense in the darkness, and glowing +like a strange monster of the sea, with just a suggestion here and +there, where the lights spread, of her cabins and bridges. As they stood +on the shore, shivering in the cool night wind, they heard the bells +strike over the water. + +"It's two o'clock," said Bradley, counting. + +"Well, we can do nothing, and they cannot mean to do much to-night," +Albert said. "We had better get some more sleep, and, Bradley, you keep +watch and tell us as soon as day breaks." + +"Aye, aye, sir," said the sailor. + +"If that's the man-of-war that made the treaty with Messenwah, and +Messenwah turns up to-morrow, it looks as if our day would be pretty +well filled up," said Albert, as they felt their way back to the +darkness. + +"What do you intend to do?" asked his secretary, with a voice of some +concern. + +"I don't know," Albert answered gravely, from the blackness of the +night. "It looks as if we were getting ahead just a little too fast; +doesn't it? Well," he added, as they reached the house, "let's try to +keep in step with the procession, even if we can't be drum-majors and +walk in front of it." And with this cheering tone of confidence in their +ears, the two diplomats went soundly asleep again. + +The light of the rising sun filled the room, and the parrots were +chattering outside, when Bradley woke him again. + +"They are sending a boat ashore, sir," he said excitedly, and filled +with the importance of the occasion. "She's a German man-of-war, and +one of the new model. A beautiful boat, sir; for her lines were laid in +Glasgow, and I can tell that, no matter what flag she flies. You had +best be moving to meet them: the village isn't awake yet." + +Albert took a cold bath and dressed leisurely; then he made Bradley, +Jr., who had slept through it all, get up breakfast, and the two young +men ate it and drank their coffee comfortably and with an air of +confidence that deceived their servants, if it did not deceive +themselves. But when they came down the path, smoking and swinging their +sticks, and turned into the plaza, their composure left them like a +mask, and they stopped where they stood. The plaza was enclosed by the +natives gathered in whispering groups, and depressed by fear and wonder. +On one side were crowded all the Messenwah warriors, unarmed, and as +silent and disturbed as the Opekians. In the middle of the plaza some +twenty sailors were busy rearing and bracing a tall flag-staff that they +had shaped from a royal palm, and they did this as unconcernedly and as +contemptuously, and with as much indifference to the strange groups on +either side of them, as though they were working on a barren coast, with +nothing but the startled sea-gulls about them. As Albert and Stedman +came upon the scene, the flag-pole was in place, and the halliards hung +from it with a little bundle of bunting at the end of one of them. + +"We must find the King at once," said Gordon. He was terribly excited +and angry. "It is easy enough to see what this means. They are going +through the form of annexing this island to the other lands of the +German government. They are robbing old Ollypybus of what is his. They +have not even given him a silver watch for it." + +The King was in his bungalow, facing the plaza. Messenwah was with him, +and an equal number of each of their councils. The common danger had +made them lie down together in peace; but they gave a murmur of relief +as Gordon strode into the room with no ceremony, and greeted them with a +curt wave of the hand. + +"Now then, Stedman, be quick," he said. "Explain to them what this +means; tell them that I will protect them; that I am anxious to see +that Ollypybus is not cheated; that we will do all we can for them." + +Outside, on the shore, a second boat's crew had landed a group of +officers and a file of marines. They walked in all the dignity of full +dress across the plaza to the flag-pole, and formed in line on the three +sides of it, with the marines facing the sea. The officers, from the +captain with a prayer book in his hand, to the youngest middy, were as +indifferent to the frightened natives about them as the other men had +been. The natives, awed and afraid, crouched back among their huts, the +marines and the sailors kept their eyes front, and the German captain +opened his prayer-book. The debate in the bungalow was over. + +"If you only had your uniform, sir," said Bradley, Sr., miserably. + +"This is a little bit too serious for uniforms and bicycle medals," said +Gordon. "And these men are used to gold lace." + +He pushed his way through the natives, and stepped confidently across +the plaza. The youngest middy saw him coming, and nudged the one next +him with his elbow, and he nudged the next, but none of the officers +moved, because the captain had begun to read. + +"One minute, please," called Gordon. + +He stepped out into the hollow square formed by the marines, and raised +his helmet to the captain. + +"Do you speak English or French?" Gordon said in French; "I do not +understand German." + +The captain lowered the book in his hands and gazed reflectively at +Gordon through his spectacles, and made no reply. + +"If I understand this," said the younger man, trying to be very +impressive and polite, "you are laying claim to this land, in behalf of +the German government." + +The captain continued to observe him thoughtfully, and then said, "That +iss so," and then asked, "Who are you?" + +"I represent the King of this island, Ollypybus, whose people you see +around you. I also represent the United States government that does not +tolerate a foreign power near her coast, since the days of President +Monroe and before. The treaty you have made with Messenwah is an +absurdity. There is only one king with whom to treat, and he--" + +The captain turned to one of his officers and said something, and then, +after giving another curious glance at Gordon, raised his book and +continued reading, in a deep, unruffled monotone. The officer whispered +an order, and two of the marines stepped out of line, and dropping the +muzzles of their muskets, pushed Gordon back out of the enclosure, and +left him there with his lips white, and trembling all over with +indignation. He would have liked to have rushed back into the lines and +broken the captain's spectacles over his sun-tanned nose and cheeks, but +he was quite sure this would only result in his getting shot, or in his +being made ridiculous before the natives, which was almost as bad; so he +stood still for a moment, with his blood choking him, and then turned +and walked back to where the King and Stedman were whispering together. +Just as he turned, one of the men pulled the halyards, the ball of +bunting ran up into the air, bobbed, twitched, and turned, and broke +into the folds of the German flag. At the same moment the marines raised +their muskets and fired a volley, and the officers saluted and the +sailors cheered. + +"Do you see that?" cried Stedman, catching Gordon's humor, to Ollypybus; +"that means that you are no longer king, that strange people are coming +here to take your land, and to turn your people into servants, and to +drive you back into the mountains. Are you going to submit? are you +going to let that flag stay where it is?" + +Messenwah and Ollypybus gazed at one another with fearful, helpless +eyes. "We are afraid," Ollypybus cried; "we do not know what we should +do." + +"What do they say?" + +"They say they do not know what to do." + +"I know what I'd do," cried Gordon. "If I were not an American consul, +I'd pull down their old flag, and put a hole in their boat and sink +her." + +"Well, I'd wait until they get under way, before you do either of those +things," said Stedman, soothingly. "That captain seems to be a man of +much determination of character." + +"But I will pull it down," cried Gordon. "I will resign, as Travis did. +I am no longer consul. You can be consul if you want to. I promote you. +I am going up a step higher. I mean to be king. Tell those two," he ran +on excitedly, "that their only course and only hope is in me; that they +must make me ruler of the island until this thing is over; that I will +resign again as soon as it is settled, but that some one must act at +once, and if they are afraid to, I am not, only they must give me +authority to act for them. They must abdicate in my favor." + +"Are you in earnest?" gasped Stedman. + +"Don't I talk as if I were?" demanded Gordon, wiping the perspiration +from his forehead. + +"And can I be consul?" said Stedman, cheerfully. + +"Of course. Tell them what I propose to do." + +Stedman turned and spoke rapidly to the two kings. The people gathered +closer to hear. + +The two rival monarchs looked at one another in silence for a moment, +and then both began to speak at once, their counsellors interrupting +them and mumbling their guttural comments with anxious earnestness. It +did not take them very long to see that they were all of one mind, and +then they both turned to Gordon and dropped on one knee, and placed his +hands on their foreheads, and Stedman raised his cap. + +"They agree," he explained, for it was but pantomime to Albert. "They +salute you as a ruler; they are calling you Tellaman, which means +peacemaker. The Peacemaker, that is your title. I hope you will deserve +it, but I think they might have chosen a more appropriate one." + +"Then I'm really King?" demanded Albert, decidedly, "and I can do what I +please? They give me full power. Quick, do they?" + +"Yes, but don't do it," begged Stedman, "and just remember I am American +consul now, and that is a much superior being to a crowned monarch; you +said so yourself." + +Albert did not reply to this, but ran across the plaza followed by the +two Bradleys. The boats had gone. + +"Hoist that flag beside the brass cannon," he cried, "and stand ready to +salute it when I drop this one." + +Bradley, Jr., grasped the halliards of the flag, which he had forgotten +to raise and salute in the morning in all the excitement of the arrival +of the man-of-war. Bradley, Sr., stood by the brass cannon, blowing +gently on his lighted fuse. The Peacemaker took the halliards of the +German flag in his two hands, gave a quick, sharp tug, and down came the +red, white, and black piece of bunting, and the next moment young +Bradley sent the stars and stripes up in their place. As it rose, +Bradley's brass cannon barked merrily like a little bull-dog, and the +Peacemaker cheered. + +"What don't you cheer, Stedman?" he shouted. "Tell those people to cheer +for all they are worth. What sort of an American consul are you?" + +Stedman raised his arm half-heartedly to give the time, and opened his +mouth; but his arm remained fixed and his mouth open, while his eyes +stared at the retreating boat of the German man-of-war. In the stern +sheets of this boat, the stout German captain was struggling unsteadily +to his feet; he raised his arm and waved it to some one on the great +man-of-war, as though giving an order. The natives looked from Stedman +to the boat, and even Gordon stopped in his cheering and stood +motionless, watching. They had not very long to wait. There was a puff +of white smoke, and a flash, and then a loud report, and across the +water came a great black ball skipping lightly through and over the +waves, as easily as a flat stone thrown by a boy. It seemed to come very +slowly. At least it came slowly enough for every one to see that it was +coming directly towards the brass cannon. The Bradleys certainly saw +this, for they ran as fast as they could, and kept on running. The ball +caught the cannon under its mouth, and tossed it in the air, knocking +the flag-pole into a dozen pieces, and passing on through two of the +palm-covered huts. + +"Great Heavens, Gordon!" cried Stedman; "they are firing on us." + +But Gordon's face was radiant and wild. + +"Firing on _us_!" he cried. "On _us_! Don't you see? Don't you +understand? What do _we_ amount to? They have fired on the American +flag. Don't you see what that means? It means war. A great international +war. And I am a war correspondent at last!" He ran up to Stedman and +seized him by the arm so tightly that it hurt. + +"By three o'clock," he said, "they will know in the office what has +happened. The country will know it to-morrow when the paper is on the +street; people will read it all over the world. The Emperor will hear of +it at breakfast; the President will cable for further particulars. He +will get them. It is the chance of a lifetime, and we are on the spot!" + +Stedman did not hear this; he was watching the broadside of the ship to +see another puff of white smoke, but there came no such sign. The two +row-boats were raised, there was a cloud of black smoke from the funnel, +a creaking of chains sounding faintly across the water, and the ship +started at half speed and moved out of the harbor. The Opekians and the +Hillmen fell on their knees, or to dancing, as best suited their sense +of relief, but Gordon shook his head. + +"They are only going to land the marines," he said; "perhaps they are +going to the spot they stopped at before, or to take up another position +further out at sea. They will land men and then shell the town, and the +land forces will march here and cooperate with the vessel, and everybody +will be taken prisoner or killed. We have the centre of the stage, and +we are making history." + +"I'd rather read it than make it," said Stedman. "You've got us in a +senseless, silly position, Gordon, and a mighty unpleasant one. And for +no reason that I can see, except to make copy for your paper." + +"Tell those people to get their things together," said Gordon, "and +march back out of danger into the woods. Tell Ollypybus I am going to +fix things all right; I don't know just how yet, but I will, and now +come after me as quickly as you can to the cable office. I've got to +tell the paper all about it." + +It was three o'clock before the "chap at Octavia" answered Stedman's +signalling. Then Stedman delivered Gordon's message, and immediately +shut off all connection, before the Octavia operator could question him. +Gordon dictated his message in this way:-- + +"Begin with the date line, 'Opeki, June 22.' + +"At seven o'clock this morning, the captain and officers of the German +man-of-war, _Kaiser_, went through the ceremony of annexing this island +in the name of the German Emperor, basing their right to do so on an +agreement made with a leader of a wandering tribe, known as the +Hillmen. King Ollypybus, the present monarch of Opeki, delegated his +authority, as also did the leader of the Hillmen, to King Tallaman, or +the Peacemaker, who tore down the German flag, and raised that of the +United States in its place. At the same moment the flag was saluted by +the battery. This salute, being mistaken for an attack on the _Kaiser_, +was answered by that vessel. Her first shot took immediate effect, +completely destroying the entire battery of the Opekians, cutting down +the American flag, and destroying the houses of the people--" + +"There was only one brass cannon and two huts," expostulated Stedman. + +"Well, that was the whole battery, wasn't it?" asked Gordon, "and two +huts is plural. I said houses of the people. I couldn't say two houses +of the people. Just you send this as you get it. You are not an American +consul at the present moment. You are an under-paid agent of a cable +company, and you send my stuff as I write it. The American residents +have taken refuge in the consulate--that's us," explained Gordon, "and +the English residents have sought refuge in the woods--that's the +Bradleys. King Tellaman--that's me--declares his intention of fighting +against the annexation. The forces of the Opekians are under the command +of Captain Thomas Bradley--I guess I might as well made him a +colonel--of Colonel Thomas Bradley, of the English army. + +"The American consul says--Now, what do you say, Stedman? Hurry up, +please," asked Gordon, "and say something good and strong." + +"You get me all mixed up," complained Stedman, plaintively. "Which am I +now, a cable operator or the American consul?" + +"Consul, of course. Say something patriotic and about your determination +to protect the interests of your government, and all that." Gordon bit +the end of his pencil impatiently, and waited. + +"I won't do anything of the sort, Gordon," said Stedman; "you are +getting me into an awful lot of trouble, and yourself too. I won't say a +word." + +"The American consul," read Gordon, as his pencil wriggled across the +paper, "refuses to say anything for publication until he has +communicated with the authorities at Washington, but from all I can +learn he sympathizes entirely with Tellaman. Your correspondent has just +returned from an audience with King Tellaman, who asks him to inform the +American people that the Monroe doctrine will be sustained as long as he +rules this island. I guess that's enough to begin with," said Gordon. +"Now send that off quick, and then get away from the instrument before +the man in Octavia begins to ask questions. I am going out to +precipitate matters." + +Gordon found the two kings sitting dejectedly side by side, and gazing +grimly upon the disorder of the village, from which the people were +taking their leave as quickly as they could get their few belongings +piled upon the ox-carts. Gordon walked amongst them, helping them in +every way he could, and tasting, in their subservience and gratitude, +the sweets of sovereignty. When Stedman had locked up the cable office +and rejoined him, he bade him tell Messenwah to send three of his +youngest men and fastest runners back to the hills to watch for the +German vessel and see where she was attempting to land her marines. + +"This is a tremendous chance for descriptive writing, Stedman," said +Gordon, enthusiastically, "all this confusion and excitement, and the +people leaving their homes and all that. It's like the people getting +out of Brussels before Waterloo, and then the scene at the foot of the +mountains, while they are camping out there, until the Germans leave. I +never had a chance like this before." + +It was quite dark by six o'clock, and none of the three messengers had +as yet returned. Gordon walked up and down the empty plaza and looked +now at the horizon for the man-of-war, and again down the road back of +the village. But neither the vessel nor the messengers, bearing word of +her, appeared. The night passed without any incident, and in the morning +Gordon's impatience became so great that he walked out to where the +villagers were in camp and passed on half way up the mountain, but he +could see no sign of the man-of-war. He came back more restless than +before, and keenly disappointed. + +"If something don't happen before three o'clock, Stedman," he said, "our +second cablegram will have to consist of glittering generalities and a +lengthy interview with King Tellaman, by himself." + +Nothing did happen. Ollypybus and Messenwah began to breathe more +freely. They believed the new king had succeeded in frightening the +German vessel away forever. But the new king upset their hopes by +telling them that the Germans had undoubtedly already landed, and had +probably killed the three messengers. + +"Now then," he said, with pleased expectation, as Stedman and he seated +themselves in the cable office at three o'clock, "open it up and let's +find out what sort of an impression we have made." + +Stedman's face, as the answer came in to his first message of greeting, +was one of strangely marked disapproval. + +"What does he say?" demanded Gordon, anxiously. + +"He hasn't done anything but swear yet," answered Stedman, grimly. + +"What is he swearing about?" + +"He wants to know why I left the cable yesterday. He says he has been +trying to call me up for the last twenty-four hours ever since I sent my +message at three o'clock The home office is jumping mad, and want me +discharged. They won't do that, though," he said, in a cheerful aside, +"because they haven't paid me my salary for the last eight months. He +says--great Scott! this will please you, Gordon--he says that there have +been over two hundred queries for matter from papers all over the United +States, and from Europe. Your paper beat them on the news, and now the +home office is packed with San Francisco reporters, and the telegrams +are coming in every minute, and they have been abusing him for not +answering them, and he says that I'm a fool. He wants as much as you can +send, and all the details. He says all the papers will have to put 'By +Yokohama Cable Company' on the top of each message they print, and that +that is advertising the company, and is sending the stock up. It rose +fifteen points on 'change in San Francisco to-day, and the president and +the other officers are buying--" + +"Oh, I don't want to hear about their old company," snapped out Gordon, +pacing up and down in despair. "What am I to do? that's what I want to +know. Here I have the whole country stirred up and begging for news. On +their knees for it, and a cable all to myself and the only man on the +spot, and nothing to say. I'd just like to know how long that German +idiot intends to wait before he begins shelling this town and killing +people. He has put me in a most absurd position." + +"Here's a message for you, Gordon," said Stedman, with business-like +calm. "Albert Gordon, Correspondent," he read: "Try American consul. +First message O.K.; beat the country; can take all you send. Give names +of foreign residents massacred, and fuller account blowing up palace. +Dodge." + +The expression on Gordon's face as this message was slowly read off to +him, had changed from one of gratified pride to one of puzzled +consternation. + +"What's he mean by foreign residents massacred, and blowing up of +palace?" asked Stedman, looking over his shoulder anxiously. "Who is +Dodge?" + +"Dodge is the night editor," said Gordon, nervously. "They must have +read my message wrong. You sent just what I gave you, didn't you?" he +asked. + +"Of course I did," said Stedman, indignantly. + +"I didn't say anything about the massacre of anybody, did I?" asked +Gordon. "I hope they are not improving on my account. What _am_ I to do? +This is getting awful. I'll have to go out and kill a few people myself. +Oh, why don't that Dutch captain begin to do something! What sort of a +fighter does he call himself? He wouldn't shoot at a school of +porpoises. He's not--" + +"Here comes a message to Leonard T. Travis, American consul, Opeki," +read Stedman. "It's raining messages to-day. 'Send full details of +massacre of American citizens by German sailors.' Secretary of--great +Scott!" gasped Stedman, interrupting himself and gazing at his +instrument with horrified fascination--"the Secretary of State." + +"That settles it," roared Gordon, pulling at his hair and burying his +face in his hands. "I have _got_ to kill some of them now." + +"Albert Gordon, Correspondent," read Stedman, impressively, like the +voice of Fate. "Is Colonel Thomas Bradley commanding native forces at +Opeki, Colonel Sir Thomas Kent-Bradley of Crimean war fame? +Correspondent London _Times_, San Francisco Press Club." + +"Go on, go on!" said Gordon, desperately. "I'm getting used to it now. +Go on!" + +"American consul, Opeki," read Stedman. "Home Secretary desires you to +furnish list of names English residents killed during shelling of Opeki +by ship of war _Kaiser_, and estimate of amount property destroyed. +Stoughton, British Embassy, Washington." + +"Stedman!" cried Gordon, jumping to his feet, "there's a mistake here +somewhere. These people cannot all have made my message read like that. +Some one has altered it, and now I have got to make these people here +live up to that message, whether they like being massacred and blown up +or not. Don't answer any of those messages, except the one from Dodge; +tell him things have quieted down a bit, and that I'll send four +thousand words on the flight of the natives from the village, and their +encampment at the foot of the mountains, and of the exploring party we +have sent out to look for the German vessel; and now I am going out to +make something happen." + +Gordon said that he would be gone for two hours at least, and as Stedman +did not feel capable of receiving any more nerve-stirring messages, he +cut off all connection with Octavia, by saying, "Good-by for two hours." +and running away from the office. He sat down on a rock on the beach, +and mopped his face with his handkerchief. + +"After a man has taken nothing more exciting than weather reports from +Octavia for a year," he soliloquized, "it's a bit disturbing to have all +the crowned heads of Europe and their secretaries calling upon you for +details of a massacre that never came off." + +At the end of two hours Gordon returned from the consulate with a mass +of manuscript in his hand. + +"Here's three thousand words," he said desperately. "I never wrote more +and said less in my life. It will make them weep at the office. I had to +pretend that they knew all that had happened so far; they apparently do +know more than we do, and I have filled it full of prophesies of more +trouble ahead, and with interviews with myself and the two ex-Kings. The +only news element in it is, that the messengers have returned to report +that the German vessel is not in sight, and that there is no news. They +think she has gone for good. Suppose she has, Stedman," he groaned, +looking at him helplessly, "what _am_ I going to do?" + +"Well, as for me," said Stedman, "I'm afraid to go near that cable. It's +like playing with a live wire. My nervous system won't stand many more +such shocks as those they gave us this morning." + +Gordon threw himself down dejectedly in a chair in the office, and +Stedman approached his instrument gingerly, as though it might explode. + +"He's swearing again," he explained sadly, in answer to Gordon's look of +inquiry. "He wants to know when I am going to stop running away from the +wire. He has a stack of messages to send, he says, but I guess he'd +better wait and take your copy first; don't you think so?" + +"Yes, I do," said Gordon. "I don't want any more messages than I've had. +That's the best I can do," he said, as he threw his manuscript down +beside Stedman. "And they can keep on cabling until the wire burns red +hot, and they won't get any more." + +There was silence in the office for some time, while Stedman looked over +Gordon's copy, and Gordon stared dejectedly out at the ocean. + +"This is pretty poor stuff, Gordon," said Stedman. "It's like giving +people milk when they want brandy." + +"Don't you suppose I know that?" growled Gordon. "It's the best I can +do, isn't it? It's not my fault that we are not all dead now. I can't +massacre foreign residents if there are no foreign residents, but I can +commit suicide though, and I'll do it if something don't happen." + +There was a long pause, in which the silence of the office was only +broken by the sound of the waves beating on the coral reefs outside. +Stedman raised his head wearily. + +"He's swearing again," he said; "he says this stuff of yours is all +nonsense. He says stock in the Y.C.C. has gone up to one hundred and +two, and that owners are unloading and making their fortunes, and that +this sort of descriptive writing is not what the company want." + +"What's he think I'm here for?" cried Gordon. "Does he think I pulled +down the German flag and risked my neck half a dozen times and had +myself made King just to boom his Yokohama cable stock? Confound him! +You might at least swear back. Tell him just what the situation is in a +few words. Here, stop that rigmarole to the paper, and explain to your +home office that we are awaiting developments, and that, in the +meanwhile, they must put up with the best we can send them. Wait; send +this to Octavia." + +Gordon wrote rapidly, and read what he wrote as rapidly as it was +written. + +"Operator, Octavia. You seem to have misunderstood my first message. The +facts in the case are these. A German man-of-war raised a flag on this +island. It was pulled down and the American flag raised in its place and +saluted by a brass cannon. The German man-of-war fired once at the flag +and knocked it down, and then steamed away and has not been seen since. +Two huts were upset, that is all the damage done; the battery consisted +of the one brass cannon before mentioned. No one, either native or +foreign, has been massacred. The English residents are two sailors. The +American residents are the young man who is sending you this cable and +myself. Our first message was quite true in substance, but perhaps +misleading in detail. I made it so because I fully expected much more +to happen immediately. Nothing has happened, or seems likely to happen, +and that is the exact situation up to date. Albert Gordon." + +"Now," he asked after a pause, "what does he say to that?" + +"He doesn't say anything," said Stedman. + +"I guess he has fainted. Here it comes," he added in the same breath. He +bent toward his instrument, and Gordon raised himself from his chair and +stood beside him as he read it off. The two young men hardly breathed in +the intensity of their interest. + +"Dear Stedman," he slowly read aloud. "You and your young friend are a +couple of fools. If you had allowed me to send you the messages awaiting +transmission here to you, you would not have sent me such a confession +of guilt as you have just done. You had better leave Opeki at once or +hide in the hills. I am afraid I have placed you in a somewhat +compromising position with the company, which is unfortunate, especially +as, if I am not mistaken, they owe you some back pay. You should have +been wiser in your day, and bought Y.C.C. stock when it was down to five +cents, as 'yours truly' did. You are not, Stedman, as bright a boy as +some. And as for your friend, the war correspondent, he has queered +himself for life. You see, my dear Stedman, after I had sent off your +first message, and demands for further details came pouring in, and I +could not get you at the wire to supply them, I took the liberty of +sending some on myself." + +"Great Heavens!" gasped Gordon. + +Stedman grew very white under his tan, and the perspiration rolled on +his cheeks. + +"Your message was so general in its nature, that it allowed my +imagination full play, and I sent on what I thought would please the +papers, and, what was much more important to me, would advertise the +Y.C.C. stock. This I have been doing while waiting for material from +you. Not having a clear idea of the dimensions or population of Opeki, +it is possible that I have done you and your newspaper friend some +injustice. I killed off about a hundred American residents, two hundred +English, because I do not like the English, and a hundred French. I blew +up old Ollypybus and his palace with dynamite, and shelled the city, +destroying some hundred thousand dollars' worth of property, and then I +waited anxiously for your friend to substantiate what I had said. This +he has most unkindly failed to do. I am very sorry, but much more so for +him than for myself, for I, my dear friend, have cabled on to a man in +San Francisco, who is one of the directors of the Y.C.C, to sell all my +stock, which he has done at one hundred and two, and he is keeping the +money until I come. And I leave Octavia this afternoon to reap my just +reward. I am in about twenty thousand dollars on your little war, and I +feel grateful. So much so that I will inform you that the ship of war +_Kaiser_ has arrived at San Francisco, for which port she sailed +directly from Opeki. Her captain has explained the real situation, and +offered to make every amend for the accidental indignity shown to our +flag. He says he aimed at the cannon, which was trained on his vessel, +and which had first fired on him. But you must know, my dear Stedman, +that before his arrival, war vessels belonging to the several powers +mentioned in my revised dispatches, had started for Opeki at full speed, +to revenge the butchery of the foreign residents. A word, my dear young +friend, to the wise is sufficient. I am indebted to you to the extent +of twenty thousand dollars, and in return I give you this kindly advice. +Leave Opeki. If there is no other way, swim. But leave Opeki." + +The sun, that night, as it sank below the line where the clouds seemed +to touch the sea, merged them both into a blazing, blood-red curtain, +and colored the most wonderful spectacle that the natives of Opeki had +ever seen. Six great ships of war, stretching out over a league of sea, +stood blackly out against the red background, rolling and rising, and +leaping forward, flinging back smoke and burning sparks up into the air +behind them, and throbbing and panting like living creatures in their +race for revenge. From the south, came a three-decked vessel, a great +island of floating steel, with a flag as red as the angry sky behind it, +snapping in the wind. To the south of it plunged two long low-lying +torpedo boats, flying the French tri-color, and still further to the +north towered three magnificent hulls of the White Squadron. Vengeance +was written on every curve and line, on each straining engine rod, and +on each polished gun muzzle. + +And in front of these, a clumsy fishing boat rose and fell on each +passing wave. Two sailors sat in the stern, holding the rope and tiller, +and in the bow, with their backs turned forever toward Opeki, stood two +young boys, their faces lit by the glow of the setting sun and stirred +by the sight of the great engines of war plunging past them on their +errand of vengeance. + +"Stedman," said the elder boy, in an awestruck whisper, and with a wave +of his hand, "we have not lived in vain." + + * * * * * + + + + +BOOKS BY RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. + + * * * * * + +GALLEGHER, + +AND OTHER STORIES. + +BY + +Richard Harding Davis. + + * * * * * + +==12mo. Cloth, $1.00; Paper, 50 cents.== + + * * * * * + +As pictures of human life in a great city, these ten stories are simply +unique.--_Newark Advertiser_. + +New York has a new meaning to his readers, as London has a new meaning +to the reader of Dickens.--_N.Y. Commercial Advertiser_. + +Mr. Davis is a writer of unquestioned genius. His sketches of city life +in the poorer districts have a force which makes them exceptionally +vivid and inspiring.--_Albany Express_. + +Ten remarkable newspaper and magazine stories. They will make capital +winter reading, and the book is one that will find a welcome +everywhere.--_N.Y. Journal of Commerce_. + +The freshness, the strength, and the vivid picturesqueness of the +stories are indisputable, and their originality and their marked +distinction are no less decided.--_Boston Saturday Gazette_. + +His figures stand forth clear cut, and marvellously truthful and +lifelike. Their wholesome tone is in grateful contrast to the false and +exaggerated note so often struck by young authors,--_Philadelphia +Ledger_. + + * * * * * + + + + +BOOKS BY RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. + + * * * * * + +STORIES FOR BOYS. + +BY + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. + + * * * * * + +WITH SIX FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. + + * * * * * + +12mo. Cloth, $1.00. + +Of intense interest. It will be very popular with all boys.--_Detroit +Tribune_. + +Crisp in style, and animated in incident. For a wholesome, hearty boy, +we can fancy no more entertaining volume.--_Newark Advertiser_. + +It will be astonishing, indeed, if youths of all ages are not fascinated +with these stories. Mr. Davis knows infallibly what will interest his +readers.--_Boston Beacon_. + +They are of manly sport and adventure, and, while of absorbing interest +to any boy, will at the same time inspire him with manliness, high +ideals, and courage.--_Boston Times_. + +There is the same keen sense of humor that is always present in his +writings, and the spirit of enthusiasm which will appeal to boys who +have a love of adventure and are interested in out-door +sports.--_Christian Inquirer_. + +All of them have genuine interest of plot, a hearty, breezy spirit of +youth and adventuresomeness which will captivate the special audience +they are addressed to, and will also charm older people.--_Hartford +Courant_. + + * * * * * + +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, + +743-745 Broadway, New York. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cinderella, by Richard Harding Davis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CINDERELLA *** + +***** This file should be named 16310-8.txt or 16310-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/3/1/16310/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Janet Blenkinship, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cinderella + And Other Stories + +Author: Richard Harding Davis + +Release Date: July 16, 2005 [EBook #16310] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CINDERELLA *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Janet Blenkinship, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p><a name="Page_-4" id="Page_-4"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.png" alt="cover" title="cover" /></div> + +<h1>CINDERELLA</h1> + +<h2>AND OTHER STORIES</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>RICHARD HARDING DAVIS</h2> + +<h4>NEW YORK</h4> + +<h4>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h4> + +<h5>1896</h5> + +<p class='center'><a name="Page_-2" id="Page_-2"></a><i>Copyright, 1896,</i></p> + +<p class='center'>By Charles Scribner's Sons.</p> + +<p class='center'>*<sub>*</sub>* <i>The stories in this volume have appeared in Scribner's Magazine, +Harper's Magazine, Weekly, and Young People; and "The Reporter who Made +Himself King" also in a volume, the rest of which, however, addressed +itself to younger readers.</i></p> + +<p class='center'>University Press:</p> + +<p class='center'><span class="smcap">John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontis.png" alt="frontis" title="frontis" /><br />"He looked beyond, through the dying fire, into the +succeeding years."</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_-1" id="Page_-1"></a></p> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td class="toc"><a href="#CINDERELLA">Cinderella</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="toc"><a href="#MISS_DELAMARS_UNDERSTUDY">Miss Delamar's Understudy</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="toc"><a href="#THE_EDITORS_STORY">The Editor's Story</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="toc"><a href="#AN_ASSISTED_EMIGRANT">An Assisted Emigrant</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="toc"><a href="#THE_REPORTER_WHO_MADE_HIMSELF_KING">The Reporter Who Made Himself King</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="toc"><a href="#BOOKS_BY_RICHARD_HARDING_DAVIS">Books by Richard Harding Davis.</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_0" id="Page_0"></a></p><p><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></p> +<h3><a name="CINDERELLA" id="CINDERELLA"></a>CINDERELLA</h3> + + +<p>The servants of the Hotel Salisbury, which is so called because it is +situated on Broadway and conducted on the American plan by a man named +Riggs, had agreed upon a date for their annual ball and volunteer +concert, and had announced that it would eclipse every other annual ball +in the history of the hotel. As the Hotel Salisbury had been only two +years in existence, this was not an idle boast, and it had the effect of +inducing many people to buy the tickets, which sold at a dollar apiece, +and were good for "one gent and a lady," and entitled the bearer to a +hat-check without extra charge.</p> + +<p>In the flutter of preparation all ranks were temporarily levelled, and +social barriers taken down with the mutual consent of those separated by +them; the night-clerk so far unbent as to personally request the colored +hall-boy Number Eight to play a banjo solo <a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a>at the concert, which was to +fill in the pauses between the dances, and the chambermaids timidly +consulted with the lady telegraph operator and the lady in charge of the +telephone, as to whether or not they intended to wear hats.</p> + +<p>And so every employee on every floor of the hotel was working +individually for the success of the ball, from the engineers in charge +of the electric light plant in the cellar, to the night-watchman on the +ninth story, and the elevator-boys who belonged to no floor in +particular.</p> + +<p>Miss Celestine Terrell, who was Mrs. Grahame West in private life, and +young Grahame West, who played the part opposite to hers in the Gilbert +and Sullivan Opera that was then in the third month of its New York run, +were among the honored patrons of the Hotel Salisbury. Miss Terrell, in +her utter inability to adjust the American coinage to English standards, +and also in the kindness of her heart, had given too generous tips to +all of the hotel waiters, and some of this money had passed into the +gallery window of the Broadway Theatre, where the hotel waiters had +heard her sing <a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a>and seen her dance, and had failed to recognize her +young husband in the Lord Chancellor's wig and black silk court dress. +So they knew that she was a celebrated personage, and they urged the +<i>maître d'hôtel</i> to invite her to the ball, and then persuade her to +take a part in their volunteer concert.</p> + +<p>Paul, the head-waiter, or "Pierrot," as Grahame West called him, because +it was shorter, as he explained, hovered over the two young English +people one night at supper, and served them lavishly with his own hands.</p> + +<p>"Miss Terrell," said Paul, nervously,—"I beg pardon, Madam, Mrs. +Grahame West, I should say,—I would like to make an invitation to you."</p> + +<p>Celestine looked at her husband inquiringly, and bowed her head for Paul +to continue.</p> + +<p>"The employees of the Salisbury give the annual ball and concert on the +sixteenth of December, and the committee have inquired and requested of +me, on account of your kindness, to ask you would you be so polite as to +sing a little song for us at the night of our ball?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a>The head-waiter drew a long breath and straightened himself with a +sense of relief at having done his part, whether the Grahame Wests did +theirs or not.</p> + +<p>As a rule, Miss Terrell did not sing in private, and had only broken +this rule twice, when the inducements which led her to do so were forty +pounds for each performance, and the fact that her beloved Princess of +Wales was to be present. So she hesitated for an instant.</p> + +<p>"Why, you are very good," she said, doubtfully. "Will there be any other +people there,—any one not an employee, I mean?"</p> + +<p>Paul misunderstood her and became a servant again.</p> + +<p>"No, I am afraid there will be only the employees, Madam," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, then, I should be very glad to come," murmured Celestine, sweetly. +"But I never sing out of the theatre, so you mustn't mind if it is not +good."</p> + +<p>The head-waiter played a violent tattoo on the back of the chair in his +delight, and balanced and bowed.</p> + +<p>"Ah, we are very proud and pleased that we can induce Madam to make so +great <a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a>exceptions," he declared. "The committee will be most happy. We +will send a carriage for Madam, and a bouquet for Madam also," he added +grandly, as one who was not to be denied the etiquette to which he +plainly showed he was used.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Will we come?" cried Van Bibber, incredulously, as he and Travers sat +watching Grahame make up in his dressing-room. "I should say we would +come. And you must all take supper with us first, and we will get Letty +Chamberlain from the Gaiety Company and Lester to come too, and make +them each do a turn."</p> + +<p>"And we can dance on the floor ourselves, can't we?" asked Grahame West, +"as they do at home Christmas-eve in the servants' hall, when her +ladyship dances in the same set with the butler and the men waltz with +the cook."</p> + +<p>"Well, over here," said Van Bibber, "you'll have to be careful that +you're properly presented to the cook first, or she'll appeal to the +floor committee and have you thrown out."</p> + +<p>"The interesting thing about that ball,"<a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a> said Travers, as he and Van +Bibber walked home that night, "is the fact that those hotel people are +getting a galaxy of stars to amuse them for nothing who wouldn't exhibit +themselves at a Fifth Avenue dance for all the money in Wall Street. And +the joke of it is going to be that the servants will vastly prefer the +banjo solo by hall-boy Number Eight."</p> + +<p>Lyric Hall lies just this side of the Forty-second Street station along +the line of the Sixth Avenue Elevated road, and you can look into its +windows from the passing train. It was after one o'clock when the +invited guests and their friends pushed open the storm-doors and were +recognized by the anxious committee-men who were taking tickets at the +top of the stairs. The committee-men fled in different directions, +shouting for Mr. Paul, and Mr. Paul arrived beaming with delight and +moisture, and presented a huge bouquet to Mrs. West, and welcomed her +friends with hospitable warmth.</p> + +<p>Mrs. West and Miss Chamberlain took off their hats and the men gave up +their coats, not without misgivings, to a sleepy young <a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>man who said +pleasantly, as he dragged them into the coat-room window, "that they +would be playing in great luck if they ever saw them again."</p> + +<p>"I don't need to give you no checks," he explained: "just ask for the +coats with real fur on 'em. Nobody else has any."</p> + +<p>There was a balcony overhanging the floor, and the invited guests were +escorted to it, and given seats where they could look down upon the +dancers below, and the committee-men, in dangling badges with edges of +silver fringe, stood behind their chairs and poured out champagne for +them lavishly, and tore up the wine-check which the barkeeper brought +with it, with princely hospitality.</p> + +<p>The entrance of the invited guests created but small interest, and +neither the beauty of the two English girls nor Lester's well-known +features, which smiled from shop-windows and on every ash-barrel +in the New York streets, aroused any particular comment. The employees +were much more occupied with the Lancers then in progress, and with the +joyful actions of one of their number who was playing blind-man's-buff +with himself, and swaying from set to set in <a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>search of his partner, who +had given him up as hopeless and retired to the supper-room for crackers +and beer.</p> + +<p>Some of the ladies wore bonnets, and others wore flowers in their hair, +and a half-dozen were in gowns which were obviously intended for dancing +and nothing else. But none of them were in <i>décolleté</i> gowns. A few wore +gloves. They had copied the fashions of their richer sisters with the +intuitive taste of the American girl of their class, and they waltzed +quite as well as the ladies whose dresses they copied, and many of them +were exceedingly pretty. The costumes of the gentlemen varied from the +clothes they wore nightly when waiting on the table, to cutaway coats +with white satin ties, and the regular blue and brass-buttoned uniform +of the hotel.</p> + +<p>"I am going to dance," said Van Bibber, "if Mr. Pierrot will present me +to one of the ladies."</p> + +<p>Paul introduced him to a lady in a white cheese-cloth dress and black +walking-shoes, with whom no one else would dance, and the musicians +struck up "The Band Played On," and they launched out upon a slippery +floor.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a>Van Bibber was conscious that his friends were applauding him in dumb +show from the balcony, and when his partner asked who they were, he +repudiated them altogether, and said he could not imagine, but that he +guessed from their bad manners they were professional entertainers hired +for the evening.</p> + +<p>The music stopped abruptly, and as he saw Mrs. West leaving the balcony, +he knew that his turn had come, and as she passed him he applauded her +vociferously, and as no one else applauded even slightly, she grew very +red.</p> + +<p>Her friends knew that they formed the audience which she dreaded, and +she knew that they were rejoicing in her embarrassment, which the head +of the downstairs department, as Mr. Paul described him, increased to an +hysterical point by introducing her as "Miss Ellen Terry, the great +English actress, who would now oblige with a song."</p> + +<p>The man had seen the name of the wonderful English actress on the +bill-boards in front of Abbey's Theatre, and he had been told that Miss +Terrell was English, and con<a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>fused the two names. As he passed Van +Bibber he drew his waistcoat into shape with a proud shrug of his +shoulders, and said, anxiously, "I gave your friend a good introduction, +anyway, didn't I?"</p> + +<p>"You did, indeed," Van Bibber answered. "You couldn't have surprised her +more; and it made a great hit with me, too."</p> + +<p>No one in the room listened to the singing. The gentlemen had crossed +their legs comfortably and were expressing their regret to their +partners that so much time was wasted in sandwiching songs between the +waltzes, and the ladies were engaged in criticizing Celestine's hair, +which she wore in a bun. They thought that it might be English, but it +certainly was not their idea of good style.</p> + +<p>Celestine was conscious of the fact that her husband and Lester were +hanging far over the balcony, holding their hands to their eyes as +though they were opera-glasses, and exclaiming with admiration and +delight; and when she had finished the first verse, they pretended to +think that the song was over, and shouted, "Bravo, encore," and +applauded frantically, and then apparently <a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>overcome with confusion at +their mistake, sank back entirely from sight.</p> + +<p>"I think Miss Terrell's an elegant singer," Van Bibber's partner said to +him. "I seen her at the hotel frequently. She has such a pleasant way +with her, quite lady-like. She's the only actress I ever saw that has +retained her timidity. She acts as though she were shy, don't she?"</p> + +<p>Van Bibber, who had spent a month on the Thames the summer before, with +the Grahame Wests, surveyed Celestine with sudden interest, as though he +had never seen her before until that moment, and agreed that she did +look shy, one might almost say frightened to death. Mrs. West rushed +through the second verse of the song, bowed breathlessly, and ran down +the steps of the stage and back to the refuge of the balcony, while the +audience applauded with perfunctory politeness and called clamorously to +the musicians to "Let her go!"</p> + +<p>"And that is the song," commented Van Bibber, "that gets six encores and +three calls every night on Broadway!"</p> + +<p>Grahame West affected to be greatly chagrined at his wife's failure to +charm the <a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a>chambermaids and porters with her little love-song, and when +his turn came, he left them with alacrity, assuring them that they would +now see the difference, as he would sing a song better suited to their +level.</p> + +<p>But the song that had charmed London and captured the unprotected coast +town of New York, fell on heedless ears; and except the evil ones in the +gallery, no one laughed and no one listened, and Lester declared with +tears in his eyes that he would not go through such an ordeal for the +receipts of an Actors' Fund Benefit.</p> + +<p>Van Bibber's partner caught him laughing at Grahame West's vain efforts +to amuse, and said, tolerantly, that Mr. West was certainly comical, but +that she had a lady friend with her who could recite pieces which were +that comic that you'd die of laughing. She presented her friend to Van +Bibber, and he said he hoped that they were going to hear her recite, as +laughing must be a pleasant death. But the young lady explained that she +had had the misfortune to lose her only brother that summer, and that +she had given up everything but dancing in consequence. She said she did +not think it looked <a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>right to see a girl in mourning recite comic +monologues.</p> + +<p>Van Bibber struggled to be sympathetic, and asked what her brother had +died of? She told him that "he died of a Thursday," and the conversation +came to an embarrassing pause.</p> + +<p>Van Bibber's partner had another friend in a gray corduroy waistcoat and +tan shoes, who was of Hebraic appearance. He also wore several very fine +rings, and officiated with what was certainly religious tolerance at the +M.E. Bethel Church. She said he was an elegant or—gan—ist, putting the +emphasis on the second syllable, which made Van Bibber think that she +was speaking of some religious body to which he belonged. But the +organist made his profession clear by explaining that the committee had +just invited him to oblige the company with a solo on the piano, but +that he had been hitting the champagne so hard that he doubted if he +could tell the keys from the pedals, and he added that if they'd excuse +him he would go to sleep, which he immediately did with his head on the +shoulder of the lady recitationist, who tactfully tried not to notice +that he was there.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>They were all waltzing again, and as Van Bibber guided his partner for +a second time around the room, he noticed a particularly handsome girl +in a walking-dress, who was doing some sort of a fancy step with a +solemn, grave-faced young man in the hotel livery. They seemed by their +manner to know each other very well, and they had apparently practised +the step that they were doing often before.</p> + +<p>The girl was much taller than the man, and was superior to him in every +way. Her movements were freer and less conscious, and she carried her +head and shoulders as though she had never bent them above a broom. Her +complexion was soft and her hair of the finest, deepest auburn. Among +all the girls upon the floor she was the most remarkable, even if her +dancing had not immediately distinguished her.</p> + +<p>The step which she and her partner were exhibiting was one that probably +had been taught her by a professor of dancing at some East Side academy, +at the rate of fifty cents per hour, and which she no doubt believed was +the latest step danced in the gilded halls of the Few Hundred. In this +waltz the two <a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>dancers held each other's hands, and the man swung his +partner behind him, and then would turn and take up the step with her +where they had dropped it; or they swung around and around each other +several times, as people do in fancy skating, and sometimes he spun her +so quickly one way that the skirt of her walking-dress was wound as +tightly around her legs and ankles as a cord around a top, and then as +he swung her in the opposite direction, it unwound again, and wrapped +about her from the other side. They varied this when it pleased them +with balancings and steps and posturings that were not sufficiently +extravagant to bring any comment from the other dancers, but which were +so full of grace and feeling for time and rhythm, that Van Bibber +continually reversed his partner so that he might not for an instant +lose sight of the girl with auburn hair.</p> + +<p>"She is a very remarkable dancer," he said at last, apologetically. "Do +you know who she is?"</p> + +<p>His partner had observed his interest with increasing disapproval, and +she smiled triumphantly now at the chance that his question gave her.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>"She is the seventh floor chambermaid," she said. "I," she added in a +tone which marked the social superiority, "am a checker and marker."</p> + +<p>"Really?" said Van Bibber, with a polite accent of proper awe.</p> + +<p>He decided that he must see more of this Cinderella of the Hotel +Salisbury; and dropping his partner by the side of the lady +recitationist, he bowed his thanks and hurried to the gallery for a +better view.</p> + +<p>When he reached it he found his professional friends hanging over the +railing, watching every movement which the girl made with an intense and +unaffected interest.</p> + +<p>"Have you noticed that girl with red hair?" he asked, as he pulled up a +chair beside them.</p> + +<p>But they only nodded and kept their eyes fastened on the opening in the +crowd through which she had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"There she is," Grahame West cried excitedly, as the girl swept out from +the mass of dancers into the clear space. "Now you can see what I mean, +Celestine," he said. "Where he turns her like that. We could do it in +the shadow-dance in the second <a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>act. It's very pretty. She lets go his +right hand and then he swings her and balances backward until she takes +up the step again, when she faces him. It is very simple and very +effective. Isn't it, George?"</p> + +<p>Lester nodded and said, "Yes, very. She's a born dancer. You can teach +people steps, but you can't teach them to be graceful."</p> + +<p>"She reminds me of Sylvia Grey," said Miss Chamberlain. "There's nothing +violent about it, or faked, is there? It's just the poetry of motion, +without any tricks."</p> + +<p>Lester, who was a trick dancer himself, and Grahame West, who was one of +the best eccentric dancers in England, assented to this cheerfully.</p> + +<p>Van Bibber listened to the comments of the authorities and smiled +grimly. The contrast which their lives presented to that of the young +girl whom they praised so highly, struck him as being most interesting. +Here were two men who had made comic dances a profound and serious +study, and the two women who had lifted dancing to the plane of a fine +art, all envying and complimenting a girl who was doing for her own +pleasure <a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>that which was to them hard work and a livelihood. But while +they were going back the next day to be applauded and petted and praised +by a friendly public, she was to fly like Cinderella, to take up her +sweeping and dusting and the making of beds, and the answering of +peremptory summonses from electric buttons.</p> + +<p>"A good teacher could make her worth one hundred dollars a week in six +lessons," said Lester, dispassionately. "I'd be willing to make her an +offer myself, if I hadn't too many dancers in the piece already."</p> + +<p>"A hundred dollars—that's twenty pounds," said Mrs. Grahame West. "You +do pay such prices over here! But I quite agree that she is very +graceful; and she is so unconscious, too, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>The interest in Cinderella ceased when the waltzing stopped, and the +attention of those in the gallery was riveted with equal intensity upon +Miss Chamberlain and Travers who had faced each other in a quadrille, +Miss Chamberlain having accepted the assistant barkeeper for a partner, +while Travers contented himself with a tall, elderly female, who in +business hours had entire charge of <a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>the linen department. The barkeeper +was a melancholy man with a dyed mustache, and when he asked the English +dancer from what hotel she came, and she, thinking he meant at what +hotel was she stopping, told him, he said that that was a slow place, +and that if she would let him know when she had her night off, he would +be pleased to meet her at the Twenty-third station of the Sixth Avenue +road on the uptown side, and would take her to the theatre, for which, +he explained, he was able to obtain tickets for nothing, as so many men +gave him their return checks for drinks.</p> + +<p>Miss Chamberlain told him in return, that she just doted on the theatre, +and promised to meet him the very next evening. She sent him anonymously +instead two seats in the front row for her performance. She had much +delight the next night in watching his countenance when, after arriving +somewhat late and cross, he recognized the radiant beauty on the stage +as the young person with whom he had condescended to dance.</p> + +<p>When the quadrille was over she introduced him to Travers, and Travers +told him he mixed drinks at the Knickerbocker Club, <a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>and that his +greatest work was a Van Bibber cocktail. And when the barkeeper asked +for the recipe and promised to "push it along," Travers told him he +never made it twice the same, as it depended entirely on his mood.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grahame West and Lester were scandalized at the conduct of these +two young people and ordered the party home, and as the dance was +growing somewhat noisy and the gentlemen were smoking as they danced, +the invited guests made their bows to Mr. Paul and went out into cold, +silent streets, followed by the thanks and compliments of seven +bare-headed and swaying committee-men.</p> + +<p>The next week Lester went on the road with his comic opera company; the +Grahame Wests sailed to England, Letty Chamberlain and the other "Gee +Gees," as Travers called the Gayety Girls, departed for Chicago, and +Travers and Van Bibber were left alone.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The annual ball was a month in the past, when Van Bibber found Travers +at breakfast at their club, and dropped into a chair beside him with a +sigh of weariness and indecision.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>"What's the trouble? Have some breakfast?" said Travers, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, no," said Van Bibber, gazing at his friend doubtfully; "I +want to ask you what you think of this. Do you remember that girl at +that servants' ball?"</p> + +<p>"Which girl?—Tall girl with red hair—did fancy dance? Yes—why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I've been thinking about her lately," said Van Bibber, "and what +they said of her dancing. It seems to me that if it's as good as they +thought it was, the girl ought to be told of it and encouraged. They +evidently meant what they said. It wasn't as though they were talking +about her to her relatives and had to say something pleasant. Lester +thought she could make a hundred dollars a week if she had had six +lessons. Well, six lessons wouldn't cost much, not more than ten dollars +at the most, and a hundred a week for an original outlay of ten is a +good investment."</p> + +<p>Travers nodded his head in assent, and whacked an egg viciously with his +spoon. "What's your scheme?" he said. "Is your idea to help the lady for +her own sake—sort of a philanthropic snap—or as a specu<a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>lation? We +might make it pay as a speculation. You see nobody knows about her +except you and me. We might form her into a sort of stock company and +teach her to dance, and secure her engagements and then take our +commission out of her salary. Is that what you were thinking of doing?"</p> + +<p>"No, that was not my idea," said Van Bibber, smiling. "I hadn't any +plan. I just thought I'd go down to that hotel and tell her that in the +opinion of the four people best qualified to know what good dancing is, +she is a good dancer, and then leave the rest to her. She must have some +friends or relations who would help her to take a start. If it's true +that she can make a hit as a dancer, it seems a pity that she shouldn't +know it, doesn't it? If she succeeded, she'd make a pot of money, and if +she failed she'd be just where she is now."</p> + +<p>Travers considered this subject deeply, with knit brows.</p> + +<p>"That's so," he said. "I'll tell you what let's do. Let's go see some of +the managers of those continuous performance places, and tell them we +have a dark horse that the Grahame Wests and Letty Chamberlain <a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>herself +and George Lester think is the coming dancer of the age, and ask them to +give her a chance. And we'll make some sort of a contract with them. We +ought to fix it so that she is to get bigger money the longer they keep +her in the bill, have her salary on a rising scale. Come on," he +exclaimed, warming to the idea. "Let's go now. What have you got to do?"</p> + +<p>"I've got nothing better to do than just that," Van Bibber declared, +briskly.</p> + +<p>The managers whom they interviewed were interested but non-committal. +They agreed that the girl must be a remarkable dancer indeed to warrant +such praise from such authorities, but they wanted to see her and judge +for themselves, and they asked to be given her address, which the +impresarios refused to disclose. But they secured from the managers the +names of several men who taught fancy dancing, and who prepared +aspirants for the vaudeville stage, and having obtained from them their +prices and their opinion as to how long a time would be required to give +the finishing touches to a dancer already accomplished in the art, they +directed their steps to the Hotel Salisbury.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>"'From the Seventh Story to the Stage,'" said Travers. "She will make +very good newspaper paragraphs, won't she? 'The New American Dancer, +endorsed by Celestine Terrell, Letty Chamberlain, and Cortlandt Van +Bibber.' And we could get her outside engagements to dance at studios +and evening parties after her regular performance, couldn't we?" he +continued. "She ought to ask from fifty to a hundred dollars a night. +With her regular salary that would average about three hundred and fifty +a week. She is probably making three dollars a week now, and eats in the +servants' hall."</p> + +<p>"And then we will send her abroad," interrupted Van Bibber, taking up +the tale, "and she will do the music halls in London. If she plays three +halls a night, say one on the Surrey Side, and Islington, and a smart +West End hall like the Empire or the Alhambra, at fifteen guineas a +turn, that would bring her in five hundred and twenty-five dollars a +week. And then she would go to the Folies Bergère in Paris, and finally +to Petersburg and Milan, and then come back to dance in the Grand Opera +season, under Gus Harris, with a great international <a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>reputation, and +hung with flowers and medals and diamond sun-bursts and things."</p> + +<p>"Rather," said Travers, shaking his head enthusiastically. "And after +that we must invent a new dance for her, with colored lights and +mechanical snaps and things, and have it patented; and finally she will +get her picture on soda-cracker boxes and cigarette advertisements, and +have a race-horse named after her, and give testimonials for nerve +tonics and soap. Does fame reach farther than that?"</p> + +<p>"I think not," said Van Bibber, "unless they give her name to a new make +of bicycle. We must give her a new name, anyway, and rechristen her, +whatever her name may be. We'll call her Cinderella—La Cinderella. That +sounds fine, doesn't it, even if it is rather long for the very largest +type."</p> + +<p>"It isn't much longer than Carmencita," suggested the other. "And people +who have the proud knowledge of knowing her like you and me will call +her 'Cinders' for short. And when we read of her dancing before the Czar +of All the Russias, and leading the ballet at the Grand Opera House in<a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a> +Paris, we'll say, 'that is our handiwork,' and we will feel that we have +not lived in vain."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Seventh floor, please," said Van Bibber to the elevator boy.</p> + +<p>The elevator boy was a young man of serious demeanor, with a +smooth-shaven face and a square, determined jaw. There was something +about him which seemed familiar, but Van Bibber could not determine just +what it was. The elevator stopped to allow some people to leave it at +the second floor, and as the young man shoved the door to again, Van +Bibber asked him if he happened to know of a chambermaid with red hair, +a tall girl on the seventh floor, a girl who danced very well.</p> + +<p>The wire rope of the elevator slipped less rapidly through the hands of +the young man who controlled it, and he turned and fixed his eyes with +sudden interest on Van Bibber's face, and scrutinized him and his +companion with serious consideration.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know her—I know who you mean, anyway," he said. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" echoed Van Bibber, raising his <a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>eyes. "We wish to see her on a +matter of business. Can you tell me her name?"</p> + +<p>The elevator was running so slowly now that its movement upward was +barely perceptible.</p> + +<p>"Her name's Annie—Annie Crehan. Excuse me," said the young man, +doubtfully, "ain't you the young fellows who came to our ball with that +English lady, the one that sung?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Van Bibber assented, pleasantly. "We were there. That's where +I've seen you before. You were there too, weren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Me and Annie was dancing together most all the evening. I seen all +youse watching her."</p> + +<p>"Of course," exclaimed Van Bibber. "I remember you now. Oh, then you +must know her quite well. Maybe you can help us. We want to put her on +the stage."</p> + +<p>The elevator came to a stop with an abrupt jerk, and the young man +shoved his hands behind him, and leaned back against one of the mirrors +in its side.</p> + +<p>"On the stage," he repeated. "Why?"</p> + +<p>Van Bibber smiled and shrugged his shoul<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>ders in some embarrassment at +this peremptory challenge. But there was nothing in the young man's tone +or manner that could give offence. He seemed much in earnest, and spoke +as though they must understand that he had some right to question.</p> + +<p>"Why? Because of her dancing. She is a very remarkable dancer. All of +those actors with us that night said so. You must know that yourself +better than any one else, since you can dance with her. She could make +quite a fortune as a dancer, and we have persuaded several managers to +promise to give her a trial. And if she needs money to pay for lessons, +or to buy the proper dresses and slippers and things, we are willing to +give it to her, or to lend it to her, if she would like that better."</p> + +<p>"Why?" repeated the young man, immovably. His manner was not +encouraging.</p> + +<p>"Why—what?" interrupted Travers, with growing impatience.</p> + +<p>"Why are you willing to give her money? You don't know her."</p> + +<p>Van Bibber looked at Travers, and Travers smiled in some annoyance. The +electric bell rang violently from different floors, but <a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>the young man +did not heed it. He had halted the elevator between two landings, and he +now seated himself on the velvet cushions and crossed one leg over the +other, as though for a protracted debate. Travers gazed about him in +humorous apprehension, as though alarmed at the position in which he +found himself, hung as it were between the earth and sky.</p> + +<p>"I swear I am an unarmed man," he said, in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Our intentions are well meant, I assure you," said Van Bibber, with an +amused smile. "The girl is working ten hours a day for very little +money, isn't she? You know she is, when she could make a great deal of +money by working half as hard. We have some influence with theatrical +people, and we meant merely to put her in the way of bettering her +position, and to give her the chance to do something which she can do +better than many others, while almost any one, I take it, can sweep and +make beds. If she were properly managed, she could become a great +dancer, and delight thousands of people—add to the gayety of nations, +as it were. She's hardly doing that now, is she?<a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a> Have you any +objections to that? What right have you to make objections, anyway?"</p> + +<p>The young man regarded the two young gentlemen before him with a dogged +countenance, but there was now in his eyes a look of helplessness and of +great disquietude.</p> + +<p>"We're engaged to be married, Annie and me," he said. "That's it."</p> + +<p>"Oh," exclaimed Van Bibber, "I beg your pardon. That's different. Well, +in that case, you can help us very much, if you wish. We leave it +entirely with you!"</p> + +<p>"I don't want that you should leave it with me," said the young man, +harshly. "I don't want to have nothing to do with it. Annie can speak +for herself. I knew it was coming to this," he said, leaning forward and +clasping his hands together, "or something like this. I've never felt +dead sure of Annie, never once. I always knew something would happen."</p> + +<p>"Why, nothing has happened," said Van Bibber, soothingly. "You would +both benefit by it. We would be as willing to help two as one. You would +both be better off."</p> + +<p>The young man raised his head and stared at Van Bibber reprovingly.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>"You know better than that," he said. "You know what I'd look like. Of +course she could make money as a dancer, I've known that for some time, +but she hasn't thought of it yet, and she'd never have thought of it +herself. But the question isn't me or what I want. It's Annie. Is she +going to be happier or not, that's the question. And I'm telling you +that she couldn't be any happier than she is now. I know that, too. +We're just as contented as two folks ever was. We've been saving for +three months, and buying furniture from the instalment people, and next +month we were going to move into a flat on Seventh Avenue, quite handy +to the hotel. If she goes onto the stage could she be any happier? And +if you're honest in saying you're thinking of the two of us—I ask you +where would I come in? I'll be pulling this wire rope and she'll be all +over the country, and her friends won't be my friends and her ways won't +be my ways. She'll get out of reach of me in a week, and I won't be in +it. I'm not the sort to go loafing round while my wife supports me, +carrying her satchel for her. And there's nothing I can do but just +<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a>this. She'd come back here some day and live in the front floor suite, +and I'd pull her up and down in this elevator. That's what will happen. +Here's what you two gentlemen are doing." The young man leaned forward +eagerly. "You're offering a change to two people that are as well off +now as they ever hope to be, and they're contented. We don't know +nothin' better. Now, are you dead sure that you're giving us something +better than what we've got? You can't make me any happier than I am, and +as far as Annie knows, up to now, she couldn't be better fixed, and no +one could care for her more.</p> + +<p>"My God! gentlemen," he cried, desperately, "think! She's all I've got. +There's lots of dancers, but she's not a dancer to me, she's just Annie. +I don't want her to delight the gayety of nations. I want her for +myself. Maybe I'm selfish, but I can't help that. She's mine, and you're +trying to take her away from me. Suppose she was your girl, and some one +was sneaking her away from you. You'd try to stop it, wouldn't you, if +she was all you had?" He stopped breathlessly and stared alternately +from one <a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a>to the other of the young men before him. Their countenances +showed an expression of well-bred concern.</p> + +<p>"It's for you to judge," he went on, helplessly; "if you want to take +the responsibility, well and good, that's for you to say. I'm not +stopping you, but she's all I've got."</p> + +<p>The young man stopped, and there was a pause while he eyed them eagerly. +The elevator bell rang out again with vicious indignation.</p> + +<p>Travers struck at the toe of his boot with his stick and straightened +his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I think you're extremely selfish, if you ask me," he said.</p> + +<p>The young man stood up quickly and took his elevator rope in both hands. +"All right," he said, quietly, "that settles it. I'll take you up to +Annie now, and you can arrange it with her. I'm not standing in her +way."</p> + +<p>"Hold on," protested Van Bibber and Travers in a breath. "Don't be in +such a hurry," growled Travers.</p> + +<p>The young man stood immovable, with his hands on the wire and looking +down on them, his face full of doubt and distress.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a>"I don't want to stand in Annie's way," he repeated, as though to +himself. "I'll do whatever you say. I'll take you to the seventh floor +or I'll drop you to the street. It's up to you, gentlemen," he added, +helplessly, and turning his back to them threw his arm against the wall +of the elevator and buried his face upon it.</p> + +<p>There was an embarrassing pause, during which Van Bibber scowled at +himself in the mirror opposite as though to ask it what a man who looked +like that should do under such trying circumstances.</p> + +<p>He turned at last and stared at Travers. "'Where ignorance is bliss, +it's folly to be wise,'" he whispered, keeping his face toward his +friend. "What do you say? Personally I don't see myself in the part of +Providence. It's the case of the poor man and his one ewe lamb, isn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"We don't want his ewe lamb, do we?" growled Travers. "It's a case of +the dog in a manger, I say. I thought we were going to be fairy +godfathers to 'La Cinderella.'"</p> + +<p>"The lady seems to be supplied with a most determined godfather as it +is," returned Van Bibber.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a>The elevator boy raised his face and stared at them with haggard eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he begged.</p> + +<p>Van Bibber smiled upon him reassuringly, with a look partly of respect +and partly of pity.</p> + +<p>"You can drop us to the street," he said.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a></p> +<h3><a name="MISS_DELAMARS_UNDERSTUDY" id="MISS_DELAMARS_UNDERSTUDY"></a>MISS DELAMAR'S UNDERSTUDY</h3> + + +<p>A young man runs two chances of marrying the wrong woman. He marries her +because she is beautiful, and because he persuades himself that every +other lovable attribute must be associated with such beauty, or because +she is in love with him. If this latter is the case, she gives certain +values to what he thinks and to what he says which no other woman gives, +and so he observes to himself, "This is the woman who best understands +<i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>You can reverse this and say that young women run the same risks, but as +men are seldom beautiful, the first danger is eliminated. Women still +marry men, however, because they are loved by them, and in time the +woman grows to depend upon this love and to need it, and is not content +without it, and so she consents to marry the man for no other reason +than because he cares for her.<a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a> For if a dog, even, runs up to you +wagging his tail and acting as though he were glad to see you, you pat +him on the head and say, "What a nice dog." You like him because he +likes you, and not because he belongs to a fine breed of animal and +could take blue ribbons at bench shows.</p> + +<p>This is the story of a young man who was in love with a beautiful woman, +and who allowed her beauty to compensate him for many other things. When +she failed to understand what he said to her he smiled and looked at her +and forgave her at once, and when she began to grow uninteresting, he +would take up his hat and go away, and so he never knew how very +uninteresting she might possibly be if she were given time enough in +which to demonstrate the fact. He never considered that, were he married +to her, he could not take up his hat and go away when she became +uninteresting, and that her remarks, which were not brilliant, could not +be smiled away either. They would rise up and greet him every morning, +and would be the last thing he would hear at night.</p> + +<p>Miss Delamar's beauty was so conspicuous <a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>that to pretend not to notice +it was more foolish than well-bred. You got along more easily and simply +by accepting it at once, and referring to it, and enjoying its effect +upon other people. To go out of one's way to talk of other things when +every one, even Miss Delamar herself, knew what must be uppermost in +your mind, always seemed as absurd as to strain a point in politeness, +and to pretend not to notice that a guest had upset his claret, or any +other embarrassing fact. For Miss Delamar's beauty was so distinctly +embarrassing that this was the only way to meet it,—to smile and pass +it over and to try, if possible, to get on to something else. It was on +account of this extraordinary quality in her appearance that every one +considered her beauty as something which transcended her private +ownership, and which belonged by right to the polite world at large, to +any one who could appreciate it properly, just as though it were a +sunset or a great work of art or of nature. And so, when she gave away +her photographs no one thought it meant anything more serious than a +recognition on her part of the fact that it would have been unkind and +<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a>selfish in her not to have shared the enjoyment of so much loveliness +with others.</p> + +<p>Consequently, when she sent one of her largest and most aggravatingly +beautiful photographs to young Stuart, it was no sign that she cared +especially for him.</p> + +<p>How much young Stuart cared for Miss Delamar, however, was an open +question, and a condition yet to be discovered. That he cared for some +one, and cared so much that his imagination had begun to picture the +awful joys and responsibilities of marriage, was only too well known to +himself, and was a state of mind already suspected by his friends.</p> + +<p>Stuart was a member of the New York bar, and the distinguished law firm +to which he belonged was very proud of its junior member, and treated +him with indulgence and affection, which was not unmixed with amusement. +For Stuart's legal knowledge had been gathered in many odd corners of +the globe, and was various and peculiar. It had been his pleasure to +study the laws by which men ruled other men in every condition of life, +and under every sun. The regulations of a new mining camp were fraught +<a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a>with as great interest to him as the accumulated precedents of the +English Constitution, and he had investigated the rulings of the mixed +courts of Egypt and of the government of the little Dutch republic near +the Cape with as keen an effort to comprehend, as he had shown in +studying the laws of the American colonies and of the Commonwealth of +Massachusetts.</p> + +<p>But he was not always serious, and it sometimes happened that after he +had arrived at some queer little island where the native prince and the +English governor sat in judgment together, his interest in the +intricacies of their laws would give way to the more absorbing +occupation of chasing wild boar or shooting at tigers from the top of an +elephant. And so he was not only regarded as an authority on many forms +of government and of law, into which no one else had ever taken the +trouble to look, but his books on big game were eagerly read and his +articles in the magazines were earnestly discussed, whether they told of +the divorce laws of Dakota, and the legal rights of widows in Cambodia, +or the habits of the Mexican lion.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>Stuart loved his work better than he knew, but how well he loved Miss +Delamar neither he nor his friends could tell. She was the most +beautiful and lovely creature that he had ever seen, and of that only +was he certain.</p> + +<p>Stuart was sitting in the club one day when the conversation turned to +matrimony. He was among his own particular friends, the men before whom +he could speak seriously or foolishly without fear of being +misunderstood or of having what he said retold and spoiled in the +telling. There was Seldon, the actor, and Rives who painted pictures, +and young Sloane, who travelled for pleasure and adventure, and Weimer +who stayed at home and wrote for the reviews. They were all bachelors, +and very good friends, and jealously guarded their little circle from +the intrusion of either men or women.</p> + +<p>"Of course the chief objection to marriage," Stuart said—it was the +very day in which the picture had been sent to his rooms—"is the old +one that you can't tell anything about it until you are committed to it +forever. It is a very silly thing to discuss even, because there is no +way of bringing it <a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a>about, but there really should be some sort of a +preliminary trial. As the man says in the play, 'you wouldn't buy a +watch without testing it first.' You don't buy a hat even without +putting it on, and finding out whether it is becoming or not, or whether +your peculiar style of ugliness can stand it. And yet men go gayly off +and get married, and make the most awful promises, and alter their whole +order of life and risk the happiness of some lovely creature on trust, +as it were, knowing absolutely nothing of the new conditions and +responsibilities of the life before them. Even a river pilot has to +serve an apprenticeship before he gets a license, and yet we are allowed +to take just as great risks, and only because we <i>want</i> to take them. +It's awful, and it's all wrong."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see what one is going to do about it," commented young +Sloane, lightly, "except to get divorced. That road is always open."</p> + +<p>Sloane was starting the next morning for the Somali Country, in +Abyssinia, to shoot rhinoceros, and his interest in matrimony was in +consequence somewhat slight.</p> + +<p>"It isn't the fear of the responsibilities <a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>that keeps Stuart, nor any +one of us back," said Weimer, contemptuously. "It's because we're +selfish. That's the whole truth of the matter. We love our work, or our +pleasure, or to knock about the world, better than we do any particular +woman. When one of us comes to love the woman best, his conscience won't +trouble him long about the responsibilities of marrying her."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Stuart, "I am quite sincere; I maintain that there +should be a preliminary stage. Of course there can't be, and it's absurd +to think of it, but it would save a lot of unhappiness."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Seldon, dryly, "when you've invented a way to prevent +marriage from being a lottery, let me know, will you?" He stood up and +smiled nervously. "Any of you coming to see us to-night?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's so," exclaimed Weimer, "I forgot. It's the first night of 'A +Fool and His Money,' isn't it? Of course we're coming."</p> + +<p>"I told them to put a box away for you in case you wanted it," Seldon +continued. "Don't expect much. It's a silly piece, and I've a silly +part, and I'm very bad in it.<a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a> You must come around to supper, and tell +me where I'm bad in it, and we will talk it over. You coming, Stuart?"</p> + +<p>"My dear old man," said Stuart, reproachfully. "Of course I am. I've had +my seats for the last three weeks. Do you suppose I could miss hearing +you mispronounce all the Hindostanee I've taught you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, good-night then," said the actor, waving his hand to his friends +as he moved away. "'We, who are about to die, salute you!'"</p> + +<p>"Good luck to you," said Sloane, holding up his glass. "To the Fool and +His Money," he laughed. He turned to the table again, and sounded the +bell for the waiter. "Now let's send him a telegram and wish him +success, and all sign it," he said, "and don't you fellows tell him that +I wasn't in front to-night. I've got to go to a dinner the Travellers' +Club are giving me." There was a protesting chorus of remonstrance. "Oh, +I don't like it any better than you do," said Sloane, "but I'll get away +early and join you before the play's over. No one in the Travellers' +Club, you see, has ever travelled farther from New York than London or +the<a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a> Riviera, and so when a member starts for Abyssinia they give him a +dinner, and he has to take himself very seriously indeed, and cry with +Seldon, 'I who am about to die, salute you.' If that man there was any +use," he added, interrupting himself and pointing with his glass at +Stuart, "he'd pack up his things to-night and come with me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't urge him," remonstrated Weimer, who had travelled all over +the world in imagination, with the aid of globes and maps, but never had +got any farther from home than Montreal. "We can't spare Stuart. He has +to stop here and invent a preliminary marriage state, so that if he +finds he doesn't like a girl, he can leave her before it is too late."</p> + +<p>"You sail at seven, I believe, and from Hoboken, don't you?" asked +Stuart undisturbed. "If you'll start at eleven from the New York side, I +think I'll go with you, but I hate getting up early; and then you see—I +know what dangers lurk in Abyssinia, but who could tell what might not +happen to him in Hoboken?"</p> + +<p>When Stuart returned to his room, he <a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a>found a large package set upright +in an armchair and enveloped by many wrappings; but the handwriting on +the outside told him at once from whom it came and what it might be, and +he pounced upon it eagerly and tore it from its covers. The photograph +was a very large one, and the likeness to the original so admirable that +the face seemed to smile and radiate with all the loveliness and beauty +of Miss Delamar herself. Stuart beamed upon it with genuine surprise and +pleasure, and exclaimed delightedly to himself. There was a living +quality about the picture which made him almost speak to it, and thank +Miss Delamar through it for the pleasure she had given him and the honor +she had bestowed. He was proud, flattered, and triumphant, and while he +walked about the room deciding where he would place it, and holding the +picture respectfully before him, he smiled upon it with grateful +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>He decided against his dressing-table as being too intimate a place for +it, and so carried the picture on from his bedroom to the dining-room +beyond, where he set it among his silver on the sideboard. But so +<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a>little of his time was spent in this room that he concluded he would +derive but little pleasure from it there, and so bore it back again into +his library, where there were many other photographs and portraits, and +where to other eyes than his own it would be less conspicuous.</p> + +<p>He tried it first in one place and then in another; but in each position +the picture predominated and asserted itself so markedly, that Stuart +gave up the idea of keeping it inconspicuous, and placed it prominently +over the fire-place, where it reigned supreme above every other object +in the room. It was not only the most conspicuous object there, but the +living quality which it possessed in so marked a degree, and which was +due to its naturalness of pose and the excellence of the likeness, made +it permeate the place like a presence and with the individuality of a +real person. Stuart observed this effect with amused interest, and noted +also that the photographs of other women had become commonplace in +comparison like lithographs in a shop window, and that the more +masculine accessories of a bachelor's apartment had grown suddenly +aggressive <a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a>and out of keeping. The liquor case and the racks of arms +and of barbarous weapons which he had collected with such pride seemed +to have lost their former value and meaning, and he instinctively began +to gather up the mass of books and maps and photographs and pipes and +gloves which lay scattered upon the table, and to put them in their +proper place, or to shove them out of sight altogether. "If I'm to live +up to that picture," he thought, "I must see that George keeps this room +in better order—and I must stop wandering round here in my bath-robe."</p> + +<p>His mind continued on the picture while he was dressing, and he was so +absorbed in it and in analyzing the effect it had had upon him, that his +servant spoke twice before he heard him.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, "I shall not dine here to-night." Dining at home was +with him a very simple affair, and a somewhat lonely one, and he avoided +it almost nightly by indulging himself in a more expensive fashion.</p> + +<p>But even as he spoke an idea came to Stuart which made him reconsider +his determination, and which struck him as so amus<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>ing, that he stopped +pulling at his tie and smiled delightedly at himself in the glass before +him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, still smiling, "I will dine here to-night. Get me +anything in a hurry. You need not wait now; go get the dinner up as soon +as possible."</p> + +<p>The effect which the photograph of Miss Delamar had upon him, and the +transformation it had accomplished in his room, had been as great as +would have marked the presence there of the girl herself. While +considering this it had come to Stuart, like a flash of inspiration, +that here was a way by which he could test the responsibilities and +conditions of married life without compromising either himself, or the +girl to whom he would suppose himself to be married.</p> + +<p>"I will put that picture at the head of the table," he said, "and I will +play that it is she herself, her own, beautiful, lovely self, and I will +talk to her and exchange views with her, and make her answer me just as +she would were we actually married and settled." He looked at his watch +and found it was just seven o'clock. "I will begin <a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a>now," he said, "and +I will keep up the delusion until midnight. To-night is the best time to +try the experiment because the picture is new now, and its influence +will be all the more real. In a few weeks it may have lost some of its +freshness and reality and will have become one of the fixtures in the +room."</p> + +<p>Stuart decided that under these new conditions it would be more pleasant +to dine at Delmonico's, and he was on the point of asking the Picture +what she thought of it, when he remembered that while it had been +possible for him to make a practice of dining at that place as a +bachelor, he could not now afford so expensive a luxury, and he decided +that he had better economize in that particular and go instead to one of +the table d'hôte restaurants in the neighborhood. He regretted not +having thought of this sooner, for he did not care to dine at a table +d'hôte in evening dress, as in some places it rendered him conspicuous. +So, sooner than have this happen he decided to dine at home, as he had +originally intended when he first thought of attempting this experiment, +and then conducted the picture into dinner and placed <a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a>her in an +armchair facing him, with the candles full upon the face.</p> + +<p>"Now this is something like," he exclaimed, joyously. "I can't imagine +anything better than this. Here we are all to ourselves with no one to +bother us, with no chaperone, or chaperone's husband either, which is +generally worse. Why is it, my dear," he asked gayly, in a tone that he +considered affectionate and husbandly, "that the attractive chaperones +are always handicapped by such stupid husbands, and vice versa?"</p> + +<p>"If that is true," replied the Picture, or replied Stuart, rather, for +the picture, "I cannot be a very attractive chaperone." Stuart bowed +politely at this, and then considered the point it had raised as to +whether he had, in assuming both characters, the right to pay himself +compliments. He decided against himself in this particular instance, but +agreed that he was not responsible for anything the Picture might say, +so long as he sincerely and fairly tried to make it answer him as he +thought the original would do under like circumstances. From what he +knew of the original under other <a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a>conditions, he decided that he could +give a very close imitation of her point of view.</p> + +<p>Stuart's interest in his dinner was so real that he found himself +neglecting his wife, and he had to pull himself up to his duty with a +sharp reproof. After smiling back at her for a moment or two until his +servant had again left them alone, he asked her to tell him what she had +been doing during the day.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing very important," said the Picture. "I went shopping in the +morning and—"</p> + +<p>Stuart stopped himself and considered this last remark doubtfully. "Now, +how do I know she would go shopping?" he asked himself. "People from +Harlem and women who like bargain counters, and who eat chocolate +meringue for lunch, and then stop in at a continuous performance, go +shopping. It must be the comic paper sort of wives who go about matching +shades and buying hooks and eyes. Yes, I must have made Miss Delamar's +understudy misrepresent her. I beg your pardon, my dear," he said aloud +to the Picture. "You did <i>not</i> go shopping this morning. You <a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a>probably +went to a woman's luncheon somewhere. Tell me about that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I went to lunch with the Antwerps," said the Picture, "and +they had that Russian woman there who is getting up subscriptions for +the Siberian prisoners. It's rather fine of her because it exiles her +from Russia. And she is a princess."</p> + +<p>"That's nothing," Stuart interrupted, "they're all princesses when you +see them on Broadway."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said the Picture.</p> + +<p>"It's of no consequence," said Stuart, apologetically, "it's a comic +song. I forgot you didn't like comic songs. Well—go on."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then I went to a tea, and then I stopped in to hear Madame Ruvier +read a paper on the Ethics of Ibsen, and she—"</p> + +<p>Stuart's voice had died away gradually, and he caught himself wondering +whether he had told George to lay in a fresh supply of cigars. "I beg +your pardon," he said, briskly, "I was listening, but I was just +wondering whether I had any cigars left. You were saying that you had +been at Madame Ruvier's, and—"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a>"I am afraid that you were not interested," said the Picture. "Never +mind, it's my fault. Sometimes I think I ought to do things of more +interest, so that I should have something to talk to you about when you +come home."</p> + +<p>Stuart wondered at what hour he would come home now that he was married. +As a bachelor he had been in the habit of stopping on his way up town +from the law office at the club, or to take tea at the houses of the +different girls he liked. Of course he could not do that now as a +married man. He would instead have to limit his calls to married women, +as all the other married men of his acquaintance did. But at the moment +he could not think of any attractive married women who would like his +dropping in on them in such a familiar manner, and the other sort did +not as yet appeal to him.</p> + +<p>He seated himself in front of the coal-fire in the library, with the +Picture in a chair close beside him, and as he puffed pleasantly on his +cigar he thought how well this suited him, and how delightful it was to +find content in so simple and continuing a pleasure. He could almost +feel the pressure of his <a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a>wife's hand as it lay in his own, as they sat +in silent sympathy looking into the friendly glow of the fire.</p> + +<p>There was a long pleasant pause.</p> + +<p>"They're giving Sloane a dinner to-night at the 'Travellers'," Stuart +said at last, "in honor of his going to Abyssinia."</p> + +<p>Stuart pondered for some short time as to what sort of a reply Miss +Delamar's understudy ought to make to this innocent remark. He recalled +the fact that on numerous occasions the original had shown not only a +lack of knowledge in far-away places, but what was more trying, a lack +of interest as well. For the moment he could not see her robbed of her +pretty environment and tramping through undiscovered countries at his +side. So the Picture's reply, when it came, was strictly in keeping with +several remarks which Miss Delamar herself had made to him in the past.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Picture, politely, "and where is Abyssinia—in India, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"No, not exactly," corrected Stuart, mildly; "you pass it on your way to +India, though, as you go through the Red Sea. Sloane is taking +Winchesters with him and a double <a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a>express and a 'five fifty.' He wants +to test their penetration. I think myself that the express is the best, +but he says Selous and Chanler think very highly of the Winchester. I +don't know, I never shot a rhinoceros. The time I killed that elephant," +he went on, pointing at two tusks that stood with some assegais in a +corner, "I used an express, and I had to let go with both barrels. I +suppose, though, if I'd needed a third shot I'd have wished it was a +Winchester. He was charging the smoke, you see, and I couldn't get away +because I'd caught my foot—but I told you about that, didn't I?" Stuart +interrupted himself to ask politely.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Picture, cheerfully, "I remember it very well; it was +very foolish of you."</p> + +<p>Stuart straightened himself with a slightly injured air and avoided the +Picture's eye. He had been stopped midway in what was one of his +favorite stories, and it took a brief space of time for him to recover +himself, and to sink back again into the pleasant lethargy in which he +had been basking.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a>"Still," he said, "I think the express is the better gun."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is an 'express' a gun?" exclaimed the Picture, with sudden +interest. "Of course, I might have known."</p> + +<p>Stuart turned in his chair and surveyed the Picture in some surprise. +"But, my dear girl," he remonstrated kindly, "why didn't you ask, if you +didn't know what I was talking about. What did you suppose it was?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know," said the Picture, "I thought it was something to do +with his luggage. Abyssinia sounds so far away," she explained, smiling +sweetly. "You can't expect one to be interested in such queer places, +can you?"</p> + +<p>"No," Stuart answered, reluctantly, and looking steadily at the fire, "I +suppose not. But you see, my dear," he said, "I'd have gone with him, if +I hadn't married you, and so I am naturally interested in his outfit. +They wanted me to make a comparative study of the little +semi-independent states down there, and of how far the Italian +government allows them to rule themselves. That's what I was to have +done."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a>But the Picture hastened to reassure him. "Oh, you mustn't think," she +exclaimed, quickly, "that I mean to keep you at home. I love to travel, +too. I want you to go on exploring places just as you've always done, +only now I will go with you. We might do the Cathedral towns, for +instance."</p> + +<p>"The what!" gasped Stuart, raising his head. "Oh, yes, of course," he +added, hurriedly, sinking back into his chair with a slightly bewildered +expression. "That would be very nice. Perhaps your mother would like to +go too; it's not a dangerous expedition, is it? I <i>was</i> thinking of +taking you on a trip through the South Seas—but I suppose the Cathedral +towns are just as exciting. Or we might even penetrate as far into the +interior as the English lakes and read Wordsworth and Coleridge as we +go."</p> + +<p>Miss Delamar's understudy observed him closely for a moment, but he made +no sign, and so she turned her eyes again to the fire with a slightly +troubled look. She had not a strong sense of humor, but she was very +beautiful.</p> + +<p>Stuart's conscience troubled him for the next few moments, and he +endeavored to <a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a>make up for his impatience of the moment before, by +telling the Picture how particularly well she was looking.</p> + +<p>"It seems almost selfish to keep it all to myself," he mused.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean," inquired the Picture, with tender anxiety, "that you +want any one else here, do you? I'm sure I could be content to spend +every evening like this. I've had enough of going out and talking to +people I don't care about. Two seasons," she added, with the superior +air of one who has put away childish things, "was quite enough of it for +me."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never took it as seriously as that," said Stuart, "but, of +course, I don't want any one else here to spoil our evening. It is +perfect."</p> + +<p>He assured himself that it <i>was</i> perfect, but he wondered what was the +loyal thing for a married couple to do when the conversation came to a +dead stop. And did the conversation come to a stop because they +preferred to sit in silent sympathy and communion, or because they had +nothing interesting to talk about? Stuart doubted if silence was the +truest expression of the most perfect confi<a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a>dence and sympathy. He +generally found when he was interested, that either he or his companion +talked all the time. It was when he was bored that he sat silent. But it +was probably different with married people. Possibly they thought of +each other during these pauses, and of their own affairs and interests, +and then he asked himself how many interests could one fairly retain +with which the other had nothing to do?</p> + +<p>"I suppose," thought Stuart, "that I had better compromise and read +aloud. Should you like me to read aloud?" he asked, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>The Picture brightened perceptibly at this, and said that she thought +that would be charming. "We might make it quite instructive," she +suggested, entering eagerly into the idea. "We ought to agree to read so +many pages every night. Suppose we begin with Guizot's 'History of +France.' I have always meant to read that, the illustrations look so +interesting."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we might do that," assented Stuart, doubtfully. "It is in six +volumes, isn't it? Suppose now, instead," he suggested, with an +impartial air, "we begin that to-morrow <a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>night, and go this evening to +see Seldon's new play, 'The Fool and His Money.' It's not too late, and +he has saved a box for us, and Weimer and Rives and Sloane will be +there, and—"</p> + +<p>The Picture's beautiful face settled for just an instant in an +expression of disappointment. "Of course," she replied slowly, "if you +wish it. But I thought you said," she went on with a sweet smile, "that +this was perfect. Now you want to go out again. Isn't this better than a +hot theatre? You might put up with it for one evening, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>"Put up with it!" exclaimed Stuart, enthusiastically; "I could spend +every evening so. It was only a suggestion. It wasn't that I wanted to +go so much as that I thought Seldon might be a little hurt if I didn't. +But I can tell him you were not feeling very well, and that we will come +some other evening. He generally likes to have us there on the first +night, that's all. But he'll understand."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said the Picture, "if you put it in the light of a duty to your +friend, of course we will go."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a>"Not at all," replied Stuart, heartily; "I will read something. I +should really prefer it. How would you like something of Browning's?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I read all of Browning once," said the Picture, "I think I should +like something new."</p> + +<p>Stuart gasped at this, but said nothing, and began turning over the +books on the centre table. He selected one of the monthly magazines, and +choosing a story which neither of them had read, sat down comfortably in +front of the fire, and finished it without interruption and to the +satisfaction of the Picture and himself. The story had made the half +hour pass very pleasantly, and they both commented on it with interest.</p> + +<p>"I had an experience once myself something like that," said Stuart, with +a pleased smile of recollection; "it happened in Paris"—he began with +the deliberation of a man who is sure of his story—"and it turned out +in much the same way. It didn't begin in Paris; it really began while we +were crossing the English Channel to—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean about the Russian who took you for some one else and had +you fol<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a>lowed," said the Picture. "Yes, that was like it, except that in +your case nothing happened."</p> + +<p>Stuart took his cigar from between his lips and frowned severely at the +lighted end for some little time before he spoke.</p> + +<p>"My dear," he remonstrated, gently, "you mustn't tell me I've told you +all my old stories before. It isn't fair. Now that I'm married, you see, +I can't go about and have new experiences, and I've got to make use of +the old ones."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry," exclaimed the Picture, remorsefully. "I didn't mean +to be rude. Please tell me about it. I should like to hear it again, +ever so much. I <i>should</i> like to hear it again, really."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Stuart, laughing and shaking his head. "I was only +joking; personally I hate people who tell long stories. That doesn't +matter. I was thinking of something else."</p> + +<p>He continued thinking of something else, which was, that though he had +been in jest when he spoke of having given up the chance of meeting +fresh experiences, he had nevertheless described a condition, and a +painfully <a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a>true one. His real life seemed to have stopped, and he saw +himself in the future looking back and referring to it, as though it +were the career of an entirely different person, of a young man, with +quick sympathies which required satisfying, as any appetite requires +food. And he had an uncomfortable doubt that these many ever-ready +sympathies would rebel if fed on only one diet.</p> + +<p>The Picture did not interrupt him in his thoughts, and he let his mind +follow his eyes as they wandered over the objects above him on the +mantle-shelf. They all meant something from the past,—a busy, wholesome +past which had formed habits of thought and action, habits he could no +longer enjoy alone, and which, on the other hand, it was quite +impossible for him to share with any one else. He was no longer to be +alone.</p> + +<p>Stuart stirred uneasily in his chair and poked at the fire before him.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember the day you came to see me," said the Picture, +sentimentally, "and built the fire yourself and lighted some girl's +letters to make it burn?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Stuart, "that is, I <i>said</i> that <a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>they were some girl's +letters. It made it more picturesque. I am afraid they were bills. I +should say I did remember it," he continued, enthusiastically. "You wore +a black dress and little red slippers with big black rosettes, and you +looked as beautiful as—as night—as a moonlight night."</p> + +<p>The Picture frowned slightly.</p> + +<p>"You are always telling me about how I looked," she complained; "can't +you remember any time when we were together without remembering what I +had on and how I appeared?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot," said Stuart, promptly. "I can recall lots of other things +besides, but I can't forget how you looked. You have a fashion of +emphasizing episodes in that way which is entirely your own. But, as I +say, I can remember something else. Do you remember, for instance, when +we went up to West Point on that yacht? Wasn't it a grand day, with the +autumn leaves on both sides of the Hudson, and the dress parade, and the +dance afterward at the hotel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I should think I did," said the Picture, smiling. "You spent all +your time examining cannon, and talking to the men <a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>about 'firing in +open order,' and left me all alone."</p> + +<p>"Left you all alone! I like that," laughed Stuart; "all alone with about +eighteen officers."</p> + +<p>"Well, but that was natural," returned the Picture. "They were men. It's +natural for a girl to talk to men, but why should a man want to talk to +men?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I know better than that now," said Stuart.</p> + +<p>He proceeded to show that he knew better by remaining silent for the +next half hour, during which time he continued to wonder whether this +effort to keep up a conversation was not radically wrong. He thought of +several things he might say, but he argued that it was an impossible +situation where a man had to make conversation with his own wife.</p> + +<p>The clock struck ten as he sat waiting, and he moved uneasily in his +chair.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked the Picture; "what makes you so restless?"</p> + +<p>Stuart regarded the Picture timidly for a moment before he spoke. "I was +just thinking," he said, doubtfully, "that we <a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a>might run down after all, +and take a look in at the last act; it's not too late even now. They're +sure to run behind on the first night. And then," he urged, "we can go +around and see Seldon. You have never been behind the scenes, have you? +It's very interesting."</p> + +<p>"No, I have not, but if we do," remonstrated the Picture, pathetically, +"you <i>know</i> all those men will come trooping home with us. You know they +will."</p> + +<p>"But that's very complimentary," said Stuart. "Why, I like my friends to +like my wife."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you know how they stay when they get here," she answered; "I +don't believe they ever sleep. Don't you remember the last supper you +gave me before we were married, when Mrs. Starr and you all were +discussing Mr. Seldon's play? She didn't make a move to go until half +past two, and I was <i>that</i> sleepy, I couldn't keep my eyes open."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Stuart, "I remember. I'm sorry. I thought it was very +interesting. Seldon changed the whole second act on account of what she +said. Well, after this,"<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a> he laughed with cheerful desperation, "I think +I shall make up for the part of a married man in a pair of slippers and +a dressing-gown, and then perhaps I won't be tempted to roam abroad at +night."</p> + +<p>"You must wear the gown they are going to give you at Oxford," said the +Picture, smiling placidly. "The one Aunt Lucy was telling me about. Why +do they give you a gown?" she asked. "It seems such an odd thing to do."</p> + +<p>"The gown comes with the degree, I believe," said Stuart.</p> + +<p>"But why do they give <i>you</i> a degree?" persisted the Picture; "you never +studied at Oxford, did you?"</p> + +<p>Stuart moved slightly in his chair and shook his head. "I thought I told +you," he said, gently. "No, I never studied there. I wrote some books +on—things, and they liked them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I remember now, you did tell me," said the Picture; "and I +told Aunt Lucy about it, and said we would be in England during the +season, when you got your degree, and she said you must be awfully +clever to get it. You see—she does <a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a>appreciate you, and you always +treat her so distantly."</p> + +<p>"Do I?" said Stuart; quietly; "I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"Will you have your portrait painted in it?" asked the Picture.</p> + +<p>"In what?"</p> + +<p>"In the gown. You are not listening," said the Picture, reproachfully. +"You ought to. Aunt Lucy says it's a beautiful shade of red silk, and +very long. Is it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Stuart, he shook his head, and dropping his chin +into his hands, stared coldly down into the fire. He tried to persuade +himself that he had been vainglorious, and that he had given too much +weight to the honor which the University of Oxford would bestow upon +him; that he had taken the degree too seriously, and that the Picture's +view of it was the view of the rest of the world. But he could not +convince himself that he was entirely at fault.</p> + +<p>"Is it too late to begin on Guizot?" suggested his Picture, as an +alternative to his plan. "It sounds so improving."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is much too late," answered Stuart, decidedly. "Besides, I +don't want <a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>to be improved. I want to be amused, or inspired, or +scolded. The chief good of friends is that they do one of these three +things, and a wife should do all three."</p> + +<p>"Which shall I do?" asked the Picture, smiling good-humoredly.</p> + +<p>Stuart looked at the beautiful face and at the reclining figure of the +woman to whom he was to turn for sympathy for the rest of his life, and +felt a cold shiver of terror, that passed as quickly as it came. He +reached out his hand and placed it on the arm of the chair where his +wife's hand should have been, and patted the place kindly. He would shut +his eyes to everything but that she was good and sweet and his wife. +Whatever else she lacked that her beauty had covered up and hidden, and +the want of which had lain unsuspected in their previous formal +intercourse, could not be mended now. He would settle his step to hers, +and eliminate all those interests from his life which were not hers as +well. He had chosen a beautiful idol, and not a companion, for a wife. +He had tried to warm his hands at the fire of a diamond.</p> + +<p>Stuart's eyes closed wearily as though to <a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a>shut out the memories of the +past, or the foreknowledge of what the future was sure to be. His head +sank forward on his breast, and with his hand shading his eyes, he +looked beyond, through the dying fire, into the succeeding years.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The gay little French clock on the table sounded the hour of midnight +briskly, with a pert insistent clamor, and at the same instant a +boisterous and unruly knocking answered it from outside the library +door.</p> + +<p>Stuart rose uncertainly from his chair and surveyed the tiny clock face +with a startled expression of bewilderment and relief.</p> + +<p>"Stuart!" his friends called impatiently from the hall. "Stuart, let us +in!" and without waiting further for recognition a merry company of +gentlemen pushed their way noisily into the room.</p> + +<p>"Where the devil have you been?" demanded Weimer. "You don't deserve to +be spoken to at all after quitting us like that. But Seldon is so +good-natured," he went on, "that he sent us after you. It was a great +success, and he made a rattling good speech, and you missed the whole +thing; and you <a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a>ought to be ashamed of yourself. We've asked half the +people in front to supper—two stray Englishmen, all the Wilton girls +and their governor, and the chap that wrote the play. And Seldon and his +brother Sam are coming as soon as they get their make-up off. Don't +stand there like that, but hurry. What have you been doing?"</p> + +<p>Stuart gave a nervous, anxious laugh. "Oh, don't ask me," he cried. "It +was awful. I've been trying an experiment, and I had to keep it up until +midnight, and—I'm so glad you fellows have come," he continued, halting +midway in his explanation. "I <i>was</i> blue."</p> + +<p>"You've been asleep in front of the fire," said young Sloane, "and +you've been dreaming."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," laughed Stuart, gayly, "perhaps. But I'm awake now in any +event. Sloane, old man," he cried, dropping both hands on the +youngster's shoulders. "How much money have you? Enough to take me to +Gibraltar? They can cable me the rest."</p> + +<p>"Hoorah!" shouted Sloane, waltzing from one end of the room to the +other. "And <a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a>we're off to Ab-yss-in-ia in the morn-ing," he sang. +"There's plenty in my money belt," he cried, slapping his sides, "you +can hear the ten-pound notes crackle whenever I breathe, and it's all +yours, my dear boy, and welcome. And I'll prove to you that the +Winchester is the better gun."</p> + +<p>"All right," returned Stuart, gayly, "and I'll try to prove that the +Italians don't know how to govern a native state. But who is giving this +supper, anyway?" he demanded. "That is the main thing—that's what I +want to know."</p> + +<p>"You've got to pack, haven't you?" suggested Rives.</p> + +<p>"I'll pack when I get back," said Stuart, struggling into his greatcoat, +and searching in his pockets for his gloves. "Besides, my things are +always ready and there's plenty of time, the boat doesn't leave for six +hours yet."</p> + +<p>"We'll all come back and help," said Weimer.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll never get away," laughed Stuart. He was radiant, happy, and +excited, like a boy back from school for the holidays. But when they had +reached the pavement, he halted and <a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a>ran his hand down into his pocket, +as though feeling for his latch-key, and stood looking doubtfully at his +friends.</p> + +<p>"What is it now?" asked Rives, impatiently. "Have you forgotten +something?"</p> + +<p>Stuart looked back at the front door in momentary indecision.</p> + +<p>"Y-es," he answered. "I did forget something. But it doesn't matter," he +added, cheerfully, taking Sloane's arm.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he said, "and so Seldon made a hit, did he? I am glad—and +tell me, old man, how long will we have to wait at Gib for the P. & O.?"</p> + +<p>Stuart's servant had heard the men trooping down the stairs, laughing +and calling to one another as they went, and judging from this that they +had departed for the night, he put out all the lights in the library and +closed the piano, and lifted the windows to clear the room of the +tobacco-smoke. He did not notice the beautiful photograph sitting +upright in the armchair before the fireplace, and so left it alone in +the deserted library.</p> + +<p>The cold night-air swept in through the open window and chilled the +silent room, and the dead coals in the grate dropped one by <a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>one into +the fender with a dismal echoing clatter; but the Picture still sat in +the armchair with the same graceful pose and the same lovely expression, +and smiled sweetly at the encircling darkness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a></p> +<h3><a name="THE_EDITORS_STORY" id="THE_EDITORS_STORY"></a>THE EDITOR'S STORY</h3> + + +<p>It was a warm afternoon in the early spring, and the air in the office +was close and heavy. The letters of the morning had been answered and +the proofs corrected, and the gentlemen who had come with ideas worth +one column at space rates, and which they thought worth three, had +compromised with the editor on a basis of two, and departed. The +editor's desk was covered with manuscripts in a heap, a heap that never +seemed to grow less, and each manuscript bore a character of its own, as +marked or as unobtrusive as the character of the man or of the woman who +had written it, which disclosed itself in the care with which some were +presented for consideration, in the vain little ribbons of others, or +the selfish manner in which still others were tightly rolled or vilely +scribbled.</p> + +<p>The editor held the first page of a poem in his hand, and was reading it +mechanically, <a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a>for its length had already declared against it, unless it +might chance to be the precious gem out of a thousand, which must be +chosen in spite of its twenty stanzas. But as the editor read, his +interest awakened, and he scanned the verses again, as one would turn to +look a second time at a face which seemed familiar. At the fourth stanza +his memory was still in doubt, at the sixth it was warming to the chase, +and at the end of the page was in full cry. He caught up the second page +and looked for the final verse, and then at the name below, and then +back again quickly to the title of the poem, and pushed aside the papers +on his desk in search of any note which might have accompanied it.</p> + +<p>The name signed at the bottom of the second page was Edwin Aram, the +title of the poem was "Bohemia," and there was no accompanying note, +only the name Berkeley written at the top of the first page. The +envelope in which it had come gave no further clew. It was addressed in +the same handwriting as that in which the poem had been written, and it +bore the post-mark of New York city. There was no request for the return +of the poem, no direction to which <a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a>either the poem itself or the check +for its payment in the event of its acceptance might be sent. Berkeley +might be the name of an apartment-house or of a country place or of a +suburban town.</p> + +<p>The editor stepped out of his office into the larger room beyond and +said: "I've a poem here that appeared in an American magazine about +seven years ago. I remember the date because I read it when I was at +college. Some one is either trying to play a trick on us, or to get +money by stealing some other man's brains."</p> + +<p>It was in this way that Edwin Aram first introduced himself to our +office, and while his poem was not accepted, it was not returned. On the +contrary, Mr. Aram became to us one of the most interesting of our +would-be contributors, and there was no author, no matter of what +popularity, for whose work we waited with greater impatience. But Mr. +Aram's personality still remained as completely hidden from us as were +the productions which he offered from the sight of our subscribers. For +each of the poems he sent had been stolen outright and signed with his +name.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a>It was through no fault of ours that he continued to blush unseen, or +that his pretty taste in poems was unappreciated by the general reader. +We followed up every clew and every hint he chose to give us with an +enthusiasm worthy of a search after a lost explorer, and with an animus +worthy of better game. Yet there was some reason for our interest. The +man who steals the work of another and who passes it off as his own is +the special foe of every editor, but this particular editor had a +personal distrust of Mr. Aram. He imagined that these poems might +possibly be a trap which some one had laid for him with the purpose of +drawing him into printing them, and then of pointing out by this fact +how little read he was, and how unfit to occupy the swivel-chair into +which he had so lately dropped. Or if this were not the case, the man +was in any event the enemy of all honest people, who look unkindly on +those who try to obtain money by false pretences.</p> + +<p>The evasions of Edwin Aram were many, and his methods to avoid detection +not without skill. His second poem was written on a sheet of note-paper +bearing the legend "The<a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a> Shakespeare Debating Club. Edwin Aram, +President."</p> + +<p>This was intended to reassure us as to his literary taste and standard, +and to meet any suspicion we might feel had there been no address of any +sort accompanying the poem. No one we knew had ever heard of a +Shakespeare Debating Club in New York city. But we gave him the benefit +of the doubt until we found that this poem, like the first, was also +stolen. His third poem bore his name and an address, which on instant +inquiry turned out to be that of a vacant lot on Seventh Avenue near +Central Park.</p> + +<p>Edwin Aram had by this time become an exasperating and picturesque +individual, and the editorial staff was divided in its opinion +concerning him. It was argued on one hand that as the man had never sent +us a real address, his object must be to gain a literary reputation at +the expense of certain poets, and not to make money at ours. Others +answered this by saying that fear of detection alone kept Edwin Aram +from sending his real address, but that as soon as his poem was printed, +and he ascertained by that fact that he had not been discovered, he +would put in <a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a>an application for payment, and let us know quickly enough +to what portion of New York city his check should be forwarded.</p> + +<p>This, however, presupposed the fact that he was writing to us over his +real name, which we did not believe he would dare to do. No one in our +little circle of journalists and literary men had ever heard of such a +man, and his name did not appear in the directory. This fact, however, +was not convincing in itself, as the residents of New York move from +flat to hotel, and from apartments to boarding-houses as frequently as +the Arab changes his camping-ground. We tried to draw him out at last by +publishing a personal paragraph which stated that several contributions +received from Edwin Aram would be returned to him if he would send +stamps and his present address. The editor did not add that he would +return the poems in person, but such was his warlike intention.</p> + +<p>This had the desired result, and brought us a fourth poem and a fourth +address, the name of a tall building which towers above Union Square. We +seemed to be getting very warm now, and the editor gathered up the four +poems, and called to his aid his friend Bron<a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a>son, the ablest reporter on +the New York ——, who was to act as chronicler. They took with them +letters from the authors of two of the poems and from the editor of the +magazine in which the first one had originally appeared, testifying to +the fact that Edwin Aram had made an exact copy of the original, and +wishing the brother editor good luck in catching the plagiarist.</p> + +<p>The reporter looked these over with a critical eye. "The City Editor +told me if we caught him," he said, "that I could let it run for all it +was worth. I can use these names, I suppose, and I guess they have +pictures of the poets at the office. If he turns out to be anybody in +particular, it ought to be worth a full three columns. Sunday paper, +too."</p> + +<p>The amateur detectives stood in the lower hall in the tall building, +between swinging doors, and jostled by hurrying hundreds, while they +read the names on a marble directory.</p> + +<p>"There he is!" said the editor, excitedly. "'American Literary Bureau.' +One room on the fourteenth floor. That's just the sort of a place in +which we would be likely to find him." But the reporter was gazing +open-eyed <a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>at a name in large letters on an office door. "Edward K. +Aram," it read, "Commissioner of ——, and City ——."</p> + +<p>"What do you think of <i>that</i>?" he gasped, triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said the editor. "He wouldn't dare; besides, the initials +are different. You're expecting too good a story."</p> + +<p>"That's the way to get them," answered the reporter, as he hurried +towards the office of the City ——. "If a man falls dead, believe it's a +suicide until you prove it's not; if you find a suicide, believe it's a +murder until you are convinced to the contrary. Otherwise you'll get +beaten. We don't want the proprietor of a little literary bureau, we +want a big city official and I'll believe we have one until he proves we +haven't."</p> + +<p>"Which are you going to ask for?" whispered the editor, "Edward K. or +Edwin?"</p> + +<p>"Edwin, I should say," answered the reporter. "He has probably given +notice that mail addressed that way should go to him."</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Edwin Aram in?" he asked.</p> + +<p>A clerk raised his head and looked behind him. "No," he said; "his desk +is closed. I guess he's gone home for the day."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a>The reporter nudged the editor savagely with his elbow, but his face +gave no sign. "That's a pity," he said; "we have an appointment with +him. He still lives at Sixty-first Street and Madison Avenue, I believe, +does he not?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the clerk; "that's his father, the Commissioner, Edward K. +The son lives at ——. Take the Sixth Avenue elevated and get off at +116th Street."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said the reporter. He turned a triumphant smile upon the +editor. "We've got him!" he said, excitedly. "And the son of old Edward +K., too! Think of it! Trying to steal a few dollars by cribbing other +men's poems; that's the best story there has been in the papers for the +past three months,—'Edward K. Aram's son a thief!' Look at the +names—politicians, poets, editors, all mixed up in it. It's good for +three columns, sure."</p> + +<p>"We've got to think of his people, too," urged the editor, as they +mounted the steps of the elevated road.</p> + +<p>"He didn't think of them," said the reporter.</p> + +<p>The house in which Mr. Aram lived was an <a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a>apartment-house, and the brass +latchets in the hallway showed that it contained three suites. There +were visiting-cards under the latchets of the first and third stories, +and under that of the second a piece of note-paper on which was written +the autograph of Edwin Aram. The editor looked at it curiously. He had +never believed it to be a real name.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry Edwin Aram did not turn out to be a woman," he said, +regretfully; "it would have been so much more interesting."</p> + +<p>"Now," instructed Bronson, impressively, "whether he is in or not we +have him. If he's not in, we wait until he comes, even if he doesn't +come until morning; we don't leave this place until we have seen him."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the editor.</p> + +<p>The maid left them standing at the top of the stairs while she went to +ask if Mr. Aram was in, and whether he would see two gentlemen who did +not give their names because they were strangers to him. The two stood +silent while they waited, eying each other anxiously, and when the girl +reopened the door, nodded pleasantly, and said, "Yes, Mr. Aram is in," +they hurried past her as though <a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>they feared that he would disappear in +midair, or float away through the windows before they could reach him.</p> + +<p>And yet, when they stood at last face-to-face him, he bore a most +disappointing air of every-day respectability. He was a tall, thin young +man, with light hair and mustache and large blue eyes. His back was +towards the window, so that his face was in the shadow, and he did not +rise as they entered. The room in which he sat was a prettily furnished +one, opening into another tiny room, which, from the number of books in +it, might have been called a library. The rooms had a well-to-do, even +prosperous, air, but they did not show any evidences of a pronounced +taste on the part of their owner, either in the way in which they were +furnished or in the decorations of the walls. A little girl of about +seven or eight years of age, who was standing between her father's +knees, with a hand on each, and with her head thrown back on his +shoulder, looked up at the two visitors with evident interest, and +smiled brightly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Aram?" asked the editor, tentatively.</p> + +<p>The young man nodded, and the two visitors seated themselves.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a>"I wish to talk to you on a matter of private business," the editor +began. "Wouldn't it be better to send the little girl away?"</p> + +<p>The child shook her head violently at this, and crowded up closely to +her father; but he held her away from him gently, and told her to "run +and play with Annie."</p> + +<p>She passed the two visitors, with her head held scornfully in air, and +left the men together. Mr. Aram seemed to have a most passive and +incurious disposition. He could have no idea as to who his anonymous +visitors might be, nor did he show any desire to know.</p> + +<p>"I am the editor of ——," the editor began. "My friend also writes for +that periodical. I have received several poems from you lately, Mr. +Aram, and one in particular which we all liked very much. It was called +'Bohemia.' But it is so like one that has appeared under the same title +in the '—— Magazine' that I thought I would see you about it, and ask +you if you could explain the similarity. You see," he went on, "it would +be less embarrassing if you would do so now than later, when the poem +has been published and when people might possibly accuse you of +<a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a>plagiarism." The editor smiled encouragingly and waited.</p> + +<p>Mr. Aram crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands in his lap. +He exhibited no interest, and looked drowsily at the editor. When he +spoke it was in a tone of unstudied indifference. "I never wrote a poem +called 'Bohemia,'" he said, slowly; "at least, if I did I don't remember +it."</p> + +<p>The editor had not expected a flat denial, and it irritated him, for he +recognized it to be the safest course the man could pursue, if he kept +to it. "But you don't mean to say," he protested, smiling, "that you can +write so excellent a poem as 'Bohemia' and then forget having done so?"</p> + +<p>"I might," said Mr. Aram, unresentfully, and with little interest. "I +scribble a good deal."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," suggested the reporter, politely, with the air of one who is +trying to cover up a difficulty to the satisfaction of all, "Mr. Aram +would remember it if he saw it."</p> + +<p>The editor nodded his head in assent, and took the first page of the two +on which the poem was written, and held it out to Mr. Aram, who accepted +the piece of foolscap and eyed it listlessly.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>"Yes, I wrote that," he said. "I copied it out of a book called <i>Gems +from American Poets</i>." There was a lazy pause. "But I never sent it to +any paper." The editor and the reporter eyed each other with outward +calm but with some inward astonishment. They could not see why he had +not adhered to his original denial of the thing <i>in toto</i>. It seemed to +them so foolish, to admit having copied the poem and then to deny having +forwarded it.</p> + +<p>"You see," explained Mr. Aram, still with no apparent interest in the +matter, "I am very fond of poetry; I like to recite it, and I often +write it out in order to make me remember it. I find it impresses the +words on my mind. Well, that's what has happened. I have copied this +poem out at the office probably, and one of the clerks there has found +it, and has supposed that I wrote it, and he has sent it to your paper +as a sort of a joke on me. You see, father being so well-known, it would +rather amuse the boys if I came out as a poet. That's how it was, I +guess. Somebody must have found it and sent it to you, because <i>I</i> never +sent it."</p> + +<p>There was a moment of thoughtful consid<a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a>eration. "I see," said the +editor. "I used to do that same thing myself when I had to recite pieces +at school. I found that writing the verses down helped me to remember +them. I remember that I once copied out many of Shakespeare's sonnets. +But, Mr. Aram, it never occurred to me, after having copied out one of +Shakespeare's sonnets, to sign my own name at the bottom of it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Aram's eyes dropped to the page of manuscript in his hand and rested +there for some little time. Then he said, without raising his head, "I +haven't signed this."</p> + +<p>"No," replied the editor; "but you signed the second page, which I still +have in my hand."</p> + +<p>The editor and his companion expected some expression of indignation +from Mr. Aram at this, some question of their right to come into his +house and cross-examine him and to accuse him, tentatively at least, of +literary fraud, but they were disappointed. Mr. Aram's manner was still +one of absolute impassibility. Whether this manner was habitual to him +they could not know, but it made them doubt their own judgment in having +so quickly accused him, as it bore the look of undismayed innocence.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a>It was the reporter who was the first to break the silence. "Perhaps +some one has signed Mr. Aram's name—the clerk who sent it, for +instance."</p> + +<p>Young Mr. Aram looked up at him curiously, and held out his hand for the +second page. "Yes," he drawled, "that's how it happened. That's not my +signature. I never signed that."</p> + +<p>The editor was growing restless. "I have several other poems here from +you," he said; "one written from the rooms of the Shakespeare Debating +Club, of which I see you are president. Your clerk could not have access +there, could he? He did not write that, too?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mr. Aram, doubtfully, "he could not have written that."</p> + +<p>The editor handed him the poem. "It's yours, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's mine," Mr. Aram replied.</p> + +<p>"And the signature?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and the signature. I wrote that myself," Mr. Aram explained, "and +sent it myself. That other one ('Bohemia') I just copied out to +remember, but this is original with me."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a>"And the envelope in which it was enclosed," asked the editor, "did you +address that also?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Aram examined it uninterestedly. "Yes, that's my handwriting too." +He raised his head. His face wore an expression of patient politeness.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed the editor, suddenly, in some embarrassment. "I handed +you the wrong envelope. I beg your pardon. That envelope is the one in +which 'Bohemia' came."</p> + +<p>The reporter gave a hardly perceptible start; his eyes were fixed on the +pattern of the rug at his feet, and the editor continued to examine the +papers in his hand. There was a moment's silence. From outside came the +noise of children playing in the street and the rapid rush of a passing +wagon.</p> + +<p>When the two visitors raised their heads Mr. Aram was looking at them +strangely, and the fingers folded in his lap were twisting in and out.</p> + +<p>"This Shakespeare Debating Club," said the editor, "where are its rooms, +Mr. Aram?"</p> + +<p>"It has no rooms, now," answered the poet.<a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a> "It has disbanded. It never +had any regular rooms; we just met about and read."</p> + +<p>"I see—exactly," said the editor. "And the house on Seventh Avenue from +which your third poem was sent—did you reside there then, or have you +always lived here?"</p> + +<p>"No, yes—I used to live there—I lived there when I wrote that poem."</p> + +<p>The editor looked at the reporter and back at Mr. Aram. "It is a vacant +lot, Mr. Aram," he said, gravely.</p> + +<p>There was a long pause. The poet rocked slowly up and down in his +rocking-chair, and looked at his hands, which he rubbed over one another +as though they were cold. Then he raised his head and cleared his +throat.</p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen," he said, "you have made out your case."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the editor, regretfully, "we have made out our case." He +could not help but wish that the fellow had stuck to his original +denial. It was too easy a victory.</p> + +<p>"I don't say, mind you," went on Mr. Aram, "that I ever took anybody's +verses and sent them to a paper as my own, but I ask you, as one +gentleman talking to another, <a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a>and inquiring for information, what is +there wrong in doing it? I say, <i>if</i> I had done it, which I don't admit +I ever did, where's the harm?"</p> + +<p>"Where's the harm?" cried the two visitors in chorus.</p> + +<p>"Obtaining money under false pretences," said the editor, "is the harm +you do the publishers, and robbing another man of the work of his brain +and what credit belongs to him is the harm you do him, and telling a lie +is the least harm done. Such a contemptible foolish lie, too, that you +might have known would surely find you out in spite of the trouble you +took to—"</p> + +<p>"I never asked you for any money," interrupted Mr. Aram, quietly.</p> + +<p>"But we would have sent it to you, nevertheless," retorted the editor, +"if we had not discovered in time that the poems were stolen."</p> + +<p>"Where would you have sent it?" asked Mr. Aram. "I never gave you a +right address, did I? I ask you, did I?"</p> + +<p>The editor paused in some confusion, "Well, if you did not want the +money, what did you want?" he exclaimed. "I must say I should like to +know."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a>Mr. Aram rocked himself to and fro, and gazed at his two inquisitors +with troubled eyes. "I didn't see any harm in it then," he repeated. "I +don't see any harm in it now. I didn't ask you for any money. I sort of +thought," he said, confusedly, "that I should like to see my name in +print. I wanted my friends to see it. I'd have liked to have shown it +to—to—well, I'd like my wife to have seen it. She's interested in +literature and books and magazines and things like that. That was all I +wanted. That's why I did it."</p> + +<p>The reporter looked up askance at the editor, as a prompter watches the +actor to see if he is ready to take his cue.</p> + +<p>"How do I know that?" demanded the editor, sharply. He found it somewhat +difficult to be severe with this poet, for the man admitted so much so +readily, and would not defend himself. Had he only blustered and grown +angry and ordered them out, instead of sitting helplessly there rocking +to and fro and picking at the back of his hands, it would have made it +so much easier. "How do we know," repeated the editor, "that you did not +intend to wait until the poems had appeared, <a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>and then send us your real +address and ask for the money, saying that you had moved since you had +last written us?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," protested Mr. Aram, "you know I never thought of that."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything of the sort," said the editor. "I only know that +you have forged and lied and tried to obtain money that doesn't belong +to you, and that I mean to make an example of you and frighten other men +from doing the same thing. No editor has read every poem that was ever +written, and there is no protection for him from such fellows as you, +and the only thing he can do when he does catch one of you is to make an +example of him. That's what I am going to do. I am going to make an +example of you. I am going to nail you up as people nail up dead crows +to frighten off the live ones. It is my intention to give this to the +papers to-night, and you know what they will do with it in the morning."</p> + +<p>There was a long and most uncomfortable pause, and it is doubtful if the +editor did not feel it as much as did the man opposite him. The editor +turned to his friend for a glance of sympathy, or of disapproval even, +but <a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a>that gentleman still sat bending forward with his eyes fixed on the +floor, while he tapped with the top of his cane against his teeth.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean," said Mr. Aram, in a strangely different voice from +which he had last spoken, "that you would do that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," blustered the editor. But even as he spoke he was conscious +of a sincere regret that he had not come alone. He could intuitively +feel Bronson mapping out the story in his mind and memorizing Aram's +every word, and taking mental notes of the framed certificates of high +membership in different military and masonic associations which hung +upon the walls. It had not been long since the editor was himself a +reporter, and he could see that it was as good a story as Bronson could +wish it to be. But he reiterated, "Yes, I mean to give it to the papers +to-night."</p> + +<p>"But think," said Aram—"think, sir, who I am. You don't want to ruin me +for the rest of my life just for a matter of fifteen dollars, do you? +Fifteen dollars that no one has lost, either. If I'd embezzled a million +or so, or if I had robbed the city, well and <a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>good! I'd have taken big +risks for big money; but you are going to punish me just as hard, +because I tried to please my wife, as though I had robbed a mint. No one +has really been hurt," he pleaded; "the men who wrote the poems—they've +been paid for them; they've got all the credit for them they <i>can</i> get. +You've not lost a cent. I've gained nothing by it; and yet you gentlemen +are going to give this thing to the papers, and, as you say, sir, we +know what they will make of it. What with my being my father's son, and +all that, my father is going to suffer. My family is going to suffer. It +will ruin me—"</p> + +<p>The editor put the papers back into his pocket. If Bronson had not been +there he might possibly instead have handed them over to Mr. Aram, and +this story would never have been written. But he could not do that now. +Mr. Aram's affairs had become the property of the New York newspaper.</p> + +<p>He turned to his friend doubtfully. "What do you think, Bronson?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>At this sign of possible leniency Aram ceased in his rocking and sat +erect, with eyes wide open and fixed on Bronson's face. But <a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>the latter +trailed his stick over the rug beneath his feet and shrugged his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Aram," he said, "might have thought of his family and his father +before he went into this business. It is rather late now. But," he +added, "I don't think it is a matter we can decide in any event. It +should be left to the firm."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the editor, hurriedly, glad of the excuse to temporize, "we +must leave it to the house." But he read Bronson's answer to mean that +he did not intend to let the plagiarist escape, and he knew that even +were Bronson willing to do so, there was still his City Editor to be +persuaded.</p> + +<p>The two men rose and stood uncomfortably, shifting their hats in their +hands—and avoiding each other's eyes. Mr. Aram stood up also, and +seeing that his last chance had come, began again to plead desperately.</p> + +<p>"What good would fifteen dollars do me?" he said, with a gesture of his +hands round the room. "I don't have to look for money as hard as that I +tell you," he reiterated, "it wasn't the money I wanted. I didn't mean +any harm. I didn't know it was wrong. I just wanted to please my +wife—<a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a>that was all. My God, man, can't you see that you are punishing +me out of all proportion?"</p> + +<p>The visitors walked towards the door, and he followed them, talking the +faster as they drew near to it. The scene had become an exceedingly +painful one, and they were anxious to bring it to a close.</p> + +<p>The editor interrupted him. "We will let you know," he said, "what we +have decided to do by to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"You mean," retorted the man, hopelessly and reproachfully, "that I will +read it in the Sunday papers."</p> + +<p>Before the editor could answer they heard the door leading into the +apartment open and close, and some one stepping quickly across the hall +to the room in which they stood. The entrance to the room was hung with +a portière, and as the three men paused in silence this portière was +pushed back, and a young lady stood in the doorway, holding the curtains +apart with her two hands. She was smiling, and the smile lighted a face +that was inexpressibly bright and honest and true. Aram's face had been +lowered, but the eyes of the other two men were staring wide open +<a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a>towards the unexpected figure, which seemed to bring a taste of fresh +pure air into the feverish atmosphere of the place. The girl stopped +uncertainly when she saw the two strangers, and bowed her head slightly +as the mistress of a house might welcome any one whom she found in her +drawing-room. She was entirely above and apart from her surroundings. It +was not only that she was exceedingly pretty, but that everything about +her, from her attitude to her cloth walking-dress, was significant of +good taste and high breeding.</p> + +<p>She paused uncertainly, still smiling, and with her gloved hands holding +back the curtains and looking at Aram with eyes filled with a kind +confidence. She was apparently waiting for him to present his friends.</p> + +<p>The editor made a sudden but irrevocable resolve. "If she is only a +chance visitor," he said to himself, "I will still expose him; but if +that woman in the doorway is his wife, I will push Bronson under the +elevated train, and the secret will die with me."</p> + +<p>What Bronson's thoughts were he could not know, but he was conscious +that his friend had straightened his broad shoulders and was holding his +head erect.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>Aram raised his face, but he did not look at the woman in the door. "In +a minute, dear," he said; "I am busy with these gentlemen."</p> + +<p>The girl gave a little "oh" of apology, smiled at her husband's bent +head, inclined her own again slightly to the other men, and let the +portière close behind her. It had been as dramatic an entrance and exit +as the two visitors had ever seen upon the stage. It was as if Aram had +given a signal, and the only person who could help him had come in the +nick of time to plead for him. Aram, stupid as he appeared to be, had +evidently felt the effect his wife's appearance had made upon his +judges. He still kept his eyes fixed upon the floor, but he said, and +this time with more confidence in his tone:—</p> + +<p>"It is not, gentlemen, as though I were an old man. I have so very long +to live—so long to try to live this down. Why, I am as young as you +are. How would you like to have a thing like this to carry with you till +you died?"</p> + +<p>The editor still stood staring blankly at the curtains through which Mr. +Aram's good angel, for whom he had lied and cheated in <a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a>order to gain +credit in her eyes, had disappeared. He pushed them aside with his +stick. "We will let you know to-morrow morning," he repeated, and the +two men passed out from the poet's presence, and on into the hall. They +descended the stairs in an uncomfortable silence, Bronson leading the +way, and the editor endeavoring to read his verdict by the back of his +head and shoulders.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the steps he pulled his friend by the sleeve. "Bronson," +he coaxed, "you are not going to use it, are you?"</p> + +<p>Bronson turned on him savagely. "For Heaven's sake!" he protested, "what +do you think I am; did you <i>see</i> her?"</p> + +<p>So the New York —— lost a very good story, and Bronson a large sum of +money for not writing it, and Mr. Aram was taught a lesson, and his +young wife's confidence in him remained unshaken. The editor and +reporter dined together that night, and over their cigars decided with +sudden terror that Mr. Aram might, in his ignorance of their good +intentions concerning him, blow out his brains, and for nothing. So they +despatched a messenger-boy up town in post-haste with a note saying that +"the firm" had decided to let the matter <a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a>drop. Although, perhaps, it +would have been better to have given him one sleepless night at least.</p> + +<p>That was three years ago, and since then Mr. Aram's father has fallen +out with Tammany, and has been retired from public service. Bronson has +been sent abroad to represent the United States at a foreign court, and +has asked the editor to write the story that he did not write, but with +such changes in the names of people and places that no one save Mr. Aram +may know who Mr. Aram really was and is.</p> + +<p>This the editor has done, reporting what happened as faithfully as he +could, and in the hope that it will make an interesting story in spite +of the fact, and not on account of the fact, that it is a true one.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a></p> +<h3><a name="AN_ASSISTED_EMIGRANT" id="AN_ASSISTED_EMIGRANT"></a>AN ASSISTED EMIGRANT</h3> + + +<p>Guido stood on the curb-stone in Fourteenth Street, between Fifth Avenue +and Sixth Avenue, with a row of plaster figures drawn up on the sidewalk +in front of him. It was snowing, and they looked cold in consequence, +especially the Night and Morning. A line of men and boys stretched on +either side of Guido all along the curb-stone, with toys and dolls, and +guns that shot corks into the air with a loud report, and glittering +dressings for the Christmas trees. It was the day before Christmas. The +man who stood next in line to Guido had hideous black monkeys that +danced from the end of a rubber string. The man danced up and down too, +very much, so Guido thought, as the monkeys did, and stamped his feet on +the icy pavement, and shouted: "Here yer are, lady, for five cents. Take +them home to the children." There were hundreds and hundreds of ladies +and little girls crowding by all of the <a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a>time; some of them were a +little cross and a little tired, as if Christmas shopping had told on +their nerves, but the greater number were happy-looking and warm, and +some stopped and laughed at the monkeys dancing on the rubber strings, +and at the man with the frost on his mustache, who jumped too, and +cried, "Only five cents, lady—nice Christmas presents for the +children."</p> + +<p>Sometimes the ladies bought the monkeys, but no one looked at the cold +plaster figures of St. Joseph, and Diana, and Night and Morning, nor at +the heads of Mars and Minerva—not even at the figure of the Virgin, +with her two hands held out, which Guido pressed in his arms against his +breast.</p> + +<p>Guido had been in New York city just one month. He was very young—so +young that he had never done anything at home but sit on the wharves and +watch the ships come in and out of the great harbor of Genoa. He never +had wished to depart with these ships when they sailed away, nor +wondered greatly as to where they went. He was content with the wharves +and with the narrow streets near by, and to look up from the bulkheads +at the sailors working in the rigging, and the 'long-<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>shoremen rolling +the casks on board, or lowering great square boxes into the holds.</p> + +<p>He would have liked, could he have had his way, to live so for the rest +of his life; but they would not let him have his way, and coaxed him on +a ship to go to the New World to meet his uncle. He was not a real +uncle, but only a make-believe one, to satisfy those who objected to +assisted immigrants, and who wished to be assured against having to +support Guido, and others like him. But they were not half so anxious to +keep Guido at home as he himself was to stay there.</p> + +<p>The new uncle met him at Ellis Island, and embraced him affectionately, +and put him in an express wagon, and drove him with a great many more of +his countrymen to where Mulberry Street makes a bend and joins Hester. +And in the Bend Guido found thousands of his fellows sleeping twenty in +a room and over-crowded into the street: some who had but just arrived, +and others who had already learned to swear in English, and had their +street-cleaning badges and their peddler's licenses, to show that they +had not been overlooked by the kindly society of Tammany, which sees +that no free and independent voter shall go unrewarded.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a>New York affected Guido like a bad dream. It was cold and muddy, and +the snow when it fell turned to mud so quickly that Guido believed they +were one and the same. He did not dare to think of the place he know as +home. And the sight of the colored advertisements of the steamship lines +that hung in the windows of the Italian bankers hurt him as the sound of +traffic on the street cuts to the heart of a prisoner in the Tombs. Many +of his countrymen bade good-by to Mulberry Street and sailed away; but +they had grown rich through obeying the padrones, and working night and +morning sweeping the Avenue uptown, and by living on the refuse from the +scows at Canal Street. Guido never hoped to grow rich, and no one +stopped to buy his uncle's wares.</p> + +<p>The electric lights came out, and still the crowd passed and thronged +before him, and the snow fell and left no mark on the white figures. +Guido was growing cold, and the bustle of the hurrying hundreds which +had entertained him earlier in the day had ceased to interest him, and +his amusement had given place to the fear that no one of them would ever +stop, and that he would return to his uncle empty-handed. He was hungry +now, as <a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>well as cold, and though there was not much rich food in the +Bend at any time, to-day he had had nothing of any quality to eat since +early morning. The man with the monkeys turned his head from time to +time, and spoke to him in a language that he could not understand; +although he saw that it was something amusing and well meant that the +man said, and so smiled back and nodded. He felt it to be quite a loss +when the man moved away.</p> + +<p>Guido thought very slowly, but he at last began to feel a certain +contempt for the stiff statues and busts which no one wanted, and +buttoned the figure of the one of the woman with her arms held out, +inside of his jacket, and tucked his scarf in around it, so that it +might not be broken, and also that it might not bear the ignominy with +the others of being overlooked. Guido was a gentle, slow-thinking boy, +and could not have told you why he did this, but he knew that this +figure was of different clay from the others. He had seen it placed high +in the cathedrals at home, and he had been told that if you ask certain +things of it it will listen to you.</p> + +<p>The women and children began to disappear <a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a>from the crowd, and the +necessity of selling some of his wares impressed itself more urgently +upon him as the night grew darker and possible customers fewer. He +decided that he had taken up a bad position, and that instead of waiting +for customers to come to him, he ought to go seek for them. With this +purpose in his mind, he gathered the figures together upon his tray, and +resting it upon his shoulder, moved further along the street, to +Broadway, where the crowd was greater and the shops more brilliantly +lighted. He had good cause to be watchful, for the sidewalks were +slippery with ice, and the people rushed and hurried and brushed past +him without noticing the burden he carried on one shoulder. He wished +now that he knew some words of this new language, that he might call his +wares and challenge the notice of the passers-by, as did the other men +who shouted so continually and vehemently at the hurrying crowds. He did +not know what might happen if he failed to sell one of his statues; it +was a possibility so awful that he did not dare conceive of its +punishment. But he could do nothing, and so stood silent, dumbly +presenting his tray to the people near him.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>His wanderings brought him to the corner of a street, and he started to +cross it, in the hope of better fortune in untried territory. There was +no need of his hurrying to do this, although a car was coming towards +him, so he stepped carefully but surely. But as he reached the middle of +the track a man came towards him from the opposite pavement; they met +and hesitated, and then both jumped to the same side, and the man's +shoulder struck the tray and threw the white figures flying to the +track, where the horses tramped over them on their way. Guido fell +backwards, frightened and shaken, and the car stopped, and the driver +and the conductor leaned out anxiously from each end.</p> + +<p>There seemed to be hundreds of people all around Guido, and some of them +picked him up and asked him questions in a very loud voice, as though +that would make the language they spoke more intelligible. Two men took +him by each arm and talked with him in earnest tones, and punctuated +their questions by shaking him gently. He could not answer them, but +only sobbed, and beat his hands softly together, and looked about him +for a chance to escape. The conductor of the car jerked the <a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>strap +violently, and the car went on its way. Guido watched the conductor, as +he stood with his hands in his pockets looking back at him. Guido had a +confused idea that the people on the car might pay him for the plaster +figures which had been scattered in the slush and snow, so that the +heads and arms and legs lay on every side or were ground into heaps of +white powder. But when the car disappeared into the night he gave up +this hope, and pulling himself free from his captor, slipped through the +crowd and ran off into a side street. A man who had seen the accident +had been trying to take up a collection in the crowd, which had grown +less sympathetic and less numerous in consequence, and had gathered more +than the plaster casts were worth; but Guido did not know this, and when +they came to look for him he was gone, and the bareheaded gentleman, +with his hat full of coppers and dimes, was left in much embarrassment.</p> + +<p>Guido walked to Washington Square, and sat down on a bench to rest, and +then curled over quickly, and stretching himself out at full length, +wept bitterly. When any one passed he held his breath and pretended to +<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>be asleep. He did not know what he was to do or where he was to go. +Such a calamity as this had never entered into his calculations of the +evils which might overtake him, and it overwhelmed him utterly. A +policeman touched him with his nightstick, and spoke to him kindly +enough, but the boy only backed away from the man until he was out of +his reach, and then ran on again, slipping and stumbling on the ice and +snow. He ran to Christopher Street, through Greenwich Village, and on to +the wharves.</p> + +<p>It was quite late, and he had recovered from his hunger, and only felt a +sick tired ache at his heart. His feet were heavy and numb, and he was +very sleepy. People passed him continually, and doors opened into +churches and into noisy glaring saloons and crowded shops, but it did +not seem possible to him that there could be any relief from any source +for the sorrow that had befallen him. It seemed too awful, and as +impossible to mend as it would be to bring the crushed plaster into +shape again. He considered dully that his uncle would miss him and wait +for him, and that his anger would increase with every moment of his +<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a>delay. He felt that he could never return to his uncle again.</p> + +<p>Then he came to another park, opening into a square, with lighted +saloons on one side, and on the other great sheds, with ships lying +beside them, and the electric lights showing their spars and masts +against the sky. It had ceased snowing, but the air from the river was +piercing and cold, and swept through the wires overhead with a ceaseless +moaning. The numbness had crept from his feet up over the whole extent +of his little body, and he dropped upon a flight of steps back of a +sailors' boarding-house, and shoved his hands inside of his jacket for +possible warmth. His fingers touched the figure he had hidden there and +closed upon it lightly, and then his head dropped back against the wall, +and he fell into a heavy sleep. The night passed on and grew colder, and +the wind came across the ice-blocked river with shriller, sharper +blasts, but Guido did not hear it.</p> + +<p>"Chuckey" Martin, who blacked boots in front of the corner saloon in +summer and swept out the bar-room in winter, came out through the family +entrance and dumped a pan of hot ashes into the snow-bank, and <a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a>then +turned into the house with a shiver. He saw a mass of something lying +curled up on the steps of the next house, and remembered it after he had +closed the door of the family entrance behind him and shoved the pan +under the stove. He decided at last that it might be one of the saloon's +customers, or a stray sailor with loose change in his pockets, which he +would not miss when he awoke. So he went out again, and picking Guido +up, brought him in in his arms and laid him out on the floor.</p> + +<p>There were over thirty men in the place; they had been celebrating the +coming of Christmas; and three of them pushed each other out of the way +in their eagerness to pour very bad brandy between Guido's teeth. +"Chuckey" Martin felt a sense of proprietorship in Guido, by the right +of discovery, and resented this, pushing them away, and protesting that +the thing to do was to rub his feet with snow.</p> + +<p>A fat oily chief engineer of an Italian tramp steamer dropped on his +knees beside Guido and beat the boy's hands, and with unsteady fingers +tore open his scarf and jacket, and as he did this the figure of the +plaster Virgin <a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a>with her hands stretched out looked up at him from its +bed on Guido's chest.</p> + +<p>Some of the sailors drew their hands quickly across their breasts, and +others swore in some alarm, and the bar-keeper drank the glass of +whiskey he had brought for Guido at a gulp, and then readjusted his +apron to show that nothing had disturbed his equanimity. Guido sat up, +with his head against the chief engineer's knees, and opened his eyes, +and his ears were greeted with words in his own tongue. They gave him +hot coffee and hot soup and more brandy, and he told his story in a +burst of words that flowed like a torrent of tears—how he had been +stolen from his home at Genoa, where he used to watch the boats from the +stone pier in front of the custom-house, at which the sailors nodded, +and how the padrone, who was not his uncle, finding he could not black +boots nor sell papers, had given him these plaster casts to sell, and +how he had whipped him when people would not buy them, and how at last +he had tripped, and broken them all except this one hidden in his +breast, and how he had gone to sleep, and he asked now why had they +wakened him, for he had no place to go.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a>Guido remembered telling them this, and following them by their +gestures as they retold it to the others in a strange language, and then +the lights began to spin, and the faces grew distant, and he reached out +his hand for the fat chief engineer, and felt his arms tightening around +him.</p> + +<p>A cold wind woke Guido, and the sound of something throbbing and beating +like a great clock. He was very warm and tired and lazy, and when he +raised his head he touched the ceiling close above him, and when he +opened his eyes he found himself in a little room with a square table +covered with oil-cloth in the centre, and rows of beds like shelves +around the walls. The room rose and fell as the streets did when he had +had nothing to eat, and he scrambled out of the warm blankets and +crawled fearfully up a flight of narrow stairs. There was water on +either side of him, beyond and behind him—water blue and white and +dancing in the sun, with great blocks of dirty ice tossing on its +surface.</p> + +<p>And behind him lay the odious city of New York, with its great bridge +and high buildings, and before him the open sea. The <a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a>chief engineer +crawled up from the engine-room and came towards him, rubbing the +perspiration from his face with a dirty towel.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning," he called out. "You are feeling pretty well?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"It is Christmas day. Do you know where you are going? You are going to +Italy, to Genoa. It is over there," he said, pointing with his finger. +"Go back to your bed and keep warm."</p> + +<p>He picked Guido up in his arms, and ran with him down the companion-way, +and tossed him back into his berth. Then he pointed to the shelf at one +end of the little room, above the sheet-iron stove. The plaster figure +that Guido had wrapped in his breast had been put there and lashed to +its place.</p> + +<p>"That will bring us good luck and a quick voyage," said the chief +engineer.</p> + +<p>Guido lay quite still until the fat engineer had climbed up the +companion-way again and permitted the sunlight to once more enter the +cabin. Then he crawled out of his berth and dropped on his knees, and +raised up his hands to the plaster figure which no one would buy.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a></p> +<h3><a name="THE_REPORTER_WHO_MADE_HIMSELF_KING" id="THE_REPORTER_WHO_MADE_HIMSELF_KING"></a>THE REPORTER WHO MADE HIMSELF KING</h3> + + +<p>The Old Time Journalist will tell you that the best reporter is the one +who works his way up. He holds that the only way to start is as a +printer's devil or as an office boy, to learn in time to set type, to +graduate from a compositor into a stenographer, and as a stenographer +take down speeches at public meetings, and so finally grow into a real +reporter, with a fire badge on your left suspender, and a speaking +acquaintance with all the greatest men in the city, not even excepting +Police Captains.</p> + +<p>That is the old time journalist's idea of it. That is the way he was +trained, and that is why at the age of sixty he is still a reporter. If +you train up a youth in this way, he will go into reporting with too +full a knowledge of the newspaper business, with no illusions concerning +it, and with no ignorant enthusiasms, but with a keen and justifiable +impression <a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>that he is not paid enough for what he does. And he will +only do what he is paid to do.</p> + +<p>Now, you cannot pay a good reporter for what he does, because he does +not work for pay. He works for his paper. He gives his time, his health, +his brains, his sleeping hours, and his eating hours, and sometimes his +life to get news for it. He thinks the sun rises only that men may have +light by which to read it. But if he has been in a newspaper office from +his youth up, he finds out before he becomes a reporter that this is not +so, and loses his real value. He should come right out of the University +where he has been doing "campus notes" for the college weekly, and be +pitchforked out into city work without knowing whether the Battery is at +Harlem or Hunter's Point, and with the idea that he is a Moulder of +Public Opinion and that the Power of the Press is greater than the Power +of Money, and that the few lines he writes are of more value in the +Editor's eyes than is the column of advertising on the last page, which +they are not. After three years—it is sometimes longer, sometimes not +so long—he finds out that he has given his nerves and his youth and his +enthusiasm in exchange <a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>for a general fund of miscellaneous knowledge, +the opportunity of personal encounter with all the greatest and most +remarkable men and events that have risen in those three years, and a +great fund of resource and patience. He will find that he has crowded +the experiences of the lifetime of the ordinary young business man, +doctor, or lawyer, or man about town, into three short years; that he +has learned to think and to act quickly, to be patient and unmoved when +every one else has lost his head, actually or figuratively speaking; to +write as fast as another man can talk, and to be able to talk with +authority on matters of which other men do not venture even to think +until they have read what he has written with a copy-boy at his elbow on +the night previous.</p> + +<p>It is necessary for you to know this, that you may understand what +manner of man young Albert Gordon was.</p> + +<p>Young Gordon had been a reporter just three years. He had left Yale when +his last living relative died, and had taken the morning train for New +York, where they had promised him reportorial work on one of the +innumerable Greatest New York Dailies. He <a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a>arrived at the office at +noon, and was sent back over the same road on which he had just come, to +Spuyten Duyvil, where a train had been wrecked and everybody of +consequence to suburban New York killed. One of the old reporters +hurried him to the office again with his "copy," and after he had +delivered that, he was sent to the Tombs to talk French to a man in +Murderer's Row, who could not talk anything else, but who had shown some +international skill in the use of a jimmy. And at eight, he covered a +flower-show in Madison Square Garden; and at eleven was sent over the +Brooklyn Bridge in a cab to watch a fire and make guesses at the losses +to the insurance companies.</p> + +<p>He went to bed at one, and dreamed of shattered locomotives, human +beings lying still with blankets over them, rows of cells, and banks of +beautiful flowers nodding their heads to the tunes of the brass band in +the gallery. He decided when he awoke the next morning that he had +entered upon a picturesque and exciting career, and as one day followed +another, he became more and more convinced of it, and more and more +devoted to it. He was twenty then, and he was now twenty-three, <a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a>and in +that time had become a great reporter, and had been to Presidential +conventions in Chicago, revolutions in Hayti, Indian outbreaks on the +Plains, and midnight meetings of moonlighters in Tennessee, and had seen +what work earthquakes, floods, fire, and fever could do in great cities, +and had contradicted the President, and borrowed matches from burglars. +And now he thought he would like to rest and breathe a bit, and not to +work again unless as a war correspondent. The only obstacle to his +becoming a great war correspondent lay in the fact that there was no +war, and a war correspondent without a war is about as absurd an +individual as a general without an army. He read the papers every +morning on the elevated trains for war clouds; but though there were +many war clouds, they always drifted apart, and peace smiled again. This +was very disappointing to young Gordon, and he became more and more +keenly discouraged.</p> + +<p>And then as war work was out of the question, he decided to write his +novel. It was to be a novel of New York life, and he wanted a quiet +place in which to work on it. He was already making inquiries among the +<a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a>suburban residents of his acquaintance for just such a quiet spot, when +he received an offer to go to the Island of Opeki in the North Pacific +Ocean, as secretary to the American consul to that place. The gentleman +who had been appointed by the President to act as consul at Opeki, was +Captain Leonard T. Travis, a veteran of the Civil War, who had +contracted a severe attack of rheumatism while camping out at night in +the dew, and who on account of this souvenir of his efforts to save the +Union had allowed the Union he had saved to support him in one office or +another ever since. He had met young Gordon at a dinner, and had had the +presumption to ask him to serve as his secretary, and Gordon, much to +his surprise, had accepted his offer. The idea of a quiet life in the +tropics with new and beautiful surroundings, and with nothing to do and +plenty of time in which to do it, and to write his novel besides, seemed +to Albert to be just what he wanted; and though he did not know nor care +much for his superior officer, he agreed to go with him promptly, and +proceeded to say good-by to his friends and to make his preparations. +Captain<a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a> Travis was so delighted with getting such a clever young +gentleman for his secretary, that he referred to him to his friends as +"my attaché of legation;" nor did he lessen that gentleman's dignity by +telling any one that the attaché's salary was to be five hundred dollars +a year. His own salary was only fifteen hundred dollars; and though his +brother-in-law, Senator Rainsford, tried his best to get the amount +raised, he was unsuccessful. The consulship to Opeki was instituted +early in the '50's, to get rid of and reward a third or fourth cousin of +the President's, whose services during the campaign were important, but +whose after-presence was embarrassing. He had been created consul to +Opeki as being more distant and unaccessible than any other known spot, +and had lived and died there; and so little was known of the island, and +so difficult was communication with it, that no one knew he was dead, +until Captain Travis, in his hungry haste for office, had uprooted the +sad fact. Captain Travis, as well as Albert, had a secondary reason for +wishing to visit Opeki. His physician had told him to go to some warm +climate for his rheumatism, <a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a>and in accepting the consulship his object +was rather to follow out his doctor's orders at his country's expense, +than to serve his country at the expense of his rheumatism.</p> + +<p>Albert could learn but very little of Opeki; nothing, indeed, but that +it was situated about one hundred miles from the Island of Octavia, +which island, in turn, was simply described as a coaling-station three +hundred miles distant from the coast of California. Steamers from San +Francisco to Yokohama stopped every third week at Octavia, and that was +all that either Captain Travis or his secretary could learn of their new +home. This was so very little, that Albert stipulated to stay only as +long as he liked it, and to return to the States within a few months if +he found such a change of plan desirable.</p> + +<p>As he was going to what was an almost undiscovered country, he thought +it would be advisable to furnish himself with a supply of articles with +which he might trade with the native Opekians, and for this purpose he +purchased a large quantity of brass rods, because he had read that +Stanley did so, and added to these, brass curtain chains and about two +hundred leaden medals similar to <a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a>those sold by street pedlers during +the Constitutional Centennial celebration in New York City.</p> + +<p>He also collected even more beautiful but less expensive decorations for +Christmas trees, at a wholesale house on Park Row. These he hoped to +exchange for furs or feathers or weapons, or for whatever other curious +and valuable trophies the Island of Opeki boasted. He already pictured +his rooms on his return hung fantastically with crossed spears and +boomerangs, feather head-dresses, and ugly idols.</p> + +<p>His friends told him that he was doing a very foolish thing, and argued +that once out of the newspaper world, it would be hard to regain his +place in it. But he thought the novel that he would write while lost to +the world at Opeki would serve to make up for his temporary absence from +it, and he expressly and impressively stipulated that the editor should +wire him if there was a war.</p> + +<p>Captain Travis and his secretary crossed the continent without +adventure, and took passage from San Francisco on the first steamer that +touched at Octavia. They reached that island in three days, and <a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a>learned +with some concern that there was no regular communication with Opeki, +and that it would be necessary to charter a sailboat for the trip. Two +fishermen agreed to take them and their trunks, and to get them to their +destination within sixteen hours if the wind held good. It was a most +unpleasant sail. The rain fell with calm, relentless persistence from +what was apparently a clear sky; the wind tossed the waves as high as +the mast and made Captain Travis ill; and as there was no deck to the +big boat, they were forced to huddle up under pieces of canvas, and +talked but little. Captain Travis complained of frequent twinges of +rheumatism, and gazed forlornly over the gunwale at the empty waste of +water.</p> + +<p>"If I've got to serve a term of imprisonment on a rock in the middle of +the ocean for four years," he said, "I might just as well have done +something first to deserve it. This is a pretty way to treat a man who +bled for his country. This is gratitude, this is." Albert pulled heavily +on his pipe, and wiped the rain and spray from his face and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it won't be so bad when we get <a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a>there," he said; "they say these +Southern people are always hospitable, and the whites will be glad to +see any one from the States."</p> + +<p>"There will be a round of diplomatic dinners," said the consul, with an +attempt at cheerfulness. "I have brought two uniforms to wear at them."</p> + +<p>It was seven o'clock in the evening when the rain ceased, and one of the +black, half-naked fishermen nodded and pointed at a little low line on +the horizon.</p> + +<p>"Opeki," he said. The line grew in length until it proved to be an +island with great mountains rising to the clouds, and as they drew +nearer and nearer, showed a level coast running back to the foot of the +mountains and covered with a forest of palms. They next made out a +village of thatched huts around a grassy square, and at some distance +from the village a wooden structure with a tin roof.</p> + +<p>"I wonder where the town is," asked the consul, with a nervous glance at +the fishermen. One of them told him that what he saw was the town.</p> + +<p>"That?" gasped the consul. "Is that where all the people on the island +live?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a>The fisherman nodded; but the other added that there were other natives +further back in the mountains, but that they were bad men who fought and +ate each other. The consul and his attaché of legation gazed at the +mountains with unspoken misgivings. They were quite near now, and could +see an immense crowd of men and women, all of them black, and clad but +in the simplest garments, waiting to receive them. They seemed greatly +excited and ran in and out of the huts, and up and down the beach, as +wildly as so many black ants. But in the front of the group they +distinguished three men who they could see were white, though they were +clothed, like the others, simply in a shirt and a short pair of +trousers. Two of these three suddenly sprang away on a run and +disappeared among the palm-trees; but the third one, when he recognized +the American flag in the halyards, threw his straw hat in the water and +began turning handsprings over the sand.</p> + +<p>"That young gentleman, at least," said Albert, gravely, "seems pleased +to see us."</p> + +<p>A dozen of the natives sprang into the water and came wading and +swimming <a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a>towards them, grinning and shouting and swinging their arms.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it's quite safe, do you?" said the consul, looking out +wildly to the open sea. "You see, they don't know who I am."</p> + +<p>A great black giant threw one arm over the gunwale and shouted something +that sounded as if it were spelt Owah, Owah, as the boat carried him +through the surf.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said Gordon, doubtfully. The boat shook the giant off +under the wave and beached itself so suddenly that the American consul +was thrown forward to his knees. Gordon did not wait to pick him up, but +jumped out and shook hands with the young man who had turned +handsprings, while the natives gathered about them in a circle and +chatted and laughed in delighted excitement.</p> + +<p>"I'm awful glad to see you," said the young man, eagerly. "My name's +Stedman. I'm from New Haven, Connecticut. Where are you from?"</p> + +<p>"New York," said Albert. "This," he added, pointing solemnly to Captain +Travis, who was still on his knees in the boat, "is <a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a>the American consul +to Opeki." The American consul to Opeki gave a wild look at Mr. Stedman +of New Haven and at the natives.</p> + +<p>"See here, young man," he gasped, "is this all there is of Opeki?"</p> + +<p>"The American consul?" said young Stedman, with a gasp of amazement, and +looking from Albert to Captain Travis. "Why, I never supposed they would +send another here; the last one died about fifteen years ago, and there +hasn't been one since. I've been living in the consul's office with the +Bradleys, but I'll move out, of course. I'm sure I'm awfully glad to see +you. It'll make it so much more pleasant for me."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Captain Travis, bitterly, as he lifted his rheumatic leg +over the boat; "that's why we came."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stedman did not notice this. He was too much pleased to be anything +but hospitable. "You are soaking wet, aren't you?" he said; "and hungry, +I guess. You come right over to the consul's office and get on some +other things."</p> + +<p>He turned to the natives and gave some rapid orders in their language, +and some of them jumped into the boat at this, and began <a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a>to lift out +the trunks, and others ran off towards a large, stout old native, who +was sitting gravely on a log, smoking, with the rain beating unnoticed +on his gray hair.</p> + +<p>"They've gone to tell the King," said Stedman; "but you'd better get +something to eat first, and then I'll be happy to present you properly."</p> + +<p>"The King," said Captain Travis, with some awe; "is there a king?"</p> + +<p>"I never saw a king," Gordon remarked, "and I'm sure I never expected to +see one sitting on a log in the rain."</p> + +<p>"He's a very good king," said Stedman, confidentially; "and though you +mightn't think it to look at him, he's a terrible stickler for etiquette +and form. After supper he'll give you an audience; and if you have any +tobacco, you had better give him some as a present, and you'd better say +it's from the President: he doesn't like to take presents from common +people, he's so proud. The only reason he borrows mine is because he +thinks I'm the President's son."</p> + +<p>"What makes him think that?" demanded the consul, with some shortness. +Young Mr. Stedman looked nervously at the consul <a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a>and at Albert, and +said that he guessed some one must have told him.</p> + +<p>The consul's office was divided into four rooms with an open court in +the middle, filled with palms, and watered somewhat unnecessarily by a +fountain.</p> + +<p>"I made that," said Stedman, in a modest off-hand way. "I made it out of +hollow bamboo reeds connected with a spring. And now I'm making one for +the King. He saw this and had a lot of bamboo sticks put up all over the +town, without any underground connections, and couldn't make out why the +water wouldn't spurt out of them. And because mine spurts, he thinks I'm +a magician."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," grumbled the consul, "some one told him that too."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Mr. Stedman, uneasily.</p> + +<p>There was a veranda around the consul's office, and inside the walls +were hung with skins, and pictures from illustrated papers, and there +was a good deal of bamboo furniture, and four broad, cool-looking beds. +The place was as clean as a kitchen. "I made the furniture," said +Stedman, "and the Bradleys keep the place in order."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a>"Who are the Bradleys?" asked Albert.</p> + +<p>"The Bradleys are those two men you saw with me," said Stedman; "they +deserted from a British man-of-war that stopped here for coal, and they +act as my servants. One is Bradley, Sr., and the other, Bradley, Jr."</p> + +<p>"Then vessels do stop here occasionally?" the consul said, with a +pleased smile.</p> + +<p>"Well, not often," said Stedman. "Not so very often; about once a year. +The <i>Nelson</i> thought this was Octavia, and put off again as soon as she +found out her mistake, but the Bradleys took to the bush, and the boat's +crew couldn't find them. When they saw your flag, they thought you might +mean to send them back, so they ran off to hide again: they'll be back, +though, when they get hungry."</p> + +<p>The supper young Stedman spread for his guests, as he still treated +them, was very refreshing and very good. There was cold fish and pigeon +pie, and a hot omelet filled with mushrooms and olives and tomatoes and +onions all sliced up together, and strong black coffee. After supper, +Stedman went off to see the King, and came back in a little while to say +that his Majesty would give <a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a>them an audience the next day after +breakfast. "It is too dark now," Stedman explained; "and it's raining so +that they can't make the street lamps burn. Did you happen to notice our +lamps? I invented them; but they don't work very well yet. I've got the +right idea, though, and I'll soon have the town illuminated all over, +whether it rains or not."</p> + +<p>The consul had been very silent and indifferent, during supper, to all +around him. Now he looked up with some show of interest.</p> + +<p>"How much longer is it going to rain, do you think?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Stedman, critically. "Not more than two months, +I should say." The consul rubbed his rheumatic leg and sighed, but said +nothing.</p> + +<p>The Bradleys returned about ten o'clock, and came in very sheepishly. +The consul had gone off to pay the boatmen who had brought them, and +Albert in his absence assured the sailor's that there was not the least +danger of their being sent away. Then he turned into one of the beds, +and Stedman took one in another room, leaving the room <a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a>he had occupied +heretofore for the consul. As he was saying good-night, Albert suggested +that he had not yet told them how he came to be on a deserted island; +but Stedman only laughed and said that that was a long story, and that +he would tell him all about it in the morning. So Albert went off to bed +without waiting for the consul to return, and fell asleep, wondering at +the strangeness of his new life, and assuring himself that if the rain +only kept up, he would have his novel finished in a month.</p> + +<p>The sun was shining brightly when he awoke, and the palm-trees outside +were nodding gracefully in a warm breeze. From the court came the odor +of strange flowers, and from the window he could see the ocean +brilliantly blue, and with the sun coloring the spray that beat against +the coral reefs on the shore.</p> + +<p>"Well, the consul can't complain of this," he said, with a laugh of +satisfaction; and pulling on a bath-robe, he stepped into the next room +to awaken Captain Travis. But the room was quite empty, and the bed +undisturbed. The consul's trunk remained just where it had been placed +near the door, <a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a>and on it lay a large sheet of foolscap, with writing on +it, and addressed at the top to Albert Gordon. The handwriting was the +consul's. Albert picked it up and read it with much anxiety. It began +abruptly:—</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"The fishermen who brought us to this forsaken spot tell me that it +rains here six months in the year, and that this is the first month. I +came here to serve my country, for which I fought and bled, but I did +not come here to die of rheumatism and pneumonia. I can serve my country +better by staying alive; and whether it rains or not, I don't like it. I +have been grossly deceived, and I am going back. Indeed, by the time you +get this, I will be on my return trip, as I intend leaving with the men +who brought us here as soon as they can get the sail up. My cousin, +Senator Rainsford, can fix it all right with the President, and can have +me recalled in proper form after I get back. But of course it would not +do for me to leave my post with no one to take my place, and no one +could be more ably fitted to do so than yourself; so I feel no +compunctions at leaving you behind. I hereby, therefore, <a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a>accordingly +appoint you my substitute with full power to act, to collect all fees, +sign all papers, and attend to all matters pertaining to your office as +American consul, and I trust you will worthily uphold the name of that +country and government which it has always been my pleasure and duty to +serve.</p> + +<p class='author'>"Your sincere friend and superior officer,</p> + +<p class='author'> +"<span class="smcap">Leonard T. Travis.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"P.S. I did not care to disturb you by moving my trunk, so I left it, +and you can make what use you please of whatever it contains, as I shall +not want tropical garments where I am going. What you will need most, I +think, is a waterproof and umbrella.</p> + +<p>"P.S. Look out for that young man Stedman. He is too inventive. I hope +you will like your high office; but as for myself, I am satisfied with +little old New York. Opeki is just a bit too far from civilization to +suit me."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Albert held the letter before him and read it over again before he +moved. Then he jumped to the window. The boat was gone, and there was +not a sign of it on the horizon.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a>"The miserable old hypocrite!" he cried, half angry and half laughing. +"If he thinks I am going to stay here alone he is very greatly mistaken. +And yet, why not?" he asked. He stopped soliloquizing and looked around +him, thinking rapidly. As he stood there, Stedman came in from the other +room, fresh and smiling from his morning's bath.</p> + +<p>"Good morning," he said, "where's the consul?"</p> + +<p>"The consul," said Albert, gravely, "is before you. In me you see the +American consul to Opeki.</p> + +<p>"Captain Travis," Albert explained, "has returned to the United States. +I suppose he feels that he can best serve his country by remaining on +the spot. In case of another war, now, for instance, he would be there +to save it again."</p> + +<p>"And what are you going to do?" asked Stedman, anxiously. "You will not +run away too, will you?"</p> + +<p>Albert said that he intended to remain where he was and perform his +consular duties, to appoint him his secretary, and to elevate the United +States in the <a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a>opinion of the Opekians above all other nations.</p> + +<p>"They may not think much of the United States in England," he said; "but +we are going to teach the people of Opeki that America is first on the +map, and that there is no second."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it's very good of you to make me your secretary," said +Stedman, with some pride. "I hope I won't make any mistakes. What are +the duties of a consul's secretary?"</p> + +<p>"That," said Albert, "I do not know. But you are rather good at +inventing, so you can invent a few. That should be your first duty and +you should attend to it at once. I will have trouble enough finding work +for myself. Your salary is five hundred dollars a year; and now," he +continued, briskly, "we want to prepare for this reception. We can tell +the King that Travis was just a guard of honor for the trip, and that I +have sent him back to tell the President of my safe arrival. That will +keep the President from getting anxious. There is nothing," continued +Albert, "like a uniform to impress people who live in the tropics, and +Travis, it so happens, has two in his trunk. He intended to wear them +on<a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a> State occasions, and as I inherit the trunk and all that is in it, I +intend to wear one of the uniforms, and you can have the other. But I +have first choice, because I am consul."</p> + +<p>Captain Travis's consular outfit consisted of one full dress and one +undress United States uniform. Albert put on the dress-coat over a pair +of white flannel trousers, and looked remarkably brave and handsome. +Stedman, who was only eighteen and quite thin, did not appear so well, +until Albert suggested his padding out his chest and shoulders with +towels. This made him rather warm, but helped his general appearance.</p> + +<p>"The two Bradleys must dress up, too," said Albert. "I think they ought +to act as a guard of honor, don't you? The only things I have are +blazers and jerseys; but it doesn't much matter what they wear, as long +as they dress alike."</p> + +<p>He accordingly called in the two Bradleys, and gave them each a pair of +the captain's rejected white duck trousers, and a blue jersey apiece, +with a big white Y on it.</p> + +<p>"The students of Yale gave me that," he said to the younger Bradley, "in +which to play football, and a great man gave me the <a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a>other. His name is +Walter Camp; and if you rip or soil that jersey, I'll send you back to +England in irons; so be careful."</p> + +<p>Stedman gazed at his companions in their different costumes, doubtfully. +"It reminds me," he said, "of private theatricals. Of the time our +church choir played 'Pinafore.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes," assented Albert; "but I don't think we look quite gay enough. I +tell you what we need,—medals. You never saw a diplomat without a lot +of decorations and medals."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can fix that," Stedman said. "I've got a trunk-full. I used to +be the fastest bicycle-rider in Connecticut, and I've got all my prizes +with me."</p> + +<p>Albert said doubtfully that that wasn't exactly the sort of medal he +meant.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," returned Stedman, as he began fumbling in his trunk; "but +the King won't know the difference. He couldn't tell a cross of the +Legion of Honor from a medal for the tug of war."</p> + +<p>So the bicycle medals, of which Stedman seemed to have an innumerable +quantity, were strung in profusion over Albert's uniform, and in a +lesser quantity over Stedman's; while a handful of leaden ones, those +<a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a>sold on the streets for the Constitutional Centennial, with which +Albert had provided himself, were wrapped up in a red silk handkerchief +for presentation to the King: with them Albert placed a number of brass +rods and brass chains, much to Stedman's delighted approval.</p> + +<p>"That is a very good idea," he said. "Democratic simplicity is the right +thing at home, of course; but when you go abroad and mix with crowned +heads, you want to show them that you know what's what."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Albert, gravely, "I sincerely hope this crowned head don't +know what's what. If he reads 'Connecticut Agricultural State Fair. One +mile bicycle race. First Prize,' on this badge, when we are trying to +make him believe it's a war medal, it may hurt his feelings."</p> + +<p>Bradley, Jr., went ahead to announce the approach of the American +embassy, which he did with so much manner that the King deferred the +audience a half-hour, in order that he might better prepare to receive +his visitors. When the audience did take place, it attracted the entire +population to the green <a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a>spot in front of the King's palace, and their +delight and excitement over the appearance of the visitors was sincere +and hearty. The King was too polite to appear much surprised, but he +showed his delight over his presents as simply and openly as a child. +Thrice he insisted on embracing Albert, and kissing him three times on +the forehead, which, Stedman assured him in a side whisper, was a great +honor; an honor which was not extended to the secretary, although he was +given a necklace of animals' claws instead, with which he was better +satisfied.</p> + +<p>After this reception, the embassy marched back to the consul's office, +surrounded by an immense number of the natives, some of whom ran ahead +and looked back at them, and crowded so close that the two Bradleys had +to poke at those nearest with their guns. The crowd remained outside the +office even after the procession of four had disappeared, and cheered. +This suggested to Gordon that this would be a good time to make a +speech, which he accordingly did, Stedman translating it, sentence by +sentence. At the conclusion of this effort, Albert distributed a number +of brass rings among the married <a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a>men present, which they placed on +whichever finger fitted best, and departed delighted.</p> + +<p>Albert had wished to give the rings to the married women, but Stedman +pointed out to him that it would be much cheaper to give them to the +married men; for while one woman could only have one husband, one man +could have at least six wives.</p> + +<p>"And now, Stedman," said Albert, after the mob had gone, "tell me what +you are doing on this island."</p> + +<p>"It's a very simple story," Stedman said. "I am the representative, or +agent, or operator, for the Yokohama Cable Company. The Yokohama Cable +Company is a company organized in San Francisco, for the purpose of +laying a cable to Yokohama. It is a stock company; and though it started +out very well, the stock has fallen very low. Between ourselves, it is +not worth over three or four cents. When the officers of the company +found out that no one would buy their stock, and that no one believed in +them or their scheme, they laid a cable to Octavia, and extended it on +to this island. Then they said they had run out of ready money, and +would wait until they got more before laying their cable any fur<a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a>ther. I +do not think they ever will lay it any further, but that is none of my +business. My business is to answer cable messages from San Francisco, so +that the people who visit the home office can see that at least a part +of the cable is working. That sometimes impresses them, and they buy +stock. There is another chap over in Octavia, who relays all my messages +and all my replies to those messages that come to me through him from +San Francisco. They never send a message unless they have brought some +one to the office whom they want to impress, and who, they think, has +money to invest in the Y.C.C. stock, and so we never go near the wire, +except at three o'clock every afternoon. And then generally only to say +'How are you?' or 'It's raining,' or something like that. I've been +saying 'It's raining' now for the last three months, but to-day I will +say that the new consul has arrived. That will be a pleasant surprise +for the chap in Octavia, for he must be tired hearing about the weather. +He generally answers, 'Here too,' or 'So you said,' or something like +that. I don't know what he says to the home office. He's brighter than I +am, and that's why they put <a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a>him between the two ends. He can see that +the messages are transmitted more fully and more correctly, in a way to +please possible subscribers."</p> + +<p>"Sort of copy editor," suggested Albert.</p> + +<p>"Yes, something of that sort, I fancy," said Stedman.</p> + +<p>They walked down to the little shed on the shore, where the Y.C.C. +office was placed, at three that day, and Albert watched Stedman send +off his message with much interest. The "chap at Octavia," on being +informed that the American consul had arrived at Opeki, inquired, +somewhat disrespectfully, "Is it a life sentence?"</p> + +<p>"What does he mean by that?" asked Albert.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said his secretary, doubtfully, "that he thinks it a sort +of a punishment to be sent to Opeki. I hope you won't grow to think so."</p> + +<p>"Opeki is all very well," said Gordon, "or it will be when we get things +going our way."</p> + +<p>As they walked back to the office, Albert noticed a brass cannon, +perched on a rock at the entrance to the harbor. This had <a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a>been put +there by the last consul, but it had not been fired for many years. +Albert immediately ordered the two Bradleys to get it in order, and to +rig up a flag-pole beside it, for one of his American flags, which they +were to salute every night when they lowered it at sundown.</p> + +<p>"And when we are not using it," he said, "the King can borrow it to +celebrate with, if he doesn't impose on us too often. The royal salute +ought to be twenty-one guns, I think; but that would use up too much +powder, so he will have to content himself with two."</p> + +<p>"Did you notice," asked Stedman that night, as they sat on the veranda +of the consul's house, in the moonlight, "how the people bowed to us as +we passed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Albert said he had noticed it. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, they never saluted me," replied Stedman. "That sign of respect is +due to the show we made at the reception."</p> + +<p>"It is due to us, in any event," said the consul, severely. "I tell you, +my secretary, that we, as the representatives of the United States +government, must be properly honored on this island. We must become a +power.<a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a> And we must do so without getting into trouble with the King. We +must make them honor him, too, and then as we push him up, we will push +ourselves up at the same time."</p> + +<p>"They don't think much of consuls in Opeki," said Stedman, doubtfully. +"You see the last one was a pretty poor sort. He brought the office into +disrepute, and it wasn't really until I came and told them what a fine +country the United States was, that they had any opinion of it at all. +Now we must change all that."</p> + +<p>"That is just what we will do," said Albert. "We will transform Opeki +into a powerful and beautiful city. We will make these people work. They +must put up a palace for the King, and lay out streets, and build +wharves, and drain the town properly, and light it. I haven't seen this +patent lighting apparatus of yours, but you had better get to work at it +at once, and I'll persuade the King to appoint you commissioner of +highways and gas, with authority to make his people toil. And I," he +cried, in free enthusiasm, "will organize a navy and a standing army. +Only," he added, with a relapse of interest, "there isn't anybody to +fight."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a>"There isn't?" said Stedman, grimly, with a scornful smile. "You just +go hunt up old Messenwah and the Hillmen with your standing army once, +and you'll get all the fighting you want."</p> + +<p>"The Hillmen?" said Albert.</p> + +<p>"The Hillmen are the natives that live up there in the hills," Stedman +said, nodding his head towards the three high mountains at the other end +of the island, that stood out blackly against the purple, moonlit sky. +"There are nearly as many of them as there are Opekians, and they hunt +and fight for a living and for the pleasure of it. They have an old +rascal named Messenwah for a king, and they come down here about once +every three months, and tear things up."</p> + +<p>Albert sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they do, do they?" he said, staring up at the mountain tops. "They +come down here and tear up things, do they? Well, I think we'll stop +that, I think we'll stop that! I don't care how many there are. I'll get +the two Bradleys to tell me all they know about drilling, to-morrow +morning, and we'll drill these Opekians, and have sham battles, and +attacks, and repulses, until I make a lot <a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a>of wild, howling Zulus out of +them. And when the Hillmen come down to pay their quarterly visit, +they'll go back again on a run. At least some of them will," he added +ferociously. "Some of them will stay right here."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, dear me!" said Stedman, with awe; "you are a born fighter, +aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you wait and see," said Gordon; "may be I am. I haven't studied +tactics of war and the history of battles, so that I might be a great +war correspondent, without learning something. And there is only one +king on this island, and that is old Ollypybus himself. And I'll go over +and have a talk with him about it to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Young Stedman walked up and down the length of the veranda, in and out +of the moonlight, with his hands in his pockets, and his head on his +chest. "You have me all stirred up, Gordon," he said; "you seem so +confident and bold, and you're not so much older than I am, either."</p> + +<p>"My training has been different; that's all," said the reporter.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Stedman said bitterly; "I have been sitting in an office ever +since I left <a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a>school, sending news over a wire or a cable, and you have +been out in the world, gathering it."</p> + +<p>"And now," said Gordon, smiling, and putting his arm around the other +boy's shoulders, "we are going to make news ourselves."</p> + +<p>"There is one thing I want to say to you before you turn in," said +Stedman. "Before you suggest all these improvements on Ollypybus, you +must remember that he has ruled absolutely here for twenty years, and +that he does not think much of consuls. He has only seen your +predecessor and yourself. He likes you because you appeared with such +dignity, and because of the presents; but if I were you, I wouldn't +suggest these improvements as coming from yourself."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand," said Gordon; "who could they come from?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Stedman, "if you will allow me to advise,—and you see I +know these people pretty well,—I would have all these suggestions come +from the President direct."</p> + +<p>"The President!" exclaimed Gordon; "but how? what does the President +know or care about Opeki? and it would take so long—<a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a>oh, I see, the +cable. Is that what you have been doing?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, only once," said Stedman, guiltily; "that was when he wanted to +turn me out of the consul's office, and I had a cable that very +afternoon, from the President, ordering me to stay where I was. +Ollypybus doesn't understand the cable, of course, but he knows that it +sends messages; and sometimes I pretend to send messages for him to the +President; but he began asking me to tell the President to come and pay +him a visit, and I had to stop it."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you told me," said Gordon. "The President shall begin to cable +to-morrow. He will need an extra appropriation from Congress to pay for +his private cablegrams alone."</p> + +<p>"And there's another thing," said Stedman. "In all your plans, you've +arranged for the people's improvement, but not for their amusement; and +they are a peaceful, jolly, simple sort of people, and we must please +them."</p> + +<p>"Have they no games or amusements of their own?" asked Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Well, not what we would call games."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a>"Very well, then, I'll teach them base-ball. Foot-ball would be too +warm. But that plaza in front of the King's bungalow, where his palace +is going to be, is just the place for a diamond. On the whole, though," +added the consul, after a moment's reflection, "you'd better attend to +that yourself. I don't think it becomes my dignity as American consul to +take off my coat and give lessons to young Opekians in sliding to bases; +do you? No; I think you'd better do that. The Bradleys will help you, +and you had better begin to-morrow. You have been wanting to know what a +secretary of legation's duties are, and now you know. It's to organize +base-ball nines. And after you get yours ready," he added, as he turned +into his room for the night, "I'll train one that will sweep yours off +the face of the island. For <i>this</i> American consul can pitch three +curves."</p> + +<p>The best-laid plans of men go far astray, sometimes, and the great and +beautiful city that was to rise on the coast of Opeki was not built in a +day. Nor was it ever built. For before the Bradleys could mark out the +foul-lines for the base-ball field on the plaza, or teach their standing +army the goose step, <a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a>or lay bamboo pipes for the water-mains, or clear +away the cactus for the extension of the King's palace, the Hillmen paid +Opeki their quarterly visit.</p> + +<p>Albert had called on the King the next morning, with Stedman as his +interpreter, as he had said he would, and, with maps and sketches, had +shown his Majesty what he proposed to do towards improving Opeki and +ennobling her king, and when the King saw Albert's free-hand sketches of +wharves with tall ships lying at anchor, and rows of Opekian warriors +with the Bradleys at their head, and the design for his new palace, and +a royal sedan-chair, he believed that these things were already his, and +not still only on paper, and he appointed Albert his Minister of War, +Stedman his Minister of Home Affairs, and selected two of his wisest and +oldest subjects to serve them as joint advisers. His enthusiasm was even +greater than Gordon's, because he did not appreciate the difficulties. +He thought Gordon a semi-god, a worker of miracles, and urged the +putting up of a monument to him at once in the public plaza, to which +Albert objected, on the ground that it would be too suggestive of <a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a>an +idol; and to which Stedman also objected, but for the less unselfish +reason that it would "be in the way of the pitcher's box."</p> + +<p>They were feverishly discussing all these great changes, and Stedman was +translating as rapidly as he could translate, the speeches of four +different men,—for the two counsellors had been called in, all of whom +wanted to speak at once,—when there came from outside a great shout, +and the screams of women, and the clashing of iron, and the pattering +footsteps of men running.</p> + +<p>As they looked at one another in startled surprise, a native ran into +the room, followed by Bradley, Jr., and threw himself down before the +King. While he talked, beating his hands and bowing before Ollypybus, +Bradley, Jr., pulled his forelock to the consul, and told how this man +lived on the far outskirts of the village; how he had been captured +while out hunting, by a number of the Hillmen; and how he had escaped to +tell the people that their old enemies were on the war path again, and +rapidly approaching the village.</p> + +<p>Outside, the women were gathering in the plaza, with the children about +them, and the <a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a>men were running from hut to hut, warning their fellows, +and arming themselves with spears and swords, and the native bows and +arrows.</p> + +<p>"They might have waited until we had that army trained," said Gordon, in +a tone of the keenest displeasure. "Tell me, quick, what do they +generally do when they come?"</p> + +<p>"Steal all the cattle and goats, and a woman or two, and set fire to the +huts in the outskirts," replied Stedman.</p> + +<p>"Well, we must stop them," said Gordon, jumping up. "We must take out a +flag of truce and treat with them. They must be kept off until I have my +army in working order. It is most inconvenient. If they had only waited +two months, now, or six weeks even, we could have done something; but +now we must make peace. Tell the King we are going out to fix things +with them, and tell him to keep off his warriors until he learns whether +we succeed or fail."</p> + +<p>"But, Gordon!" gasped Stedman. "Albert! You don't understand. Why, man, +this isn't a street fight or a cane rush. They'll stick you full of +spears, dance on your body, and eat you, maybe. A flag of truce!—you're +<a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a>talking nonsense. What do they know of a flag of truce?"</p> + +<p>"You're talking nonsense, too," said Albert, "and you're talking to your +superior officer. If you are not with me in this, go back to your cable, +and tell the man in Octavia that it's a warm day, and that the sun is +shining; but if you've any spirit in you,—and I think you have,—run to +the office and get my Winchester rifles, and the two shot guns, and my +revolvers, and my uniform, and a lot of brass things for presents, and +run all the way there and back. And make time. Play you're riding a +bicycle at the Agricultural Fair."</p> + +<p>Stedman did not hear this last; for he was already off and away, pushing +through the crowd, and calling on Bradley, Sr., to follow him. Bradley, +Jr., looked at Gordon with eyes that snapped, like a dog that is waiting +for his master to throw a stone.</p> + +<p>"I can fire a Winchester, sir," he said. "Old Tom can't. He's no good at +long range 'cept with a big gun, sir. Don't give him the Winchester. +Give it to me, please, sir."</p> + +<p>Albert met Stedman in the plaza, and <a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a>pulled off his blazer, and put on +Captain Travis's—now his—uniform coat, and his white pith helmet.</p> + +<p>"Now, Jack," he said, "get up there and tell these people that we are +going out to make peace with these Hillmen, or bring them back prisoners +of war. Tell them we are the preservers of their homes and wives and +children; and you, Bradley, take these presents, and young Bradley, keep +close to me, and carry this rifle."</p> + +<p>Stedman's speech was hot and wild enough to suit a critical and feverish +audience before a barricade in Paris. And when he was through, Gordon +and Bradley punctuated his oration by firing off the two Winchester +rifles in the air, at which the people jumped and fell on their knees, +and prayed to their several gods. The fighting men of the village +followed the four white men to the outskirts, and took up their stand +there as Stedman told them to do, and the four walked on over the +roughly hewn road, to meet the enemy.</p> + +<p>Gordon walked with Bradley, Jr., in advance. Stedman and old Tom Bradley +followed close behind, with the two shot-guns, and the presents in a +basket.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a>"Are these Hillmen used to guns?" asked Gordon. Stedman said no, they +were not.</p> + +<p>"This shot-gun of mine is the only one on the island," he explained, +"and we never came near enough them, before, to do anything with it. It +only carries a hundred yards. The Opekians never make any show of +resistance. They are quite content if the Hillmen satisfy themselves +with the outlying huts, as long as they leave them and the town alone; +so they seldom come to close quarters."</p> + +<p>The four men walked on for a half an hour or so, in silence, peering +eagerly on every side; but it was not until they had left the woods and +marched out into the level stretch of grassy country, that they came +upon the enemy. The Hillmen were about forty in number, and were as +savage and ugly-looking giants as any in a picture book. They had +captured a dozen cows and goats, and were driving them on before them, +as they advanced further upon the village. When they saw the four men, +they gave a mixed chorus of cries and yells, and some of them stopped, +and others ran forward, shaking their spears, and shooting their broad +arrows into the ground before them. A tall, gray-bearded, <a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a>muscular old +man, with a skirt of feathers about him, and necklaces of bones and +animals' claws around his bare chest, ran in front of them, and seemed +to be trying to make them approach more slowly.</p> + +<p>"Is that Messenwah?" asked Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Stedman; "he is trying to keep them back. I don't believe he +ever saw a white man before."</p> + +<p>"Stedman," said Albert, speaking quickly, "give your gun to Bradley, and +go forward with your arms in the air, and waving your handkerchief, and +tell them in their language that the King is coming. If they go at you, +Bradley and I will kill a goat or two, to show them what we can do with +the rifles; and if that don't stop them, we will shoot at their legs; +and if that don't stop them—I guess you'd better come back, and we'll +all run."</p> + +<p>Stedman looked at Albert, and Albert looked at Stedman, and neither of +them winced or flinched.</p> + +<p>"Is this another of my secretary's duties?" asked the younger boy.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the consul; "but a resignation is always in order. You +needn't go if you <a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a>don't like it. You see, you know the language and I +don't, but I know how to shoot, and you don't."</p> + +<p>"That's perfectly satisfactory," said Stedman, handing his gun to old +Bradley. "I only wanted to know why I was to be sacrificed, instead of +one of the Bradleys. It's because I know the language. Bradley, Sr., you +see the evil results of a higher education. Wish me luck, please," he +said, "and for goodness' sake," he added impressively, "don't waste much +time shooting goats."</p> + +<p>The Hillmen had stopped about two hundred yards off, and were drawn up +in two lines, shouting, and dancing, and hurling taunting remarks at +their few adversaries. The stolen cattle were bunched together back of +the King. As Stedman walked steadily forward with his handkerchief +fluttering, and howling out something in their own tongue, they stopped +and listened. As he advanced, his three companions followed him at about +fifty yards in the rear. He was one hundred and fifty yards from the +Hillmen, before they made out what he said, and then one of the young +braves, resenting it as an insult to his chief, shot an arrow at him. +Stedman dodged <a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a>the arrow, and stood his ground without even taking a +step backwards, only turning slightly to put his hands to his mouth, and +to shout something which sounded to his companions like, "About time to +begin on the goats." But the instant the young man had fired, King +Messenwah swung his club and knocked him down, and none of the others +moved. Then Messenwah advanced before his men to meet Stedman, and on +Stedman's opening and shutting his hands to show that he was unarmed, +the King threw down his club and spears, and came forward as +empty-handed as himself.</p> + +<p>"Ah," gasped Bradley, Jr., with his finger trembling on his lever, "let +me take a shot at him now." Gordon struck the man's gun up, and walked +forward in all the glory of his gold and blue uniform; for both he and +Stedman saw now that Messenwah was more impressed by their appearance, +and in the fact that they were white men, than with any threats of +immediate war. So when he saluted Gordon haughtily, that young man gave +him a haughty nod in return, and bade Stedman tell the King that he +would permit him to sit down. The King did not quite <a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a>appear to like +this, but he sat down, nevertheless, and nodded his head gravely.</p> + +<p>"Now tell him," said Gordon, "that I come from the ruler of the greatest +nation on earth, and that I recognize Ollypybus as the only King of this +island, and that I come to this little three-penny King with either +peace and presents, or bullets and war."</p> + +<p>"Have I got to tell him he's a little three-penny King?" said Stedman, +plaintively.</p> + +<p>"No; you needn't give a literal translation; it can be as free as you +please."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said the secretary, humbly.</p> + +<p>"And tell him," continued Gordon, "that we will give presents to him and +his warriors if he keeps away from Ollypybus, and agrees to keep away +always. If he won't do that, try to get him to agree to stay away for +three months at least, and by that time we can get word to San +Francisco, and have a dozen muskets over here in two months; and when +our time of probation is up, and he and his merry men come dancing down +the hillside, we will blow them up as high as his mountains. But you +needn't tell him that, either. And if he is proud and haughty, and would +rather fight, ask him to restrain himself until we show <a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a>what we can do +with our weapons at two hundred yards."</p> + +<p>Stedman seated himself in the long grass in front of the King, and with +many revolving gestures of his arms, and much pointing at Gordon, and +profound nods and bows, retold what Gordon had dictated. When he had +finished, the King looked at the bundle of presents, and at the guns, of +which Stedman had given a very wonderful account, but answered nothing.</p> + +<p>"I guess," said Stedman, with a sigh, "that we will have to give him a +little practical demonstration to help matters. I am sorry, but I think +one of those goats has got to die. It's like vivisection. The lower +order of animals have to suffer for the good of the higher."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Bradley, Jr., cheerfully, "I'd just as soon shoot one of +those niggers as one of the goats."</p> + +<p>So Stedman bade the King tell his men to drive a goat towards them, and +the King did so, and one of the men struck one of the goats with his +spear, and it ran clumsily across the plain.</p> + +<p>"Take your time, Bradley," said Gordon. "Aim low, and if you hit it, you +can have it for supper."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a>"And if you miss it," said Stedman, gloomily, "Messenwah may have us +for supper."</p> + +<p>The Hillmen had seated themselves a hundred yards off, while the leaders +were debating, and they now rose curiously and watched Bradley, as he +sank upon one knee, and covered the goat with his rifle. When it was +about one hundred and fifty yards off, he fired, and the goat fell over +dead.</p> + +<p>And then all the Hillmen, with the King himself, broke away on a run, +towards the dead animal, with much shouting. The King came back alone, +leaving his people standing about and examining the goat. He was much +excited, and talked and gesticulated violently.</p> + +<p>"He says—" said Stedman; "he says—"</p> + +<p>"What? yes; go on."</p> + +<p>"He says—goodness me!—what do you think he says?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what does he say?" cried Gordon, in great excitement. "Don't keep +it all to yourself."</p> + +<p>"He says," said Stedman, "that we are deceived. That he is no longer +King of the Island of Opeki, that he is in great fear of us, and that he +has got himself into no end of trouble. He says he sees that we are +indeed <a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a>mighty men, that to us he is as helpless as the wild boar before +the javelin of the hunter."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's right," said Gordon. "Go on."</p> + +<p>"But that which we ask is no longer his to give. He has sold his +kingship and his right to this island to another king, who came to him +two days ago in a great canoe, and who made noises as we do,—with guns, +I suppose he means,—and to whom he sold the island for a watch that he +has in a bag around his neck. And that he signed a paper, and made marks +on a piece of bark, to show that he gave up the island freely and +forever."</p> + +<p>"What does he mean?" said Gordon. "How can he give up the island? +Ollypybus is the king of half of it, anyway, and he knows it."</p> + +<p>"That's just it," said Stedman. "That's what frightens him. He said he +didn't care about Ollypybus, and didn't count him in when he made the +treaty, because he is such a peaceful chap that he knew he could thrash +him into doing anything he wanted him to do. And now that you have +turned up and taken Ollypybus's part, he wishes he hadn't sold the +island, and wishes to know if you are angry."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a>"Angry? of course I'm angry," said Gordon, glaring as grimly at the +frightened monarch as he thought was safe. "Who wouldn't be angry? Who +do you think these people were who made a fool of him, Stedman? Ask him +to let us see this watch."</p> + +<p>Stedman did so, and the King fumbled among his necklaces until he had +brought out a leather bag tied round his neck with a cord, and +containing a plain stem-winding silver watch marked on the inside +"Munich."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't tell anything," said Gordon. "But it's plain enough. Some +foreign ship of war has settled on this place as a coaling-station, or +has annexed it for colonization, and they've sent a boat ashore, and +they've made a treaty with this old chap, and forced him to sell his +birthright for a mess of porridge. Now, that's just like those +monarchical pirates, imposing upon a poor old black."</p> + +<p>Old Bradley looked at him impudently.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Gordon; "it's quite different with us; we don't want +to rob him or Ollypybus, or to annex their land. All we want to do is to +improve it, and have the fun of running it for them and meddling in +<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a>their affairs of state. Well, Stedman," he said, "what shall we do?"</p> + +<p>Stedman said that the best and only thing to do was to threaten to take +the watch away from Messenwah, but to give him a revolver instead, which +would make a friend of him for life, and to keep him supplied with +cartridges only as long as he behaved himself, and then to make him +understand that, as Ollypybus had not given his consent to the loss of +the island, Messenwah's agreement, or treaty, or whatever it was, did +not stand, and that he had better come down the next day, early in the +morning, and join in a general consultation. This was done, and +Messenwah agreed willingly to their proposition, and was given his +revolver and shown how to shoot it, while the other presents were +distributed among the other men, who were as happy over them as girls +with a full dance-card.</p> + +<p>"And now, to-morrow," said Stedman, "understand, you are all to come +down unarmed, and sign a treaty with great Ollypybus, in which he will +agree to keep to one half of the island, if you keep to yours, and there +must be no more wars or goat <a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a>stealing, or this gentleman on my right +and I will come up and put holes in you just as the gentleman on the +left did with the goat."</p> + +<p>Messenwah and his warriors promised to come early, and saluted +reverently as Gordon and his three companions walked up together very +proudly and stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Do you know how I feel?" said Gordon.</p> + +<p>"How?" asked Stedman.</p> + +<p>"I feel as I used to do in the city, when the boys in the street were +throwing snow-balls, and I had to go by with a high hat on my head and +pretend not to know they were behind me. I always felt a cold chill down +my spinal column, and I could feel that snow-ball, whether it came or +not, right in the small of my back. And I can feel one of those men +pulling his bow, now, and the arrow sticking out of my right shoulder."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, you can't," said Stedman. "They are too much afraid of those +rifles. But I do feel sorry for any of those warriors whom old man +Massenwah doesn't like, now that he has that revolver. He isn't the sort +to practise on goats."</p> + +<p>There was great rejoicing when Stedman <a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a>and Gordon told their story to +the King, and the people learned that they were not to have their huts +burned and their cattle stolen. The armed Opekians formed a guard around +the ambassadors and escorted them to their homes with cheers and shouts, +and the women ran at their side and tried to kiss Gordon's hand.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I can't speak the language, Stedman," said Gordon, "or I +would tell them what a brave man you are. You are too modest to do it +yourself, even if I dictated something for you to say. As for me," he +said, pulling off his uniform, "I am thoroughly disgusted and +disappointed. It never occurred to me until it was all over, that this +was my chance to be a war correspondent. It wouldn't have been much of a +war, but then I would have been the only one on the spot, and that +counts for a great deal. Still, my time may come."</p> + +<p>"We have a great deal on hand for to-morrow," said Gordon that evening, +"and we had better turn in early."</p> + +<p>And so the people were still singing and rejoicing down in the village, +when the two conspirators for the peace of the country <a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a>went to sleep +for the night. It seemed to Gordon as though he had hardly turned his +pillow twice to get the coolest side, when some one touched him, and he +saw, by the light of the dozen glow-worms in the tumbler by his bedside, +a tall figure at its foot.</p> + +<p>"It's me—Bradley," said the figure.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Gordon, with the haste of a man to show that sleep has no +hold on him; "exactly; what is it?"</p> + +<p>"There is a ship of war in the harbor," Bradley answered in a whisper. +"I heard her anchor chains rattle when she came to, and that woke me. I +could hear that if I were dead. And then I made sure by her lights; +she's a great boat, sir, and I can know she's a ship of war by the +challenging, when they change the watch. I thought you'd like to know, +sir."</p> + +<p>Gordon sat up and clutched his knees with his hands. "Yes, of course," +he said; "you are quite right. Still, I don't see what there is to do."</p> + +<p>He did not wish to show too much youthful interest, but though fresh +from civilization, he had learned how far from it he was, and he was +curious to see this sign of it that had <a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a>come so much more quickly than +he had anticipated.</p> + +<p>"Wake Mr. Stedman, will you?" said he, "and we will go and take a look +at her."</p> + +<p>"You can see nothing but the lights," said Bradley, as he left the room; +"it's a black night, sir."</p> + +<p>Stedman was not new from the sight of men and ships of war, and came in +half dressed and eager.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose it's the big canoe Messenwah spoke of?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I thought of that," said Gordon.</p> + +<p>The three men fumbled their way down the road to the plaza, and saw, as +soon as they turned into it, the great outlines and the brilliant lights +of an immense vessel, still more immense in the darkness, and glowing +like a strange monster of the sea, with just a suggestion here and +there, where the lights spread, of her cabins and bridges. As they stood +on the shore, shivering in the cool night wind, they heard the bells +strike over the water.</p> + +<p>"It's two o'clock," said Bradley, counting.</p> + +<p>"Well, we can do nothing, and they can<a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a>not mean to do much to-night," +Albert said. "We had better get some more sleep, and, Bradley, you keep +watch and tell us as soon as day breaks."</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye, sir," said the sailor.</p> + +<p>"If that's the man-of-war that made the treaty with Messenwah, and +Messenwah turns up to-morrow, it looks as if our day would be pretty +well filled up," said Albert, as they felt their way back to the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"What do you intend to do?" asked his secretary, with a voice of some +concern.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Albert answered gravely, from the blackness of the +night. "It looks as if we were getting ahead just a little too fast; +doesn't it? Well," he added, as they reached the house, "let's try to +keep in step with the procession, even if we can't be drum-majors and +walk in front of it." And with this cheering tone of confidence in their +ears, the two diplomats went soundly asleep again.</p> + +<p>The light of the rising sun filled the room, and the parrots were +chattering outside, when Bradley woke him again.</p> + +<p>"They are sending a boat ashore, sir," he said excitedly, and filled +with the impor<a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a>tance of the occasion. "She's a German man-of-war, and +one of the new model. A beautiful boat, sir; for her lines were laid in +Glasgow, and I can tell that, no matter what flag she flies. You had +best be moving to meet them: the village isn't awake yet."</p> + +<p>Albert took a cold bath and dressed leisurely; then he made Bradley, +Jr., who had slept through it all, get up breakfast, and the two young +men ate it and drank their coffee comfortably and with an air of +confidence that deceived their servants, if it did not deceive +themselves. But when they came down the path, smoking and swinging their +sticks, and turned into the plaza, their composure left them like a +mask, and they stopped where they stood. The plaza was enclosed by the +natives gathered in whispering groups, and depressed by fear and wonder. +On one side were crowded all the Messenwah warriors, unarmed, and as +silent and disturbed as the Opekians. In the middle of the plaza some +twenty sailors were busy rearing and bracing a tall flag-staff that they +had shaped from a royal palm, and they did this as unconcernedly and as +con<a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a>temptuously, and with as much indifference to the strange groups on +either side of them, as though they were working on a barren coast, with +nothing but the startled sea-gulls about them. As Albert and Stedman +came upon the scene, the flag-pole was in place, and the halliards hung +from it with a little bundle of bunting at the end of one of them.</p> + +<p>"We must find the King at once," said Gordon. He was terribly excited +and angry. "It is easy enough to see what this means. They are going +through the form of annexing this island to the other lands of the +German government. They are robbing old Ollypybus of what is his. They +have not even given him a silver watch for it."</p> + +<p>The King was in his bungalow, facing the plaza. Messenwah was with him, +and an equal number of each of their councils. The common danger had +made them lie down together in peace; but they gave a murmur of relief +as Gordon strode into the room with no ceremony, and greeted them with a +curt wave of the hand.</p> + +<p>"Now then, Stedman, be quick," he said. "Explain to them what this +means; tell <a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a>them that I will protect them; that I am anxious to see +that Ollypybus is not cheated; that we will do all we can for them."</p> + +<p>Outside, on the shore, a second boat's crew had landed a group of +officers and a file of marines. They walked in all the dignity of full +dress across the plaza to the flag-pole, and formed in line on the three +sides of it, with the marines facing the sea. The officers, from the +captain with a prayer book in his hand, to the youngest middy, were as +indifferent to the frightened natives about them as the other men had +been. The natives, awed and afraid, crouched back among their huts, the +marines and the sailors kept their eyes front, and the German captain +opened his prayer-book. The debate in the bungalow was over.</p> + +<p>"If you only had your uniform, sir," said Bradley, Sr., miserably.</p> + +<p>"This is a little bit too serious for uniforms and bicycle medals," said +Gordon. "And these men are used to gold lace."</p> + +<p>He pushed his way through the natives, and stepped confidently across +the plaza. The youngest middy saw him coming, and nudged the one next +him with his elbow, <a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a>and he nudged the next, but none of the officers +moved, because the captain had begun to read.</p> + +<p>"One minute, please," called Gordon.</p> + +<p>He stepped out into the hollow square formed by the marines, and raised +his helmet to the captain.</p> + +<p>"Do you speak English or French?" Gordon said in French; "I do not +understand German."</p> + +<p>The captain lowered the book in his hands and gazed reflectively at +Gordon through his spectacles, and made no reply.</p> + +<p>"If I understand this," said the younger man, trying to be very +impressive and polite, "you are laying claim to this land, in behalf of +the German government."</p> + +<p>The captain continued to observe him thoughtfully, and then said, "That +iss so," and then asked, "Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I represent the King of this island, Ollypybus, whose people you see +around you. I also represent the United States government that does not +tolerate a foreign power near her coast, since the days of President +Monroe and before. The treaty you have made with Messenwah is an +absurdity.<a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a> There is only one king with whom to treat, and he—"</p> + +<p>The captain turned to one of his officers and said something, and then, +after giving another curious glance at Gordon, raised his book and +continued reading, in a deep, unruffled monotone. The officer whispered +an order, and two of the marines stepped out of line, and dropping the +muzzles of their muskets, pushed Gordon back out of the enclosure, and +left him there with his lips white, and trembling all over with +indignation. He would have liked to have rushed back into the lines and +broken the captain's spectacles over his sun-tanned nose and cheeks, but +he was quite sure this would only result in his getting shot, or in his +being made ridiculous before the natives, which was almost as bad; so he +stood still for a moment, with his blood choking him, and then turned +and walked back to where the King and Stedman were whispering together. +Just as he turned, one of the men pulled the halyards, the ball of +bunting ran up into the air, bobbed, twitched, and turned, and broke +into the folds of the German flag. At the same moment the marines raised +their <a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a>muskets and fired a volley, and the officers saluted and the +sailors cheered.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that?" cried Stedman, catching Gordon's humor, to Ollypybus; +"that means that you are no longer king, that strange people are coming +here to take your land, and to turn your people into servants, and to +drive you back into the mountains. Are you going to submit? are you +going to let that flag stay where it is?"</p> + +<p>Messenwah and Ollypybus gazed at one another with fearful, helpless +eyes. "We are afraid," Ollypybus cried; "we do not know what we should +do."</p> + +<p>"What do they say?"</p> + +<p>"They say they do not know what to do."</p> + +<p>"I know what I'd do," cried Gordon. "If I were not an American consul, +I'd pull down their old flag, and put a hole in their boat and sink +her."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'd wait until they get under way, before you do either of those +things," said Stedman, soothingly. "That captain seems to be a man of +much determination of character."</p> + +<p>"But I will pull it down," cried Gordon. "I will resign, as Travis did. +I am no longer consul. You can be consul if you want to.<a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a> I promote you. +I am going up a step higher. I mean to be king. Tell those two," he ran +on excitedly, "that their only course and only hope is in me; that they +must make me ruler of the island until this thing is over; that I will +resign again as soon as it is settled, but that some one must act at +once, and if they are afraid to, I am not, only they must give me +authority to act for them. They must abdicate in my favor."</p> + +<p>"Are you in earnest?" gasped Stedman.</p> + +<p>"Don't I talk as if I were?" demanded Gordon, wiping the perspiration +from his forehead.</p> + +<p>"And can I be consul?" said Stedman, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Of course. Tell them what I propose to do."</p> + +<p>Stedman turned and spoke rapidly to the two kings. The people gathered +closer to hear.</p> + +<p>The two rival monarchs looked at one another in silence for a moment, +and then both began to speak at once, their counsellors interrupting +them and mumbling their guttural comments with anxious earnestness. It +did not take them very long to see that they <a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a>were all of one mind, and +then they both turned to Gordon and dropped on one knee, and placed his +hands on their foreheads, and Stedman raised his cap.</p> + +<p>"They agree," he explained, for it was but pantomime to Albert. "They +salute you as a ruler; they are calling you Tellaman, which means +peacemaker. The Peacemaker, that is your title. I hope you will deserve +it, but I think they might have chosen a more appropriate one."</p> + +<p>"Then I'm really King?" demanded Albert, decidedly, "and I can do what I +please? They give me full power. Quick, do they?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but don't do it," begged Stedman, "and just remember I am American +consul now, and that is a much superior being to a crowned monarch; you +said so yourself."</p> + +<p>Albert did not reply to this, but ran across the plaza followed by the +two Bradleys. The boats had gone.</p> + +<p>"Hoist that flag beside the brass cannon," he cried, "and stand ready to +salute it when I drop this one."</p> + +<p>Bradley, Jr., grasped the halliards of the flag, which he had forgotten +to raise and salute in the morning in all the excitement <a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a>of the arrival +of the man-of-war. Bradley, Sr., stood by the brass cannon, blowing +gently on his lighted fuse. The Peacemaker took the halliards of the +German flag in his two hands, gave a quick, sharp tug, and down came the +red, white, and black piece of bunting, and the next moment young +Bradley sent the stars and stripes up in their place. As it rose, +Bradley's brass cannon barked merrily like a little bull-dog, and the +Peacemaker cheered.</p> + +<p>"What don't you cheer, Stedman?" he shouted. "Tell those people to cheer +for all they are worth. What sort of an American consul are you?"</p> + +<p>Stedman raised his arm half-heartedly to give the time, and opened his +mouth; but his arm remained fixed and his mouth open, while his eyes +stared at the retreating boat of the German man-of-war. In the stern +sheets of this boat, the stout German captain was struggling unsteadily +to his feet; he raised his arm and waved it to some one on the great +man-of-war, as though giving an order. The natives looked from Stedman +to the boat, and even Gordon stopped in his cheering and stood +motionless, watching. They had not <a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a>very long to wait. There was a puff +of white smoke, and a flash, and then a loud report, and across the +water came a great black ball skipping lightly through and over the +waves, as easily as a flat stone thrown by a boy. It seemed to come very +slowly. At least it came slowly enough for every one to see that it was +coming directly towards the brass cannon. The Bradleys certainly saw +this, for they ran as fast as they could, and kept on running. The ball +caught the cannon under its mouth, and tossed it in the air, knocking +the flag-pole into a dozen pieces, and passing on through two of the +palm-covered huts.</p> + +<p>"Great Heavens, Gordon!" cried Stedman; "they are firing on us."</p> + +<p>But Gordon's face was radiant and wild.</p> + +<p>"Firing on <i>us</i>!" he cried. "On <i>us</i>! Don't you see? Don't you +understand? What do <i>we</i> amount to? They have fired on the American +flag. Don't you see what that means? It means war. A great international +war. And I am a war correspondent at last!" He ran up to Stedman and +seized him by the arm so tightly that it hurt.</p> + +<p>"By three o'clock," he said, "they will know in the office what has +happened. The <a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a>country will know it to-morrow when the paper is on the +street; people will read it all over the world. The Emperor will hear of +it at breakfast; the President will cable for further particulars. He +will get them. It is the chance of a lifetime, and we are on the spot!"</p> + +<p>Stedman did not hear this; he was watching the broadside of the ship to +see another puff of white smoke, but there came no such sign. The two +row-boats were raised, there was a cloud of black smoke from the funnel, +a creaking of chains sounding faintly across the water, and the ship +started at half speed and moved out of the harbor. The Opekians and the +Hillmen fell on their knees, or to dancing, as best suited their sense +of relief, but Gordon shook his head.</p> + +<p>"They are only going to land the marines," he said; "perhaps they are +going to the spot they stopped at before, or to take up another position +further out at sea. They will land men and then shell the town, and the +land forces will march here and cooperate with the vessel, and everybody +will be taken prisoner or killed. We have the centre of the stage, and +we are making history."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a>"I'd rather read it than make it," said Stedman. "You've got us in a +senseless, silly position, Gordon, and a mighty unpleasant one. And for +no reason that I can see, except to make copy for your paper."</p> + +<p>"Tell those people to get their things together," said Gordon, "and +march back out of danger into the woods. Tell Ollypybus I am going to +fix things all right; I don't know just how yet, but I will, and now +come after me as quickly as you can to the cable office. I've got to +tell the paper all about it."</p> + +<p>It was three o'clock before the "chap at Octavia" answered Stedman's +signalling. Then Stedman delivered Gordon's message, and immediately +shut off all connection, before the Octavia operator could question him. +Gordon dictated his message in this way:—</p> + +<p>"Begin with the date line, 'Opeki, June 22.'</p> + +<p>"At seven o'clock this morning, the captain and officers of the German +man-of-war, <i>Kaiser</i>, went through the ceremony of annexing this island +in the name of the German Emperor, basing their right to do so on an +agreement made with a leader of a wandering <a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a>tribe, known as the +Hillmen. King Ollypybus, the present monarch of Opeki, delegated his +authority, as also did the leader of the Hillmen, to King Tallaman, or +the Peacemaker, who tore down the German flag, and raised that of the +United States in its place. At the same moment the flag was saluted by +the battery. This salute, being mistaken for an attack on the <i>Kaiser</i>, +was answered by that vessel. Her first shot took immediate effect, +completely destroying the entire battery of the Opekians, cutting down +the American flag, and destroying the houses of the people—"</p> + +<p>"There was only one brass cannon and two huts," expostulated Stedman.</p> + +<p>"Well, that was the whole battery, wasn't it?" asked Gordon, "and two +huts is plural. I said houses of the people. I couldn't say two houses +of the people. Just you send this as you get it. You are not an American +consul at the present moment. You are an under-paid agent of a cable +company, and you send my stuff as I write it. The American residents +have taken refuge in the consulate—that's us," explained Gordon, "and +the English residents have sought refuge in <a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a>the woods—that's the +Bradleys. King Tellaman—that's me—declares his intention of fighting +against the annexation. The forces of the Opekians are under the command +of Captain Thomas Bradley—I guess I might as well made him a +colonel—of Colonel Thomas Bradley, of the English army.</p> + +<p>"The American consul says—Now, what do you say, Stedman? Hurry up, +please," asked Gordon, "and say something good and strong."</p> + +<p>"You get me all mixed up," complained Stedman, plaintively. "Which am I +now, a cable operator or the American consul?"</p> + +<p>"Consul, of course. Say something patriotic and about your determination +to protect the interests of your government, and all that." Gordon bit +the end of his pencil impatiently, and waited.</p> + +<p>"I won't do anything of the sort, Gordon," said Stedman; "you are +getting me into an awful lot of trouble, and yourself too. I won't say a +word."</p> + +<p>"The American consul," read Gordon, as his pencil wriggled across the +paper, "refuses to say anything for publication until he has +communicated with the authorities at<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a> Washington, but from all I can +learn he sympathizes entirely with Tellaman. Your correspondent has just +returned from an audience with King Tellaman, who asks him to inform the +American people that the Monroe doctrine will be sustained as long as he +rules this island. I guess that's enough to begin with," said Gordon. +"Now send that off quick, and then get away from the instrument before +the man in Octavia begins to ask questions. I am going out to +precipitate matters."</p> + +<p>Gordon found the two kings sitting dejectedly side by side, and gazing +grimly upon the disorder of the village, from which the people were +taking their leave as quickly as they could get their few belongings +piled upon the ox-carts. Gordon walked amongst them, helping them in +every way he could, and tasting, in their subservience and gratitude, +the sweets of sovereignty. When Stedman had locked up the cable office +and rejoined him, he bade him tell Messenwah to send three of his +youngest men and fastest runners back to the hills to watch for the +German vessel and see where she was attempting to land her marines.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a>"This is a tremendous chance for descriptive writing, Stedman," said +Gordon, enthusiastically, "all this confusion and excitement, and the +people leaving their homes and all that. It's like the people getting +out of Brussels before Waterloo, and then the scene at the foot of the +mountains, while they are camping out there, until the Germans leave. I +never had a chance like this before."</p> + +<p>It was quite dark by six o'clock, and none of the three messengers had +as yet returned. Gordon walked up and down the empty plaza and looked +now at the horizon for the man-of-war, and again down the road back of +the village. But neither the vessel nor the messengers, bearing word of +her, appeared. The night passed without any incident, and in the morning +Gordon's impatience became so great that he walked out to where the +villagers were in camp and passed on half way up the mountain, but he +could see no sign of the man-of-war. He came back more restless than +before, and keenly disappointed.</p> + +<p>"If something don't happen before three o'clock, Stedman," he said, "our +second cablegram will have to consist of glittering <a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a>generalities and a +lengthy interview with King Tellaman, by himself."</p> + +<p>Nothing did happen. Ollypybus and Messenwah began to breathe more +freely. They believed the new king had succeeded in frightening the +German vessel away forever. But the new king upset their hopes by +telling them that the Germans had undoubtedly already landed, and had +probably killed the three messengers.</p> + +<p>"Now then," he said, with pleased expectation, as Stedman and he seated +themselves in the cable office at three o'clock, "open it up and let's +find out what sort of an impression we have made."</p> + +<p>Stedman's face, as the answer came in to his first message of greeting, +was one of strangely marked disapproval.</p> + +<p>"What does he say?" demanded Gordon, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"He hasn't done anything but swear yet," answered Stedman, grimly.</p> + +<p>"What is he swearing about?"</p> + +<p>"He wants to know why I left the cable yesterday. He says he has been +trying to call me up for the last twenty-four hours ever since I sent my +message at three o'clock<a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a> The home office is jumping mad, and want me +discharged. They won't do that, though," he said, in a cheerful aside, +"because they haven't paid me my salary for the last eight months. He +says—great Scott! this will please you, Gordon—he says that there have +been over two hundred queries for matter from papers all over the United +States, and from Europe. Your paper beat them on the news, and now the +home office is packed with San Francisco reporters, and the telegrams +are coming in every minute, and they have been abusing him for not +answering them, and he says that I'm a fool. He wants as much as you can +send, and all the details. He says all the papers will have to put 'By +Yokohama Cable Company' on the top of each message they print, and that +that is advertising the company, and is sending the stock up. It rose +fifteen points on 'change in San Francisco to-day, and the president and +the other officers are buying—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't want to hear about their old company," snapped out Gordon, +pacing up and down in despair. "What am I to do? that's what I want to +know. Here I have the whole country stirred up and begging for news.<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a> On +their knees for it, and a cable all to myself and the only man on the +spot, and nothing to say. I'd just like to know how long that German +idiot intends to wait before he begins shelling this town and killing +people. He has put me in a most absurd position."</p> + +<p>"Here's a message for you, Gordon," said Stedman, with business-like +calm. "Albert Gordon, Correspondent," he read: "Try American consul. +First message O.K.; beat the country; can take all you send. Give names +of foreign residents massacred, and fuller account blowing up palace. +Dodge."</p> + +<p>The expression on Gordon's face as this message was slowly read off to +him, had changed from one of gratified pride to one of puzzled +consternation.</p> + +<p>"What's he mean by foreign residents massacred, and blowing up of +palace?" asked Stedman, looking over his shoulder anxiously. "Who is +Dodge?"</p> + +<p>"Dodge is the night editor," said Gordon, nervously. "They must have +read my message wrong. You sent just what I gave you, didn't you?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course I did," said Stedman, indignantly.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a>"I didn't say anything about the massacre of anybody, did I?" asked +Gordon. "I hope they are not improving on my account. What <i>am</i> I to do? +This is getting awful. I'll have to go out and kill a few people myself. +Oh, why don't that Dutch captain begin to do something! What sort of a +fighter does he call himself? He wouldn't shoot at a school of +porpoises. He's not—"</p> + +<p>"Here comes a message to Leonard T. Travis, American consul, Opeki," +read Stedman. "It's raining messages to-day. 'Send full details of +massacre of American citizens by German sailors.' Secretary of—great +Scott!" gasped Stedman, interrupting himself and gazing at his +instrument with horrified fascination—"the Secretary of State."</p> + +<p>"That settles it," roared Gordon, pulling at his hair and burying his +face in his hands. "I have <i>got</i> to kill some of them now."</p> + +<p>"Albert Gordon, Correspondent," read Stedman, impressively, like the +voice of Fate. "Is Colonel Thomas Bradley commanding native forces at +Opeki, Colonel Sir Thomas Kent-Bradley of Crimean war fame? +Correspondent London <i>Times</i>, San Francisco Press Club."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a>"Go on, go on!" said Gordon, desperately. "I'm getting used to it now. +Go on!"</p> + +<p>"American consul, Opeki," read Stedman. "Home Secretary desires you to +furnish list of names English residents killed during shelling of Opeki +by ship of war <i>Kaiser</i>, and estimate of amount property destroyed. +Stoughton, British Embassy, Washington."</p> + +<p>"Stedman!" cried Gordon, jumping to his feet, "there's a mistake here +somewhere. These people cannot all have made my message read like that. +Some one has altered it, and now I have got to make these people here +live up to that message, whether they like being massacred and blown up +or not. Don't answer any of those messages, except the one from Dodge; +tell him things have quieted down a bit, and that I'll send four +thousand words on the flight of the natives from the village, and their +encampment at the foot of the mountains, and of the exploring party we +have sent out to look for the German vessel; and now I am going out to +make something happen."</p> + +<p>Gordon said that he would be gone for two hours at least, and as Stedman +did not feel capable of receiving any more nerve-stirring <a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a>messages, he +cut off all connection with Octavia, by saying, "Good-by for two hours." +and running away from the office. He sat down on a rock on the beach, +and mopped his face with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"After a man has taken nothing more exciting than weather reports from +Octavia for a year," he soliloquized, "it's a bit disturbing to have all +the crowned heads of Europe and their secretaries calling upon you for +details of a massacre that never came off."</p> + +<p>At the end of two hours Gordon returned from the consulate with a mass +of manuscript in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Here's three thousand words," he said desperately. "I never wrote more +and said less in my life. It will make them weep at the office. I had to +pretend that they knew all that had happened so far; they apparently do +know more than we do, and I have filled it full of prophesies of more +trouble ahead, and with interviews with myself and the two ex-Kings. The +only news element in it is, that the messengers have returned to report +that the German vessel is not in sight, and that there is no news. They +think she has gone for good. Suppose she has, Stedman," he <a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a>groaned, +looking at him helplessly, "what <i>am</i> I going to do?"</p> + +<p>"Well, as for me," said Stedman, "I'm afraid to go near that cable. It's +like playing with a live wire. My nervous system won't stand many more +such shocks as those they gave us this morning."</p> + +<p>Gordon threw himself down dejectedly in a chair in the office, and +Stedman approached his instrument gingerly, as though it might explode.</p> + +<p>"He's swearing again," he explained sadly, in answer to Gordon's look of +inquiry. "He wants to know when I am going to stop running away from the +wire. He has a stack of messages to send, he says, but I guess he'd +better wait and take your copy first; don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," said Gordon. "I don't want any more messages than I've had. +That's the best I can do," he said, as he threw his manuscript down +beside Stedman. "And they can keep on cabling until the wire burns red +hot, and they won't get any more."</p> + +<p>There was silence in the office for some time, while Stedman looked over +Gordon's copy, and Gordon stared dejectedly out at the ocean.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a>"This is pretty poor stuff, Gordon," said Stedman. "It's like giving +people milk when they want brandy."</p> + +<p>"Don't you suppose I know that?" growled Gordon. "It's the best I can +do, isn't it? It's not my fault that we are not all dead now. I can't +massacre foreign residents if there are no foreign residents, but I can +commit suicide though, and I'll do it if something don't happen."</p> + +<p>There was a long pause, in which the silence of the office was only +broken by the sound of the waves beating on the coral reefs outside. +Stedman raised his head wearily.</p> + +<p>"He's swearing again," he said; "he says this stuff of yours is all +nonsense. He says stock in the Y.C.C. has gone up to one hundred and +two, and that owners are unloading and making their fortunes, and that +this sort of descriptive writing is not what the company want."</p> + +<p>"What's he think I'm here for?" cried Gordon. "Does he think I pulled +down the German flag and risked my neck half a dozen times and had +myself made King just to boom his Yokohama cable stock? Confound him! +You might at least swear back. Tell <a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a>him just what the situation is in a +few words. Here, stop that rigmarole to the paper, and explain to your +home office that we are awaiting developments, and that, in the +meanwhile, they must put up with the best we can send them. Wait; send +this to Octavia."</p> + +<p>Gordon wrote rapidly, and read what he wrote as rapidly as it was +written.</p> + +<p>"Operator, Octavia. You seem to have misunderstood my first message. The +facts in the case are these. A German man-of-war raised a flag on this +island. It was pulled down and the American flag raised in its place and +saluted by a brass cannon. The German man-of-war fired once at the flag +and knocked it down, and then steamed away and has not been seen since. +Two huts were upset, that is all the damage done; the battery consisted +of the one brass cannon before mentioned. No one, either native or +foreign, has been massacred. The English residents are two sailors. The +American residents are the young man who is sending you this cable and +myself. Our first message was quite true in substance, but perhaps +misleading in detail. I made it so because I fully expected <a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a>much more +to happen immediately. Nothing has happened, or seems likely to happen, +and that is the exact situation up to date. Albert Gordon."</p> + +<p>"Now," he asked after a pause, "what does he say to that?"</p> + +<p>"He doesn't say anything," said Stedman.</p> + +<p>"I guess he has fainted. Here it comes," he added in the same breath. He +bent toward his instrument, and Gordon raised himself from his chair and +stood beside him as he read it off. The two young men hardly breathed in +the intensity of their interest.</p> + +<p>"Dear Stedman," he slowly read aloud. "You and your young friend are a +couple of fools. If you had allowed me to send you the messages awaiting +transmission here to you, you would not have sent me such a confession +of guilt as you have just done. You had better leave Opeki at once or +hide in the hills. I am afraid I have placed you in a somewhat +compromising position with the company, which is unfortunate, especially +as, if I am not mistaken, they owe you some back pay. You should have +been wiser in your day, and bought Y.C.C. stock when it was down to five +cents, <a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a>as 'yours truly' did. You are not, Stedman, as bright a boy as +some. And as for your friend, the war correspondent, he has queered +himself for life. You see, my dear Stedman, after I had sent off your +first message, and demands for further details came pouring in, and I +could not get you at the wire to supply them, I took the liberty of +sending some on myself."</p> + +<p>"Great Heavens!" gasped Gordon.</p> + +<p>Stedman grew very white under his tan, and the perspiration rolled on +his cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Your message was so general in its nature, that it allowed my +imagination full play, and I sent on what I thought would please the +papers, and, what was much more important to me, would advertise the +Y.C.C. stock. This I have been doing while waiting for material from +you. Not having a clear idea of the dimensions or population of Opeki, +it is possible that I have done you and your newspaper friend some +injustice. I killed off about a hundred American residents, two hundred +English, because I do not like the English, and a hundred French. I blew +up old Ollypybus and his palace with dynamite, and shelled the city, +destroying some hundred thousand dol<a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a>lars' worth of property, and then I +waited anxiously for your friend to substantiate what I had said. This +he has most unkindly failed to do. I am very sorry, but much more so for +him than for myself, for I, my dear friend, have cabled on to a man in +San Francisco, who is one of the directors of the Y.C.C, to sell all my +stock, which he has done at one hundred and two, and he is keeping the +money until I come. And I leave Octavia this afternoon to reap my just +reward. I am in about twenty thousand dollars on your little war, and I +feel grateful. So much so that I will inform you that the ship of war +<i>Kaiser</i> has arrived at San Francisco, for which port she sailed +directly from Opeki. Her captain has explained the real situation, and +offered to make every amend for the accidental indignity shown to our +flag. He says he aimed at the cannon, which was trained on his vessel, +and which had first fired on him. But you must know, my dear Stedman, +that before his arrival, war vessels belonging to the several powers +mentioned in my revised dispatches, had started for Opeki at full speed, +to revenge the butchery of the foreign residents. A word, my dear young +friend, to the wise is sufficient. I am indebted <a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a>to you to the extent +of twenty thousand dollars, and in return I give you this kindly advice. +Leave Opeki. If there is no other way, swim. But leave Opeki."</p> + +<p>The sun, that night, as it sank below the line where the clouds seemed +to touch the sea, merged them both into a blazing, blood-red curtain, +and colored the most wonderful spectacle that the natives of Opeki had +ever seen. Six great ships of war, stretching out over a league of sea, +stood blackly out against the red background, rolling and rising, and +leaping forward, flinging back smoke and burning sparks up into the air +behind them, and throbbing and panting like living creatures in their +race for revenge. From the south, came a three-decked vessel, a great +island of floating steel, with a flag as red as the angry sky behind it, +snapping in the wind. To the south of it plunged two long low-lying +torpedo boats, flying the French tri-color, and still further to the +north towered three magnificent hulls of the White Squadron. Vengeance +was written on every curve and line, on each straining engine rod, and +on each polished gun muzzle.</p> + +<p>And in front of these, a clumsy fishing boat <a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a>rose and fell on each +passing wave. Two sailors sat in the stern, holding the rope and tiller, +and in the bow, with their backs turned forever toward Opeki, stood two +young boys, their faces lit by the glow of the setting sun and stirred +by the sight of the great engines of war plunging past them on their +errand of vengeance.</p> + +<p>"Stedman," said the elder boy, in an awestruck whisper, and with a wave +of his hand, "we have not lived in vain."<br /><br /><br /></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a></p><p><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a></p> +<h3><a name="BOOKS_BY_RICHARD_HARDING_DAVIS" id="BOOKS_BY_RICHARD_HARDING_DAVIS"></a>BOOKS BY RICHARD HARDING DAVIS.</h3> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>GALLEGHER,</h2> + +<h3>AND OTHER STORIES.</h3> + +<h4>BY</h4> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Richard Harding Davis</span>.</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class='center'><b>12mo. Cloth, $1.00; Paper, 50 cents.</b></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As pictures of human life in a great city, these ten stories are simply +unique.—<i>Newark Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>New York has a new meaning to his readers, as London has a new meaning +to the reader of Dickens.—<i>N.Y. Commercial Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>Mr. Davis is a writer of unquestioned genius. His sketches of city life +in the poorer districts have a force which makes them exceptionally +vivid and inspiring.—<i>Albany Express.</i></p> + +<p>Ten remarkable newspaper and magazine stories. They will make capital +winter reading, and the book is one that will find a welcome +everywhere.—<i>N.Y. Journal of Commerce.</i></p> + +<p>The freshness, the strength, and the vivid picturesqueness of the +stories are indisputable, and their originality and their marked +distinction are no less decided.—<i>Boston Saturday Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>His figures stand forth clear cut, and marvellously truthful and +lifelike. Their wholesome tone is in grateful contrast to the false and +exaggerated note so often struck by young authors,—<i>Philadelphia +Ledger.</i></p> + +<p><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>STORIES FOR BOYS.</h3> + +<h4>BY</h4> + +<h4>RICHARD HARDING DAVIS.</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>WITH SIX FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class='center'><b>12mo. Cloth, $1.00.</b></p> + +<p>Of intense interest. It will be very popular with all boys.—<i>Detroit +Tribune</i>.</p> + +<p>Crisp in style, and animated in incident. For a wholesome, hearty boy, +we can fancy no more entertaining volume.—<i>Newark Advertiser</i>.</p> + +<p>It will be astonishing, indeed, if youths of all ages are not fascinated +with these stories. Mr. Davis knows infallibly what will interest his +readers.—<i>Boston Beacon</i>.</p> + +<p>They are of manly sport and adventure, and, while of absorbing interest +to any boy, will at the same time inspire him with manliness, high +ideals, and courage.—<i>Boston Times</i>.</p> + +<p>There is the same keen sense of humor that is always present in his +writings, and the spirit of enthusiasm which will appeal to boys who +have a love of adventure and are interested in out-door +sports.—<i>Christian Inquirer</i>.</p> + +<p>All of them have genuine interest of plot, a hearty, breezy spirit of +youth and adventuresomeness which will captivate the special audience +they are addressed to, and will also charm older people.—<i>Hartford +Courant</i>.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS,</p> + +<p>743-745 Broadway, New York.</p><p><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cinderella, by Richard Harding Davis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CINDERELLA *** + +***** This file should be named 16310-h.htm or 16310-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/3/1/16310/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Janet Blenkinship, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/16310-h/images/cover.png b/16310-h/images/cover.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..71a0406 --- /dev/null +++ b/16310-h/images/cover.png diff --git a/16310-h/images/frontis.png b/16310-h/images/frontis.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e49e086 --- /dev/null +++ b/16310-h/images/frontis.png diff --git a/16310.txt b/16310.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..123b05e --- /dev/null +++ b/16310.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4722 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cinderella, by Richard Harding Davis + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cinderella + And Other Stories + +Author: Richard Harding Davis + +Release Date: July 16, 2005 [EBook #16310] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CINDERELLA *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Janet Blenkinship, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "He looked beyond, through the dying fire, into the +succeeding years."] + +CINDERELLA + +AND OTHER STORIES + + +BY + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS + + +NEW YORK + +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +1896 + +_Copyright, 1896,_ + +By Charles Scribner's Sons. + + + +*** _The stories in this volume have appeared in Scribner's Magazine, +Harper's Magazine, Weekly, and Young People; and "The Reporter who Made +Himself King" also in a volume, the rest of which, however, addressed +itself to younger readers._ + + +University Press: + +JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + Page +Cinderella 1 +Miss Delamar's Understudy 36 +The Editor's Story 76 +An Assisted Emigrant 105 +The Reporter who Made Himself King 119 + + + + +CINDERELLA + + +The servants of the Hotel Salisbury, which is so called because it is +situated on Broadway and conducted on the American plan by a man named +Riggs, had agreed upon a date for their annual ball and volunteer +concert, and had announced that it would eclipse every other annual ball +in the history of the hotel. As the Hotel Salisbury had been only two +years in existence, this was not an idle boast, and it had the effect of +inducing many people to buy the tickets, which sold at a dollar apiece, +and were good for "one gent and a lady," and entitled the bearer to a +hat-check without extra charge. + +In the flutter of preparation all ranks were temporarily levelled, and +social barriers taken down with the mutual consent of those separated by +them; the night-clerk so far unbent as to personally request the colored +hall-boy Number Eight to play a banjo solo at the concert, which was to +fill in the pauses between the dances, and the chambermaids timidly +consulted with the lady telegraph operator and the lady in charge of the +telephone, as to whether or not they intended to wear hats. + +And so every employee on every floor of the hotel was working +individually for the success of the ball, from the engineers in charge +of the electric light plant in the cellar, to the night-watchman on the +ninth story, and the elevator-boys who belonged to no floor in +particular. + +Miss Celestine Terrell, who was Mrs. Grahame West in private life, and +young Grahame West, who played the part opposite to hers in the Gilbert +and Sullivan Opera that was then in the third month of its New York run, +were among the honored patrons of the Hotel Salisbury. Miss Terrell, in +her utter inability to adjust the American coinage to English standards, +and also in the kindness of her heart, had given too generous tips to +all of the hotel waiters, and some of this money had passed into the +gallery window of the Broadway Theatre, where the hotel waiters had +heard her sing and seen her dance, and had failed to recognize her +young husband in the Lord Chancellor's wig and black silk court dress. +So they knew that she was a celebrated personage, and they urged the +_maitre d'hotel_ to invite her to the ball, and then persuade her to +take a part in their volunteer concert. + +Paul, the head-waiter, or "Pierrot," as Grahame West called him, because +it was shorter, as he explained, hovered over the two young English +people one night at supper, and served them lavishly with his own hands. + +"Miss Terrell," said Paul, nervously,--"I beg pardon, Madam, Mrs. +Grahame West, I should say,--I would like to make an invitation to you." + +Celestine looked at her husband inquiringly, and bowed her head for Paul +to continue. + +"The employees of the Salisbury give the annual ball and concert on the +sixteenth of December, and the committee have inquired and requested of +me, on account of your kindness, to ask you would you be so polite as to +sing a little song for us at the night of our ball?" + +The head-waiter drew a long breath and straightened himself with a +sense of relief at having done his part, whether the Grahame Wests did +theirs or not. + +As a rule, Miss Terrell did not sing in private, and had only broken +this rule twice, when the inducements which led her to do so were forty +pounds for each performance, and the fact that her beloved Princess of +Wales was to be present. So she hesitated for an instant. + +"Why, you are very good," she said, doubtfully. "Will there be any other +people there,--any one not an employee, I mean?" + +Paul misunderstood her and became a servant again. + +"No, I am afraid there will be only the employees, Madam," he said. + +"Oh, then, I should be very glad to come," murmured Celestine, sweetly. +"But I never sing out of the theatre, so you mustn't mind if it is not +good." + +The head-waiter played a violent tattoo on the back of the chair in his +delight, and balanced and bowed. + +"Ah, we are very proud and pleased that we can induce Madam to make so +great exceptions," he declared. "The committee will be most happy. We +will send a carriage for Madam, and a bouquet for Madam also," he added +grandly, as one who was not to be denied the etiquette to which he +plainly showed he was used. + + * * * * * + +"Will we come?" cried Van Bibber, incredulously, as he and Travers sat +watching Grahame make up in his dressing-room. "I should say we would +come. And you must all take supper with us first, and we will get Letty +Chamberlain from the Gaiety Company and Lester to come too, and make +them each do a turn." + +"And we can dance on the floor ourselves, can't we?" asked Grahame West, +"as they do at home Christmas-eve in the servants' hall, when her +ladyship dances in the same set with the butler and the men waltz with +the cook." + +"Well, over here," said Van Bibber, "you'll have to be careful that +you're properly presented to the cook first, or she'll appeal to the +floor committee and have you thrown out." + +"The interesting thing about that ball," said Travers, as he and Van +Bibber walked home that night, "is the fact that those hotel people are +getting a galaxy of stars to amuse them for nothing who wouldn't exhibit +themselves at a Fifth Avenue dance for all the money in Wall Street. And +the joke of it is going to be that the servants will vastly prefer the +banjo solo by hall-boy Number Eight." + +Lyric Hall lies just this side of the Forty-second Street station along +the line of the Sixth Avenue Elevated road, and you can look into its +windows from the passing train. It was after one o'clock when the +invited guests and their friends pushed open the storm-doors and were +recognized by the anxious committee-men who were taking tickets at the +top of the stairs. The committee-men fled in different directions, +shouting for Mr. Paul, and Mr. Paul arrived beaming with delight and +moisture, and presented a huge bouquet to Mrs. West, and welcomed her +friends with hospitable warmth. + +Mrs. West and Miss Chamberlain took off their hats and the men gave up +their coats, not without misgivings, to a sleepy young man who said +pleasantly, as he dragged them into the coat-room window, "that they +would be playing in great luck if they ever saw them again." + +"I don't need to give you no checks," he explained: "just ask for the +coats with real fur on 'em. Nobody else has any." + +There was a balcony overhanging the floor, and the invited guests were +escorted to it, and given seats where they could look down upon the +dancers below, and the committee-men, in dangling badges with edges of +silver fringe, stood behind their chairs and poured out champagne for +them lavishly, and tore up the wine-check which the barkeeper brought +with it, with princely hospitality. + +The entrance of the invited guests created but small interest, and +neither the beauty of the two English girls nor Lester's well-known +features, which smiled from shop-windows and on every ash-barrel in the +New York streets, aroused any particular comment. The employees were +much more occupied with the Lancers then in progress, and with the +joyful actions of one of their number who was playing blind-man's-buff +with himself, and swaying from set to set in search of his partner, who +had given him up as hopeless and retired to the supper-room for crackers +and beer. + +Some of the ladies wore bonnets, and others wore flowers in their hair, +and a half-dozen were in gowns which were obviously intended for dancing +and nothing else. But none of them were in _decollete_ gowns. A few wore +gloves. They had copied the fashions of their richer sisters with the +intuitive taste of the American girl of their class, and they waltzed +quite as well as the ladies whose dresses they copied, and many of them +were exceedingly pretty. The costumes of the gentlemen varied from the +clothes they wore nightly when waiting on the table, to cutaway coats +with white satin ties, and the regular blue and brass-buttoned uniform +of the hotel. + +"I am going to dance," said Van Bibber, "if Mr. Pierrot will present me +to one of the ladies." + +Paul introduced him to a lady in a white cheese-cloth dress and black +walking-shoes, with whom no one else would dance, and the musicians +struck up "The Band Played On," and they launched out upon a slippery +floor. + +Van Bibber was conscious that his friends were applauding him in dumb +show from the balcony, and when his partner asked who they were, he +repudiated them altogether, and said he could not imagine, but that he +guessed from their bad manners they were professional entertainers hired +for the evening. + +The music stopped abruptly, and as he saw Mrs. West leaving the balcony, +he knew that his turn had come, and as she passed him he applauded her +vociferously, and as no one else applauded even slightly, she grew very +red. + +Her friends knew that they formed the audience which she dreaded, and +she knew that they were rejoicing in her embarrassment, which the head +of the downstairs department, as Mr. Paul described him, increased to an +hysterical point by introducing her as "Miss Ellen Terry, the great +English actress, who would now oblige with a song." + +The man had seen the name of the wonderful English actress on the +bill-boards in front of Abbey's Theatre, and he had been told that Miss +Terrell was English, and confused the two names. As he passed Van +Bibber he drew his waistcoat into shape with a proud shrug of his +shoulders, and said, anxiously, "I gave your friend a good introduction, +anyway, didn't I?" + +"You did, indeed," Van Bibber answered. "You couldn't have surprised her +more; and it made a great hit with me, too." + +No one in the room listened to the singing. The gentlemen had crossed +their legs comfortably and were expressing their regret to their +partners that so much time was wasted in sandwiching songs between the +waltzes, and the ladies were engaged in criticizing Celestine's hair, +which she wore in a bun. They thought that it might be English, but it +certainly was not their idea of good style. + +Celestine was conscious of the fact that her husband and Lester were +hanging far over the balcony, holding their hands to their eyes as +though they were opera-glasses, and exclaiming with admiration and +delight; and when she had finished the first verse, they pretended to +think that the song was over, and shouted, "Bravo, encore," and +applauded frantically, and then apparently overcome with confusion at +their mistake, sank back entirely from sight. + +"I think Miss Terrell's an elegant singer," Van Bibber's partner said to +him. "I seen her at the hotel frequently. She has such a pleasant way +with her, quite lady-like. She's the only actress I ever saw that has +retained her timidity. She acts as though she were shy, don't she?" + +Van Bibber, who had spent a month on the Thames the summer before, with +the Grahame Wests, surveyed Celestine with sudden interest, as though he +had never seen her before until that moment, and agreed that she did +look shy, one might almost say frightened to death. Mrs. West rushed +through the second verse of the song, bowed breathlessly, and ran down +the steps of the stage and back to the refuge of the balcony, while the +audience applauded with perfunctory politeness and called clamorously to +the musicians to "Let her go!" + +"And that is the song," commented Van Bibber, "that gets six encores and +three calls every night on Broadway!" + +Grahame West affected to be greatly chagrined at his wife's failure to +charm the chambermaids and porters with her little love-song, and when +his turn came, he left them with alacrity, assuring them that they would +now see the difference, as he would sing a song better suited to their +level. + +But the song that had charmed London and captured the unprotected coast +town of New York, fell on heedless ears; and except the evil ones in the +gallery, no one laughed and no one listened, and Lester declared with +tears in his eyes that he would not go through such an ordeal for the +receipts of an Actors' Fund Benefit. + +Van Bibber's partner caught him laughing at Grahame West's vain efforts +to amuse, and said, tolerantly, that Mr. West was certainly comical, but +that she had a lady friend with her who could recite pieces which were +that comic that you'd die of laughing. She presented her friend to Van +Bibber, and he said he hoped that they were going to hear her recite, as +laughing must be a pleasant death. But the young lady explained that she +had had the misfortune to lose her only brother that summer, and that +she had given up everything but dancing in consequence. She said she did +not think it looked right to see a girl in mourning recite comic +monologues. + +Van Bibber struggled to be sympathetic, and asked what her brother had +died of? She told him that "he died of a Thursday," and the conversation +came to an embarrassing pause. + +Van Bibber's partner had another friend in a gray corduroy waistcoat and +tan shoes, who was of Hebraic appearance. He also wore several very fine +rings, and officiated with what was certainly religious tolerance at the +M.E. Bethel Church. She said he was an elegant or--gan--ist, putting the +emphasis on the second syllable, which made Van Bibber think that she +was speaking of some religious body to which he belonged. But the +organist made his profession clear by explaining that the committee had +just invited him to oblige the company with a solo on the piano, but +that he had been hitting the champagne so hard that he doubted if he +could tell the keys from the pedals, and he added that if they'd excuse +him he would go to sleep, which he immediately did with his head on the +shoulder of the lady recitationist, who tactfully tried not to notice +that he was there. + +They were all waltzing again, and as Van Bibber guided his partner for +a second time around the room, he noticed a particularly handsome girl +in a walking-dress, who was doing some sort of a fancy step with a +solemn, grave-faced young man in the hotel livery. They seemed by their +manner to know each other very well, and they had apparently practised +the step that they were doing often before. + +The girl was much taller than the man, and was superior to him in every +way. Her movements were freer and less conscious, and she carried her +head and shoulders as though she had never bent them above a broom. Her +complexion was soft and her hair of the finest, deepest auburn. Among +all the girls upon the floor she was the most remarkable, even if her +dancing had not immediately distinguished her. + +The step which she and her partner were exhibiting was one that probably +had been taught her by a professor of dancing at some East Side academy, +at the rate of fifty cents per hour, and which she no doubt believed was +the latest step danced in the gilded halls of the Few Hundred. In this +waltz the two dancers held each other's hands, and the man swung his +partner behind him, and then would turn and take up the step with her +where they had dropped it; or they swung around and around each other +several times, as people do in fancy skating, and sometimes he spun her +so quickly one way that the skirt of her walking-dress was wound as +tightly around her legs and ankles as a cord around a top, and then as +he swung her in the opposite direction, it unwound again, and wrapped +about her from the other side. They varied this when it pleased them +with balancings and steps and posturings that were not sufficiently +extravagant to bring any comment from the other dancers, but which were +so full of grace and feeling for time and rhythm, that Van Bibber +continually reversed his partner so that he might not for an instant +lose sight of the girl with auburn hair. + +"She is a very remarkable dancer," he said at last, apologetically. "Do +you know who she is?" + +His partner had observed his interest with increasing disapproval, and +she smiled triumphantly now at the chance that his question gave her. + +"She is the seventh floor chambermaid," she said. "I," she added in a +tone which marked the social superiority, "am a checker and marker." + +"Really?" said Van Bibber, with a polite accent of proper awe. + +He decided that he must see more of this Cinderella of the Hotel +Salisbury; and dropping his partner by the side of the lady +recitationist, he bowed his thanks and hurried to the gallery for a +better view. + +When he reached it he found his professional friends hanging over the +railing, watching every movement which the girl made with an intense and +unaffected interest. + +"Have you noticed that girl with red hair?" he asked, as he pulled up a +chair beside them. + +But they only nodded and kept their eyes fastened on the opening in the +crowd through which she had disappeared. + +"There she is," Grahame West cried excitedly, as the girl swept out from +the mass of dancers into the clear space. "Now you can see what I mean, +Celestine," he said. "Where he turns her like that. We could do it in +the shadow-dance in the second act. It's very pretty. She lets go his +right hand and then he swings her and balances backward until she takes +up the step again, when she faces him. It is very simple and very +effective. Isn't it, George?" + +Lester nodded and said, "Yes, very. She's a born dancer. You can teach +people steps, but you can't teach them to be graceful." + +"She reminds me of Sylvia Grey," said Miss Chamberlain. "There's nothing +violent about it, or faked, is there? It's just the poetry of motion, +without any tricks." + +Lester, who was a trick dancer himself, and Grahame West, who was one of +the best eccentric dancers in England, assented to this cheerfully. + +Van Bibber listened to the comments of the authorities and smiled +grimly. The contrast which their lives presented to that of the young +girl whom they praised so highly, struck him as being most interesting. +Here were two men who had made comic dances a profound and serious +study, and the two women who had lifted dancing to the plane of a fine +art, all envying and complimenting a girl who was doing for her own +pleasure that which was to them hard work and a livelihood. But while +they were going back the next day to be applauded and petted and praised +by a friendly public, she was to fly like Cinderella, to take up her +sweeping and dusting and the making of beds, and the answering of +peremptory summonses from electric buttons. + +"A good teacher could make her worth one hundred dollars a week in six +lessons," said Lester, dispassionately. "I'd be willing to make her an +offer myself, if I hadn't too many dancers in the piece already." + +"A hundred dollars--that's twenty pounds," said Mrs. Grahame West. "You +do pay such prices over here! But I quite agree that she is very +graceful; and she is so unconscious, too, isn't she?" + +The interest in Cinderella ceased when the waltzing stopped, and the +attention of those in the gallery was riveted with equal intensity upon +Miss Chamberlain and Travers who had faced each other in a quadrille, +Miss Chamberlain having accepted the assistant barkeeper for a partner, +while Travers contented himself with a tall, elderly female, who in +business hours had entire charge of the linen department. The barkeeper +was a melancholy man with a dyed mustache, and when he asked the English +dancer from what hotel she came, and she, thinking he meant at what +hotel was she stopping, told him, he said that that was a slow place, +and that if she would let him know when she had her night off, he would +be pleased to meet her at the Twenty-third station of the Sixth Avenue +road on the uptown side, and would take her to the theatre, for which, +he explained, he was able to obtain tickets for nothing, as so many men +gave him their return checks for drinks. + +Miss Chamberlain told him in return, that she just doted on the theatre, +and promised to meet him the very next evening. She sent him anonymously +instead two seats in the front row for her performance. She had much +delight the next night in watching his countenance when, after arriving +somewhat late and cross, he recognized the radiant beauty on the stage +as the young person with whom he had condescended to dance. + +When the quadrille was over she introduced him to Travers, and Travers +told him he mixed drinks at the Knickerbocker Club, and that his +greatest work was a Van Bibber cocktail. And when the barkeeper asked +for the recipe and promised to "push it along," Travers told him he +never made it twice the same, as it depended entirely on his mood. + +Mrs. Grahame West and Lester were scandalized at the conduct of these +two young people and ordered the party home, and as the dance was +growing somewhat noisy and the gentlemen were smoking as they danced, +the invited guests made their bows to Mr. Paul and went out into cold, +silent streets, followed by the thanks and compliments of seven +bare-headed and swaying committee-men. + +The next week Lester went on the road with his comic opera company; the +Grahame Wests sailed to England, Letty Chamberlain and the other "Gee +Gees," as Travers called the Gayety Girls, departed for Chicago, and +Travers and Van Bibber were left alone. + + * * * * * + +The annual ball was a month in the past, when Van Bibber found Travers +at breakfast at their club, and dropped into a chair beside him with a +sigh of weariness and indecision. + +"What's the trouble? Have some breakfast?" said Travers, cheerfully. + +"Thank you, no," said Van Bibber, gazing at his friend doubtfully; "I +want to ask you what you think of this. Do you remember that girl at +that servants' ball?" + +"Which girl?--Tall girl with red hair--did fancy dance? Yes--why?" + +"Well, I've been thinking about her lately," said Van Bibber, "and what +they said of her dancing. It seems to me that if it's as good as they +thought it was, the girl ought to be told of it and encouraged. They +evidently meant what they said. It wasn't as though they were talking +about her to her relatives and had to say something pleasant. Lester +thought she could make a hundred dollars a week if she had had six +lessons. Well, six lessons wouldn't cost much, not more than ten dollars +at the most, and a hundred a week for an original outlay of ten is a +good investment." + +Travers nodded his head in assent, and whacked an egg viciously with his +spoon. "What's your scheme?" he said. "Is your idea to help the lady for +her own sake--sort of a philanthropic snap--or as a speculation? We +might make it pay as a speculation. You see nobody knows about her +except you and me. We might form her into a sort of stock company and +teach her to dance, and secure her engagements and then take our +commission out of her salary. Is that what you were thinking of doing?" + +"No, that was not my idea," said Van Bibber, smiling. "I hadn't any +plan. I just thought I'd go down to that hotel and tell her that in the +opinion of the four people best qualified to know what good dancing is, +she is a good dancer, and then leave the rest to her. She must have some +friends or relations who would help her to take a start. If it's true +that she can make a hit as a dancer, it seems a pity that she shouldn't +know it, doesn't it? If she succeeded, she'd make a pot of money, and if +she failed she'd be just where she is now." + +Travers considered this subject deeply, with knit brows. + +"That's so," he said. "I'll tell you what let's do. Let's go see some of +the managers of those continuous performance places, and tell them we +have a dark horse that the Grahame Wests and Letty Chamberlain herself +and George Lester think is the coming dancer of the age, and ask them to +give her a chance. And we'll make some sort of a contract with them. We +ought to fix it so that she is to get bigger money the longer they keep +her in the bill, have her salary on a rising scale. Come on," he +exclaimed, warming to the idea. "Let's go now. What have you got to do?" + +"I've got nothing better to do than just that," Van Bibber declared, +briskly. + +The managers whom they interviewed were interested but non-committal. +They agreed that the girl must be a remarkable dancer indeed to warrant +such praise from such authorities, but they wanted to see her and judge +for themselves, and they asked to be given her address, which the +impresarios refused to disclose. But they secured from the managers the +names of several men who taught fancy dancing, and who prepared +aspirants for the vaudeville stage, and having obtained from them their +prices and their opinion as to how long a time would be required to give +the finishing touches to a dancer already accomplished in the art, they +directed their steps to the Hotel Salisbury. + +"'From the Seventh Story to the Stage,'" said Travers. "She will make +very good newspaper paragraphs, won't she? 'The New American Dancer, +endorsed by Celestine Terrell, Letty Chamberlain, and Cortlandt Van +Bibber.' And we could get her outside engagements to dance at studios +and evening parties after her regular performance, couldn't we?" he +continued. "She ought to ask from fifty to a hundred dollars a night. +With her regular salary that would average about three hundred and fifty +a week. She is probably making three dollars a week now, and eats in the +servants' hall." + +"And then we will send her abroad," interrupted Van Bibber, taking up +the tale, "and she will do the music halls in London. If she plays three +halls a night, say one on the Surrey Side, and Islington, and a smart +West End hall like the Empire or the Alhambra, at fifteen guineas a +turn, that would bring her in five hundred and twenty-five dollars a +week. And then she would go to the Folies Bergere in Paris, and finally +to Petersburg and Milan, and then come back to dance in the Grand Opera +season, under Gus Harris, with a great international reputation, and +hung with flowers and medals and diamond sun-bursts and things." + +"Rather," said Travers, shaking his head enthusiastically. "And after +that we must invent a new dance for her, with colored lights and +mechanical snaps and things, and have it patented; and finally she will +get her picture on soda-cracker boxes and cigarette advertisements, and +have a race-horse named after her, and give testimonials for nerve +tonics and soap. Does fame reach farther than that?" + +"I think not," said Van Bibber, "unless they give her name to a new make +of bicycle. We must give her a new name, anyway, and rechristen her, +whatever her name may be. We'll call her Cinderella--La Cinderella. That +sounds fine, doesn't it, even if it is rather long for the very largest +type." + +"It isn't much longer than Carmencita," suggested the other. "And people +who have the proud knowledge of knowing her like you and me will call +her 'Cinders' for short. And when we read of her dancing before the Czar +of All the Russias, and leading the ballet at the Grand Opera House in +Paris, we'll say, 'that is our handiwork,' and we will feel that we have +not lived in vain." + + * * * * * + +"Seventh floor, please," said Van Bibber to the elevator boy. + +The elevator boy was a young man of serious demeanor, with a +smooth-shaven face and a square, determined jaw. There was something +about him which seemed familiar, but Van Bibber could not determine just +what it was. The elevator stopped to allow some people to leave it at +the second floor, and as the young man shoved the door to again, Van +Bibber asked him if he happened to know of a chambermaid with red hair, +a tall girl on the seventh floor, a girl who danced very well. + +The wire rope of the elevator slipped less rapidly through the hands of +the young man who controlled it, and he turned and fixed his eyes with +sudden interest on Van Bibber's face, and scrutinized him and his +companion with serious consideration. + +"Yes, I know her--I know who you mean, anyway," he said. "Why?" + +"Why?" echoed Van Bibber, raising his eyes. "We wish to see her on a +matter of business. Can you tell me her name?" + +The elevator was running so slowly now that its movement upward was +barely perceptible. + +"Her name's Annie--Annie Crehan. Excuse me," said the young man, +doubtfully, "ain't you the young fellows who came to our ball with that +English lady, the one that sung?" + +"Yes," Van Bibber assented, pleasantly. "We were there. That's where +I've seen you before. You were there too, weren't you?" + +"Me and Annie was dancing together most all the evening. I seen all +youse watching her." + +"Of course," exclaimed Van Bibber. "I remember you now. Oh, then you +must know her quite well. Maybe you can help us. We want to put her on +the stage." + +The elevator came to a stop with an abrupt jerk, and the young man +shoved his hands behind him, and leaned back against one of the mirrors +in its side. + +"On the stage," he repeated. "Why?" + +Van Bibber smiled and shrugged his shoulders in some embarrassment at +this peremptory challenge. But there was nothing in the young man's tone +or manner that could give offence. He seemed much in earnest, and spoke +as though they must understand that he had some right to question. + +"Why? Because of her dancing. She is a very remarkable dancer. All of +those actors with us that night said so. You must know that yourself +better than any one else, since you can dance with her. She could make +quite a fortune as a dancer, and we have persuaded several managers to +promise to give her a trial. And if she needs money to pay for lessons, +or to buy the proper dresses and slippers and things, we are willing to +give it to her, or to lend it to her, if she would like that better." + +"Why?" repeated the young man, immovably. His manner was not +encouraging. + +"Why--what?" interrupted Travers, with growing impatience. + +"Why are you willing to give her money? You don't know her." + +Van Bibber looked at Travers, and Travers smiled in some annoyance. The +electric bell rang violently from different floors, but the young man +did not heed it. He had halted the elevator between two landings, and he +now seated himself on the velvet cushions and crossed one leg over the +other, as though for a protracted debate. Travers gazed about him in +humorous apprehension, as though alarmed at the position in which he +found himself, hung as it were between the earth and sky. + +"I swear I am an unarmed man," he said, in a whisper. + +"Our intentions are well meant, I assure you," said Van Bibber, with an +amused smile. "The girl is working ten hours a day for very little +money, isn't she? You know she is, when she could make a great deal of +money by working half as hard. We have some influence with theatrical +people, and we meant merely to put her in the way of bettering her +position, and to give her the chance to do something which she can do +better than many others, while almost any one, I take it, can sweep and +make beds. If she were properly managed, she could become a great +dancer, and delight thousands of people--add to the gayety of nations, +as it were. She's hardly doing that now, is she? Have you any +objections to that? What right have you to make objections, anyway?" + +The young man regarded the two young gentlemen before him with a dogged +countenance, but there was now in his eyes a look of helplessness and of +great disquietude. + +"We're engaged to be married, Annie and me," he said. "That's it." + +"Oh," exclaimed Van Bibber, "I beg your pardon. That's different. Well, +in that case, you can help us very much, if you wish. We leave it +entirely with you!" + +"I don't want that you should leave it with me," said the young man, +harshly. "I don't want to have nothing to do with it. Annie can speak +for herself. I knew it was coming to this," he said, leaning forward and +clasping his hands together, "or something like this. I've never felt +dead sure of Annie, never once. I always knew something would happen." + +"Why, nothing has happened," said Van Bibber, soothingly. "You would +both benefit by it. We would be as willing to help two as one. You would +both be better off." + +The young man raised his head and stared at Van Bibber reprovingly. + +"You know better than that," he said. "You know what I'd look like. Of +course she could make money as a dancer, I've known that for some time, +but she hasn't thought of it yet, and she'd never have thought of it +herself. But the question isn't me or what I want. It's Annie. Is she +going to be happier or not, that's the question. And I'm telling you +that she couldn't be any happier than she is now. I know that, too. +We're just as contented as two folks ever was. We've been saving for +three months, and buying furniture from the instalment people, and next +month we were going to move into a flat on Seventh Avenue, quite handy +to the hotel. If she goes onto the stage could she be any happier? And +if you're honest in saying you're thinking of the two of us--I ask you +where would I come in? I'll be pulling this wire rope and she'll be all +over the country, and her friends won't be my friends and her ways won't +be my ways. She'll get out of reach of me in a week, and I won't be in +it. I'm not the sort to go loafing round while my wife supports me, +carrying her satchel for her. And there's nothing I can do but just +this. She'd come back here some day and live in the front floor suite, +and I'd pull her up and down in this elevator. That's what will happen. +Here's what you two gentlemen are doing." The young man leaned forward +eagerly. "You're offering a change to two people that are as well off +now as they ever hope to be, and they're contented. We don't know +nothin' better. Now, are you dead sure that you're giving us something +better than what we've got? You can't make me any happier than I am, and +as far as Annie knows, up to now, she couldn't be better fixed, and no +one could care for her more. + +"My God! gentlemen," he cried, desperately, "think! She's all I've got. +There's lots of dancers, but she's not a dancer to me, she's just Annie. +I don't want her to delight the gayety of nations. I want her for +myself. Maybe I'm selfish, but I can't help that. She's mine, and you're +trying to take her away from me. Suppose she was your girl, and some one +was sneaking her away from you. You'd try to stop it, wouldn't you, if +she was all you had?" He stopped breathlessly and stared alternately +from one to the other of the young men before him. Their countenances +showed an expression of well-bred concern. + +"It's for you to judge," he went on, helplessly; "if you want to take +the responsibility, well and good, that's for you to say. I'm not +stopping you, but she's all I've got." + +The young man stopped, and there was a pause while he eyed them eagerly. +The elevator bell rang out again with vicious indignation. + +Travers struck at the toe of his boot with his stick and straightened +his shoulders. + +"I think you're extremely selfish, if you ask me," he said. + +The young man stood up quickly and took his elevator rope in both hands. +"All right," he said, quietly, "that settles it. I'll take you up to +Annie now, and you can arrange it with her. I'm not standing in her +way." + +"Hold on," protested Van Bibber and Travers in a breath. "Don't be in +such a hurry," growled Travers. + +The young man stood immovable, with his hands on the wire and looking +down on them, his face full of doubt and distress. + +"I don't want to stand in Annie's way," he repeated, as though to +himself. "I'll do whatever you say. I'll take you to the seventh floor +or I'll drop you to the street. It's up to you, gentlemen," he added, +helplessly, and turning his back to them threw his arm against the wall +of the elevator and buried his face upon it. + +There was an embarrassing pause, during which Van Bibber scowled at +himself in the mirror opposite as though to ask it what a man who looked +like that should do under such trying circumstances. + +He turned at last and stared at Travers. "'Where ignorance is bliss, +it's folly to be wise,'" he whispered, keeping his face toward his +friend. "What do you say? Personally I don't see myself in the part of +Providence. It's the case of the poor man and his one ewe lamb, isn't +it?" + +"We don't want his ewe lamb, do we?" growled Travers. "It's a case of +the dog in a manger, I say. I thought we were going to be fairy +godfathers to 'La Cinderella.'" + +"The lady seems to be supplied with a most determined godfather as it +is," returned Van Bibber. + +The elevator boy raised his face and stared at them with haggard eyes. + +"Well?" he begged. + +Van Bibber smiled upon him reassuringly, with a look partly of respect +and partly of pity. + +"You can drop us to the street," he said. + + + + +MISS DELAMAR'S UNDERSTUDY + + +A young man runs two chances of marrying the wrong woman. He marries her +because she is beautiful, and because he persuades himself that every +other lovable attribute must be associated with such beauty, or because +she is in love with him. If this latter is the case, she gives certain +values to what he thinks and to what he says which no other woman gives, +and so he observes to himself, "This is the woman who best understands +_me_." + +You can reverse this and say that young women run the same risks, but as +men are seldom beautiful, the first danger is eliminated. Women still +marry men, however, because they are loved by them, and in time the +woman grows to depend upon this love and to need it, and is not content +without it, and so she consents to marry the man for no other reason +than because he cares for her. For if a dog, even, runs up to you +wagging his tail and acting as though he were glad to see you, you pat +him on the head and say, "What a nice dog." You like him because he +likes you, and not because he belongs to a fine breed of animal and +could take blue ribbons at bench shows. + +This is the story of a young man who was in love with a beautiful woman, +and who allowed her beauty to compensate him for many other things. When +she failed to understand what he said to her he smiled and looked at her +and forgave her at once, and when she began to grow uninteresting, he +would take up his hat and go away, and so he never knew how very +uninteresting she might possibly be if she were given time enough in +which to demonstrate the fact. He never considered that, were he married +to her, he could not take up his hat and go away when she became +uninteresting, and that her remarks, which were not brilliant, could not +be smiled away either. They would rise up and greet him every morning, +and would be the last thing he would hear at night. + +Miss Delamar's beauty was so conspicuous that to pretend not to notice +it was more foolish than well-bred. You got along more easily and simply +by accepting it at once, and referring to it, and enjoying its effect +upon other people. To go out of one's way to talk of other things when +every one, even Miss Delamar herself, knew what must be uppermost in +your mind, always seemed as absurd as to strain a point in politeness, +and to pretend not to notice that a guest had upset his claret, or any +other embarrassing fact. For Miss Delamar's beauty was so distinctly +embarrassing that this was the only way to meet it,--to smile and pass +it over and to try, if possible, to get on to something else. It was on +account of this extraordinary quality in her appearance that every one +considered her beauty as something which transcended her private +ownership, and which belonged by right to the polite world at large, to +any one who could appreciate it properly, just as though it were a +sunset or a great work of art or of nature. And so, when she gave away +her photographs no one thought it meant anything more serious than a +recognition on her part of the fact that it would have been unkind and +selfish in her not to have shared the enjoyment of so much loveliness +with others. + +Consequently, when she sent one of her largest and most aggravatingly +beautiful photographs to young Stuart, it was no sign that she cared +especially for him. + +How much young Stuart cared for Miss Delamar, however, was an open +question, and a condition yet to be discovered. That he cared for some +one, and cared so much that his imagination had begun to picture the +awful joys and responsibilities of marriage, was only too well known to +himself, and was a state of mind already suspected by his friends. + +Stuart was a member of the New York bar, and the distinguished law firm +to which he belonged was very proud of its junior member, and treated +him with indulgence and affection, which was not unmixed with amusement. +For Stuart's legal knowledge had been gathered in many odd corners of +the globe, and was various and peculiar. It had been his pleasure to +study the laws by which men ruled other men in every condition of life, +and under every sun. The regulations of a new mining camp were fraught +with as great interest to him as the accumulated precedents of the +English Constitution, and he had investigated the rulings of the mixed +courts of Egypt and of the government of the little Dutch republic near +the Cape with as keen an effort to comprehend, as he had shown in +studying the laws of the American colonies and of the Commonwealth of +Massachusetts. + +But he was not always serious, and it sometimes happened that after he +had arrived at some queer little island where the native prince and the +English governor sat in judgment together, his interest in the +intricacies of their laws would give way to the more absorbing +occupation of chasing wild boar or shooting at tigers from the top of an +elephant. And so he was not only regarded as an authority on many forms +of government and of law, into which no one else had ever taken the +trouble to look, but his books on big game were eagerly read and his +articles in the magazines were earnestly discussed, whether they told of +the divorce laws of Dakota, and the legal rights of widows in Cambodia, +or the habits of the Mexican lion. + +Stuart loved his work better than he knew, but how well he loved Miss +Delamar neither he nor his friends could tell. She was the most +beautiful and lovely creature that he had ever seen, and of that only +was he certain. + +Stuart was sitting in the club one day when the conversation turned to +matrimony. He was among his own particular friends, the men before whom +he could speak seriously or foolishly without fear of being +misunderstood or of having what he said retold and spoiled in the +telling. There was Seldon, the actor, and Rives who painted pictures, +and young Sloane, who travelled for pleasure and adventure, and Weimer +who stayed at home and wrote for the reviews. They were all bachelors, +and very good friends, and jealously guarded their little circle from +the intrusion of either men or women. + +"Of course the chief objection to marriage," Stuart said--it was the +very day in which the picture had been sent to his rooms--"is the old +one that you can't tell anything about it until you are committed to it +forever. It is a very silly thing to discuss even, because there is no +way of bringing it about, but there really should be some sort of a +preliminary trial. As the man says in the play, 'you wouldn't buy a +watch without testing it first.' You don't buy a hat even without +putting it on, and finding out whether it is becoming or not, or whether +your peculiar style of ugliness can stand it. And yet men go gayly off +and get married, and make the most awful promises, and alter their whole +order of life and risk the happiness of some lovely creature on trust, +as it were, knowing absolutely nothing of the new conditions and +responsibilities of the life before them. Even a river pilot has to +serve an apprenticeship before he gets a license, and yet we are allowed +to take just as great risks, and only because we _want_ to take them. +It's awful, and it's all wrong." + +"Well, I don't see what one is going to do about it," commented young +Sloane, lightly, "except to get divorced. That road is always open." + +Sloane was starting the next morning for the Somali Country, in +Abyssinia, to shoot rhinoceros, and his interest in matrimony was in +consequence somewhat slight. + +"It isn't the fear of the responsibilities that keeps Stuart, nor any +one of us back," said Weimer, contemptuously. "It's because we're +selfish. That's the whole truth of the matter. We love our work, or our +pleasure, or to knock about the world, better than we do any particular +woman. When one of us comes to love the woman best, his conscience won't +trouble him long about the responsibilities of marrying her." + +"Not at all," said Stuart, "I am quite sincere; I maintain that there +should be a preliminary stage. Of course there can't be, and it's absurd +to think of it, but it would save a lot of unhappiness." + +"Well," said Seldon, dryly, "when you've invented a way to prevent +marriage from being a lottery, let me know, will you?" He stood up and +smiled nervously. "Any of you coming to see us to-night?" he asked. + +"That's so," exclaimed Weimer, "I forgot. It's the first night of 'A +Fool and His Money,' isn't it? Of course we're coming." + +"I told them to put a box away for you in case you wanted it," Seldon +continued. "Don't expect much. It's a silly piece, and I've a silly +part, and I'm very bad in it. You must come around to supper, and tell +me where I'm bad in it, and we will talk it over. You coming, Stuart?" + +"My dear old man," said Stuart, reproachfully. "Of course I am. I've had +my seats for the last three weeks. Do you suppose I could miss hearing +you mispronounce all the Hindostanee I've taught you?" + +"Well, good-night then," said the actor, waving his hand to his friends +as he moved away. "'We, who are about to die, salute you!'" + +"Good luck to you," said Sloane, holding up his glass. "To the Fool and +His Money," he laughed. He turned to the table again, and sounded the +bell for the waiter. "Now let's send him a telegram and wish him +success, and all sign it," he said, "and don't you fellows tell him that +I wasn't in front to-night. I've got to go to a dinner the Travellers' +Club are giving me." There was a protesting chorus of remonstrance. "Oh, +I don't like it any better than you do," said Sloane, "but I'll get away +early and join you before the play's over. No one in the Travellers' +Club, you see, has ever travelled farther from New York than London or +the Riviera, and so when a member starts for Abyssinia they give him a +dinner, and he has to take himself very seriously indeed, and cry with +Seldon, 'I who am about to die, salute you.' If that man there was any +use," he added, interrupting himself and pointing with his glass at +Stuart, "he'd pack up his things to-night and come with me." + +"Oh, don't urge him," remonstrated Weimer, who had travelled all over +the world in imagination, with the aid of globes and maps, but never had +got any farther from home than Montreal. "We can't spare Stuart. He has +to stop here and invent a preliminary marriage state, so that if he +finds he doesn't like a girl, he can leave her before it is too late." + +"You sail at seven, I believe, and from Hoboken, don't you?" asked +Stuart undisturbed. "If you'll start at eleven from the New York side, I +think I'll go with you, but I hate getting up early; and then you see--I +know what dangers lurk in Abyssinia, but who could tell what might not +happen to him in Hoboken?" + +When Stuart returned to his room, he found a large package set upright +in an armchair and enveloped by many wrappings; but the handwriting on +the outside told him at once from whom it came and what it might be, and +he pounced upon it eagerly and tore it from its covers. The photograph +was a very large one, and the likeness to the original so admirable that +the face seemed to smile and radiate with all the loveliness and beauty +of Miss Delamar herself. Stuart beamed upon it with genuine surprise and +pleasure, and exclaimed delightedly to himself. There was a living +quality about the picture which made him almost speak to it, and thank +Miss Delamar through it for the pleasure she had given him and the honor +she had bestowed. He was proud, flattered, and triumphant, and while he +walked about the room deciding where he would place it, and holding the +picture respectfully before him, he smiled upon it with grateful +satisfaction. + +He decided against his dressing-table as being too intimate a place for +it, and so carried the picture on from his bedroom to the dining-room +beyond, where he set it among his silver on the sideboard. But so +little of his time was spent in this room that he concluded he would +derive but little pleasure from it there, and so bore it back again into +his library, where there were many other photographs and portraits, and +where to other eyes than his own it would be less conspicuous. + +He tried it first in one place and then in another; but in each position +the picture predominated and asserted itself so markedly, that Stuart +gave up the idea of keeping it inconspicuous, and placed it prominently +over the fire-place, where it reigned supreme above every other object +in the room. It was not only the most conspicuous object there, but the +living quality which it possessed in so marked a degree, and which was +due to its naturalness of pose and the excellence of the likeness, made +it permeate the place like a presence and with the individuality of a +real person. Stuart observed this effect with amused interest, and noted +also that the photographs of other women had become commonplace in +comparison like lithographs in a shop window, and that the more +masculine accessories of a bachelor's apartment had grown suddenly +aggressive and out of keeping. The liquor case and the racks of arms +and of barbarous weapons which he had collected with such pride seemed +to have lost their former value and meaning, and he instinctively began +to gather up the mass of books and maps and photographs and pipes and +gloves which lay scattered upon the table, and to put them in their +proper place, or to shove them out of sight altogether. "If I'm to live +up to that picture," he thought, "I must see that George keeps this room +in better order--and I must stop wandering round here in my bath-robe." + +His mind continued on the picture while he was dressing, and he was so +absorbed in it and in analyzing the effect it had had upon him, that his +servant spoke twice before he heard him. + +"No," he answered, "I shall not dine here to-night." Dining at home was +with him a very simple affair, and a somewhat lonely one, and he avoided +it almost nightly by indulging himself in a more expensive fashion. + +But even as he spoke an idea came to Stuart which made him reconsider +his determination, and which struck him as so amusing, that he stopped +pulling at his tie and smiled delightedly at himself in the glass before +him. + +"Yes," he said, still smiling, "I will dine here to-night. Get me +anything in a hurry. You need not wait now; go get the dinner up as soon +as possible." + +The effect which the photograph of Miss Delamar had upon him, and the +transformation it had accomplished in his room, had been as great as +would have marked the presence there of the girl herself. While +considering this it had come to Stuart, like a flash of inspiration, +that here was a way by which he could test the responsibilities and +conditions of married life without compromising either himself, or the +girl to whom he would suppose himself to be married. + +"I will put that picture at the head of the table," he said, "and I will +play that it is she herself, her own, beautiful, lovely self, and I will +talk to her and exchange views with her, and make her answer me just as +she would were we actually married and settled." He looked at his watch +and found it was just seven o'clock. "I will begin now," he said, "and +I will keep up the delusion until midnight. To-night is the best time to +try the experiment because the picture is new now, and its influence +will be all the more real. In a few weeks it may have lost some of its +freshness and reality and will have become one of the fixtures in the +room." + +Stuart decided that under these new conditions it would be more pleasant +to dine at Delmonico's, and he was on the point of asking the Picture +what she thought of it, when he remembered that while it had been +possible for him to make a practice of dining at that place as a +bachelor, he could not now afford so expensive a luxury, and he decided +that he had better economize in that particular and go instead to one of +the table d'hote restaurants in the neighborhood. He regretted not +having thought of this sooner, for he did not care to dine at a table +d'hote in evening dress, as in some places it rendered him conspicuous. +So, sooner than have this happen he decided to dine at home, as he had +originally intended when he first thought of attempting this experiment, +and then conducted the picture into dinner and placed her in an +armchair facing him, with the candles full upon the face. + +"Now this is something like," he exclaimed, joyously. "I can't imagine +anything better than this. Here we are all to ourselves with no one to +bother us, with no chaperone, or chaperone's husband either, which is +generally worse. Why is it, my dear," he asked gayly, in a tone that he +considered affectionate and husbandly, "that the attractive chaperones +are always handicapped by such stupid husbands, and vice versa?" + +"If that is true," replied the Picture, or replied Stuart, rather, for +the picture, "I cannot be a very attractive chaperone." Stuart bowed +politely at this, and then considered the point it had raised as to +whether he had, in assuming both characters, the right to pay himself +compliments. He decided against himself in this particular instance, but +agreed that he was not responsible for anything the Picture might say, +so long as he sincerely and fairly tried to make it answer him as he +thought the original would do under like circumstances. From what he +knew of the original under other conditions, he decided that he could +give a very close imitation of her point of view. + +Stuart's interest in his dinner was so real that he found himself +neglecting his wife, and he had to pull himself up to his duty with a +sharp reproof. After smiling back at her for a moment or two until his +servant had again left them alone, he asked her to tell him what she had +been doing during the day. + +"Oh, nothing very important," said the Picture. "I went shopping in the +morning and--" + +Stuart stopped himself and considered this last remark doubtfully. "Now, +how do I know she would go shopping?" he asked himself. "People from +Harlem and women who like bargain counters, and who eat chocolate +meringue for lunch, and then stop in at a continuous performance, go +shopping. It must be the comic paper sort of wives who go about matching +shades and buying hooks and eyes. Yes, I must have made Miss Delamar's +understudy misrepresent her. I beg your pardon, my dear," he said aloud +to the Picture. "You did _not_ go shopping this morning. You probably +went to a woman's luncheon somewhere. Tell me about that." + +"Oh, yes, I went to lunch with the Antwerps," said the Picture, "and +they had that Russian woman there who is getting up subscriptions for +the Siberian prisoners. It's rather fine of her because it exiles her +from Russia. And she is a princess." + +"That's nothing," Stuart interrupted, "they're all princesses when you +see them on Broadway." + +"I beg your pardon," said the Picture. + +"It's of no consequence," said Stuart, apologetically, "it's a comic +song. I forgot you didn't like comic songs. Well--go on." + +"Oh, then I went to a tea, and then I stopped in to hear Madame Ruvier +read a paper on the Ethics of Ibsen, and she--" + +Stuart's voice had died away gradually, and he caught himself wondering +whether he had told George to lay in a fresh supply of cigars. "I beg +your pardon," he said, briskly, "I was listening, but I was just +wondering whether I had any cigars left. You were saying that you had +been at Madame Ruvier's, and--" + +"I am afraid that you were not interested," said the Picture. "Never +mind, it's my fault. Sometimes I think I ought to do things of more +interest, so that I should have something to talk to you about when you +come home." + +Stuart wondered at what hour he would come home now that he was married. +As a bachelor he had been in the habit of stopping on his way up town +from the law office at the club, or to take tea at the houses of the +different girls he liked. Of course he could not do that now as a +married man. He would instead have to limit his calls to married women, +as all the other married men of his acquaintance did. But at the moment +he could not think of any attractive married women who would like his +dropping in on them in such a familiar manner, and the other sort did +not as yet appeal to him. + +He seated himself in front of the coal-fire in the library, with the +Picture in a chair close beside him, and as he puffed pleasantly on his +cigar he thought how well this suited him, and how delightful it was to +find content in so simple and continuing a pleasure. He could almost +feel the pressure of his wife's hand as it lay in his own, as they sat +in silent sympathy looking into the friendly glow of the fire. + +There was a long pleasant pause. + +"They're giving Sloane a dinner to-night at the 'Travellers'," Stuart +said at last, "in honor of his going to Abyssinia." + +Stuart pondered for some short time as to what sort of a reply Miss +Delamar's understudy ought to make to this innocent remark. He recalled +the fact that on numerous occasions the original had shown not only a +lack of knowledge in far-away places, but what was more trying, a lack +of interest as well. For the moment he could not see her robbed of her +pretty environment and tramping through undiscovered countries at his +side. So the Picture's reply, when it came, was strictly in keeping with +several remarks which Miss Delamar herself had made to him in the past. + +"Yes," said the Picture, politely, "and where is Abyssinia--in India, +isn't it?" + +"No, not exactly," corrected Stuart, mildly; "you pass it on your way to +India, though, as you go through the Red Sea. Sloane is taking +Winchesters with him and a double express and a 'five fifty.' He wants +to test their penetration. I think myself that the express is the best, +but he says Selous and Chanler think very highly of the Winchester. I +don't know, I never shot a rhinoceros. The time I killed that elephant," +he went on, pointing at two tusks that stood with some assegais in a +corner, "I used an express, and I had to let go with both barrels. I +suppose, though, if I'd needed a third shot I'd have wished it was a +Winchester. He was charging the smoke, you see, and I couldn't get away +because I'd caught my foot--but I told you about that, didn't I?" Stuart +interrupted himself to ask politely. + +"Yes," said the Picture, cheerfully, "I remember it very well; it was +very foolish of you." + +Stuart straightened himself with a slightly injured air and avoided the +Picture's eye. He had been stopped midway in what was one of his +favorite stories, and it took a brief space of time for him to recover +himself, and to sink back again into the pleasant lethargy in which he +had been basking. + +"Still," he said, "I think the express is the better gun." + +"Oh, is an 'express' a gun?" exclaimed the Picture, with sudden +interest. "Of course, I might have known." + +Stuart turned in his chair and surveyed the Picture in some surprise. +"But, my dear girl," he remonstrated kindly, "why didn't you ask, if you +didn't know what I was talking about. What did you suppose it was?" + +"I didn't know," said the Picture, "I thought it was something to do +with his luggage. Abyssinia sounds so far away," she explained, smiling +sweetly. "You can't expect one to be interested in such queer places, +can you?" + +"No," Stuart answered, reluctantly, and looking steadily at the fire, "I +suppose not. But you see, my dear," he said, "I'd have gone with him, if +I hadn't married you, and so I am naturally interested in his outfit. +They wanted me to make a comparative study of the little +semi-independent states down there, and of how far the Italian +government allows them to rule themselves. That's what I was to have +done." + +But the Picture hastened to reassure him. "Oh, you mustn't think," she +exclaimed, quickly, "that I mean to keep you at home. I love to travel, +too. I want you to go on exploring places just as you've always done, +only now I will go with you. We might do the Cathedral towns, for +instance." + +"The what!" gasped Stuart, raising his head. "Oh, yes, of course," he +added, hurriedly, sinking back into his chair with a slightly bewildered +expression. "That would be very nice. Perhaps your mother would like to +go too; it's not a dangerous expedition, is it? I _was_ thinking of +taking you on a trip through the South Seas--but I suppose the Cathedral +towns are just as exciting. Or we might even penetrate as far into the +interior as the English lakes and read Wordsworth and Coleridge as we +go." + +Miss Delamar's understudy observed him closely for a moment, but he made +no sign, and so she turned her eyes again to the fire with a slightly +troubled look. She had not a strong sense of humor, but she was very +beautiful. + +Stuart's conscience troubled him for the next few moments, and he +endeavored to make up for his impatience of the moment before, by +telling the Picture how particularly well she was looking. + +"It seems almost selfish to keep it all to myself," he mused. + +"You don't mean," inquired the Picture, with tender anxiety, "that you +want any one else here, do you? I'm sure I could be content to spend +every evening like this. I've had enough of going out and talking to +people I don't care about. Two seasons," she added, with the superior +air of one who has put away childish things, "was quite enough of it for +me." + +"Well, I never took it as seriously as that," said Stuart, "but, of +course, I don't want any one else here to spoil our evening. It is +perfect." + +He assured himself that it _was_ perfect, but he wondered what was the +loyal thing for a married couple to do when the conversation came to a +dead stop. And did the conversation come to a stop because they +preferred to sit in silent sympathy and communion, or because they had +nothing interesting to talk about? Stuart doubted if silence was the +truest expression of the most perfect confidence and sympathy. He +generally found when he was interested, that either he or his companion +talked all the time. It was when he was bored that he sat silent. But it +was probably different with married people. Possibly they thought of +each other during these pauses, and of their own affairs and interests, +and then he asked himself how many interests could one fairly retain +with which the other had nothing to do? + +"I suppose," thought Stuart, "that I had better compromise and read +aloud. Should you like me to read aloud?" he asked, doubtfully. + +The Picture brightened perceptibly at this, and said that she thought +that would be charming. "We might make it quite instructive," she +suggested, entering eagerly into the idea. "We ought to agree to read so +many pages every night. Suppose we begin with Guizot's 'History of +France.' I have always meant to read that, the illustrations look so +interesting." + +"Yes, we might do that," assented Stuart, doubtfully. "It is in six +volumes, isn't it? Suppose now, instead," he suggested, with an +impartial air, "we begin that to-morrow night, and go this evening to +see Seldon's new play, 'The Fool and His Money.' It's not too late, and +he has saved a box for us, and Weimer and Rives and Sloane will be +there, and--" + +The Picture's beautiful face settled for just an instant in an +expression of disappointment. "Of course," she replied slowly, "if you +wish it. But I thought you said," she went on with a sweet smile, "that +this was perfect. Now you want to go out again. Isn't this better than a +hot theatre? You might put up with it for one evening, don't you think?" + +"Put up with it!" exclaimed Stuart, enthusiastically; "I could spend +every evening so. It was only a suggestion. It wasn't that I wanted to +go so much as that I thought Seldon might be a little hurt if I didn't. +But I can tell him you were not feeling very well, and that we will come +some other evening. He generally likes to have us there on the first +night, that's all. But he'll understand." + +"Oh," said the Picture, "if you put it in the light of a duty to your +friend, of course we will go." + +"Not at all," replied Stuart, heartily; "I will read something. I +should really prefer it. How would you like something of Browning's?" + +"Oh, I read all of Browning once," said the Picture, "I think I should +like something new." + +Stuart gasped at this, but said nothing, and began turning over the +books on the centre table. He selected one of the monthly magazines, and +choosing a story which neither of them had read, sat down comfortably in +front of the fire, and finished it without interruption and to the +satisfaction of the Picture and himself. The story had made the half +hour pass very pleasantly, and they both commented on it with interest. + +"I had an experience once myself something like that," said Stuart, with +a pleased smile of recollection; "it happened in Paris"--he began with +the deliberation of a man who is sure of his story--"and it turned out +in much the same way. It didn't begin in Paris; it really began while we +were crossing the English Channel to--" + +"Oh, you mean about the Russian who took you for some one else and had +you followed," said the Picture. "Yes, that was like it, except that in +your case nothing happened." + +Stuart took his cigar from between his lips and frowned severely at the +lighted end for some little time before he spoke. + +"My dear," he remonstrated, gently, "you mustn't tell me I've told you +all my old stories before. It isn't fair. Now that I'm married, you see, +I can't go about and have new experiences, and I've got to make use of +the old ones." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," exclaimed the Picture, remorsefully. "I didn't mean +to be rude. Please tell me about it. I should like to hear it again, +ever so much. I _should_ like to hear it again, really." + +"Nonsense," said Stuart, laughing and shaking his head. "I was only +joking; personally I hate people who tell long stories. That doesn't +matter. I was thinking of something else." + +He continued thinking of something else, which was, that though he had +been in jest when he spoke of having given up the chance of meeting +fresh experiences, he had nevertheless described a condition, and a +painfully true one. His real life seemed to have stopped, and he saw +himself in the future looking back and referring to it, as though it +were the career of an entirely different person, of a young man, with +quick sympathies which required satisfying, as any appetite requires +food. And he had an uncomfortable doubt that these many ever-ready +sympathies would rebel if fed on only one diet. + +The Picture did not interrupt him in his thoughts, and he let his mind +follow his eyes as they wandered over the objects above him on the +mantle-shelf. They all meant something from the past,--a busy, wholesome +past which had formed habits of thought and action, habits he could no +longer enjoy alone, and which, on the other hand, it was quite +impossible for him to share with any one else. He was no longer to be +alone. + +Stuart stirred uneasily in his chair and poked at the fire before him. + +"Do you remember the day you came to see me," said the Picture, +sentimentally, "and built the fire yourself and lighted some girl's +letters to make it burn?" + +"Yes," said Stuart, "that is, I _said_ that they were some girl's +letters. It made it more picturesque. I am afraid they were bills. I +should say I did remember it," he continued, enthusiastically. "You wore +a black dress and little red slippers with big black rosettes, and you +looked as beautiful as--as night--as a moonlight night." + +The Picture frowned slightly. + +"You are always telling me about how I looked," she complained; "can't +you remember any time when we were together without remembering what I +had on and how I appeared?" + +"I cannot," said Stuart, promptly. "I can recall lots of other things +besides, but I can't forget how you looked. You have a fashion of +emphasizing episodes in that way which is entirely your own. But, as I +say, I can remember something else. Do you remember, for instance, when +we went up to West Point on that yacht? Wasn't it a grand day, with the +autumn leaves on both sides of the Hudson, and the dress parade, and the +dance afterward at the hotel?" + +"Yes, I should think I did," said the Picture, smiling. "You spent all +your time examining cannon, and talking to the men about 'firing in +open order,' and left me all alone." + +"Left you all alone! I like that," laughed Stuart; "all alone with about +eighteen officers." + +"Well, but that was natural," returned the Picture. "They were men. It's +natural for a girl to talk to men, but why should a man want to talk to +men?" + +"Well, I know better than that now," said Stuart. + +He proceeded to show that he knew better by remaining silent for the +next half hour, during which time he continued to wonder whether this +effort to keep up a conversation was not radically wrong. He thought of +several things he might say, but he argued that it was an impossible +situation where a man had to make conversation with his own wife. + +The clock struck ten as he sat waiting, and he moved uneasily in his +chair. + +"What is it?" asked the Picture; "what makes you so restless?" + +Stuart regarded the Picture timidly for a moment before he spoke. "I was +just thinking," he said, doubtfully, "that we might run down after all, +and take a look in at the last act; it's not too late even now. They're +sure to run behind on the first night. And then," he urged, "we can go +around and see Seldon. You have never been behind the scenes, have you? +It's very interesting." + +"No, I have not, but if we do," remonstrated the Picture, pathetically, +"you _know_ all those men will come trooping home with us. You know they +will." + +"But that's very complimentary," said Stuart. "Why, I like my friends to +like my wife." + +"Yes, but you know how they stay when they get here," she answered; "I +don't believe they ever sleep. Don't you remember the last supper you +gave me before we were married, when Mrs. Starr and you all were +discussing Mr. Seldon's play? She didn't make a move to go until half +past two, and I was _that_ sleepy, I couldn't keep my eyes open." + +"Yes," said Stuart, "I remember. I'm sorry. I thought it was very +interesting. Seldon changed the whole second act on account of what she +said. Well, after this," he laughed with cheerful desperation, "I think +I shall make up for the part of a married man in a pair of slippers and +a dressing-gown, and then perhaps I won't be tempted to roam abroad at +night." + +"You must wear the gown they are going to give you at Oxford," said the +Picture, smiling placidly. "The one Aunt Lucy was telling me about. Why +do they give you a gown?" she asked. "It seems such an odd thing to do." + +"The gown comes with the degree, I believe," said Stuart. + +"But why do they give _you_ a degree?" persisted the Picture; "you never +studied at Oxford, did you?" + +Stuart moved slightly in his chair and shook his head. "I thought I told +you," he said, gently. "No, I never studied there. I wrote some books +on--things, and they liked them." + +"Oh, yes, I remember now, you did tell me," said the Picture; "and I +told Aunt Lucy about it, and said we would be in England during the +season, when you got your degree, and she said you must be awfully +clever to get it. You see--she does appreciate you, and you always +treat her so distantly." + +"Do I?" said Stuart; quietly; "I'm sorry." + +"Will you have your portrait painted in it?" asked the Picture. + +"In what?" + +"In the gown. You are not listening," said the Picture, reproachfully. +"You ought to. Aunt Lucy says it's a beautiful shade of red silk, and +very long. Is it?" + +"I don't know," said Stuart, he shook his head, and dropping his chin +into his hands, stared coldly down into the fire. He tried to persuade +himself that he had been vainglorious, and that he had given too much +weight to the honor which the University of Oxford would bestow upon +him; that he had taken the degree too seriously, and that the Picture's +view of it was the view of the rest of the world. But he could not +convince himself that he was entirely at fault. + +"Is it too late to begin on Guizot?" suggested his Picture, as an +alternative to his plan. "It sounds so improving." + +"Yes, it is much too late," answered Stuart, decidedly. "Besides, I +don't want to be improved. I want to be amused, or inspired, or +scolded. The chief good of friends is that they do one of these three +things, and a wife should do all three." + +"Which shall I do?" asked the Picture, smiling good-humoredly. + +Stuart looked at the beautiful face and at the reclining figure of the +woman to whom he was to turn for sympathy for the rest of his life, and +felt a cold shiver of terror, that passed as quickly as it came. He +reached out his hand and placed it on the arm of the chair where his +wife's hand should have been, and patted the place kindly. He would shut +his eyes to everything but that she was good and sweet and his wife. +Whatever else she lacked that her beauty had covered up and hidden, and +the want of which had lain unsuspected in their previous formal +intercourse, could not be mended now. He would settle his step to hers, +and eliminate all those interests from his life which were not hers as +well. He had chosen a beautiful idol, and not a companion, for a wife. +He had tried to warm his hands at the fire of a diamond. + +Stuart's eyes closed wearily as though to shut out the memories of the +past, or the foreknowledge of what the future was sure to be. His head +sank forward on his breast, and with his hand shading his eyes, he +looked beyond, through the dying fire, into the succeeding years. + + * * * * * + +The gay little French clock on the table sounded the hour of midnight +briskly, with a pert insistent clamor, and at the same instant a +boisterous and unruly knocking answered it from outside the library +door. + +Stuart rose uncertainly from his chair and surveyed the tiny clock face +with a startled expression of bewilderment and relief. + +"Stuart!" his friends called impatiently from the hall. "Stuart, let us +in!" and without waiting further for recognition a merry company of +gentlemen pushed their way noisily into the room. + +"Where the devil have you been?" demanded Weimer. "You don't deserve to +be spoken to at all after quitting us like that. But Seldon is so +good-natured," he went on, "that he sent us after you. It was a great +success, and he made a rattling good speech, and you missed the whole +thing; and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. We've asked half the +people in front to supper--two stray Englishmen, all the Wilton girls +and their governor, and the chap that wrote the play. And Seldon and his +brother Sam are coming as soon as they get their make-up off. Don't +stand there like that, but hurry. What have you been doing?" + +Stuart gave a nervous, anxious laugh. "Oh, don't ask me," he cried. "It +was awful. I've been trying an experiment, and I had to keep it up until +midnight, and--I'm so glad you fellows have come," he continued, halting +midway in his explanation. "I _was_ blue." + +"You've been asleep in front of the fire," said young Sloane, "and +you've been dreaming." + +"Perhaps," laughed Stuart, gayly, "perhaps. But I'm awake now in any +event. Sloane, old man," he cried, dropping both hands on the +youngster's shoulders. "How much money have you? Enough to take me to +Gibraltar? They can cable me the rest." + +"Hoorah!" shouted Sloane, waltzing from one end of the room to the +other. "And we're off to Ab-yss-in-ia in the morn-ing," he sang. +"There's plenty in my money belt," he cried, slapping his sides, "you +can hear the ten-pound notes crackle whenever I breathe, and it's all +yours, my dear boy, and welcome. And I'll prove to you that the +Winchester is the better gun." + +"All right," returned Stuart, gayly, "and I'll try to prove that the +Italians don't know how to govern a native state. But who is giving this +supper, anyway?" he demanded. "That is the main thing--that's what I +want to know." + +"You've got to pack, haven't you?" suggested Rives. + +"I'll pack when I get back," said Stuart, struggling into his greatcoat, +and searching in his pockets for his gloves. "Besides, my things are +always ready and there's plenty of time, the boat doesn't leave for six +hours yet." + +"We'll all come back and help," said Weimer. + +"Then I'll never get away," laughed Stuart. He was radiant, happy, and +excited, like a boy back from school for the holidays. But when they had +reached the pavement, he halted and ran his hand down into his pocket, +as though feeling for his latch-key, and stood looking doubtfully at his +friends. + +"What is it now?" asked Rives, impatiently. "Have you forgotten +something?" + +Stuart looked back at the front door in momentary indecision. + +"Y-es," he answered. "I did forget something. But it doesn't matter," he +added, cheerfully, taking Sloane's arm. + +"Come on," he said, "and so Seldon made a hit, did he? I am glad--and +tell me, old man, how long will we have to wait at Gib for the P. & O.?" + +Stuart's servant had heard the men trooping down the stairs, laughing +and calling to one another as they went, and judging from this that they +had departed for the night, he put out all the lights in the library and +closed the piano, and lifted the windows to clear the room of the +tobacco-smoke. He did not notice the beautiful photograph sitting +upright in the armchair before the fireplace, and so left it alone in +the deserted library. + +The cold night-air swept in through the open window and chilled the +silent room, and the dead coals in the grate dropped one by one into +the fender with a dismal echoing clatter; but the Picture still sat in +the armchair with the same graceful pose and the same lovely expression, +and smiled sweetly at the encircling darkness. + + + + +THE EDITOR'S STORY + + +It was a warm afternoon in the early spring, and the air in the office +was close and heavy. The letters of the morning had been answered and +the proofs corrected, and the gentlemen who had come with ideas worth +one column at space rates, and which they thought worth three, had +compromised with the editor on a basis of two, and departed. The +editor's desk was covered with manuscripts in a heap, a heap that never +seemed to grow less, and each manuscript bore a character of its own, as +marked or as unobtrusive as the character of the man or of the woman who +had written it, which disclosed itself in the care with which some were +presented for consideration, in the vain little ribbons of others, or +the selfish manner in which still others were tightly rolled or vilely +scribbled. + +The editor held the first page of a poem in his hand, and was reading it +mechanically, for its length had already declared against it, unless it +might chance to be the precious gem out of a thousand, which must be +chosen in spite of its twenty stanzas. But as the editor read, his +interest awakened, and he scanned the verses again, as one would turn to +look a second time at a face which seemed familiar. At the fourth stanza +his memory was still in doubt, at the sixth it was warming to the chase, +and at the end of the page was in full cry. He caught up the second page +and looked for the final verse, and then at the name below, and then +back again quickly to the title of the poem, and pushed aside the papers +on his desk in search of any note which might have accompanied it. + +The name signed at the bottom of the second page was Edwin Aram, the +title of the poem was "Bohemia," and there was no accompanying note, +only the name Berkeley written at the top of the first page. The +envelope in which it had come gave no further clew. It was addressed in +the same handwriting as that in which the poem had been written, and it +bore the post-mark of New York city. There was no request for the return +of the poem, no direction to which either the poem itself or the check +for its payment in the event of its acceptance might be sent. Berkeley +might be the name of an apartment-house or of a country place or of a +suburban town. + +The editor stepped out of his office into the larger room beyond and +said: "I've a poem here that appeared in an American magazine about +seven years ago. I remember the date because I read it when I was at +college. Some one is either trying to play a trick on us, or to get +money by stealing some other man's brains." + +It was in this way that Edwin Aram first introduced himself to our +office, and while his poem was not accepted, it was not returned. On the +contrary, Mr. Aram became to us one of the most interesting of our +would-be contributors, and there was no author, no matter of what +popularity, for whose work we waited with greater impatience. But Mr. +Aram's personality still remained as completely hidden from us as were +the productions which he offered from the sight of our subscribers. For +each of the poems he sent had been stolen outright and signed with his +name. + +It was through no fault of ours that he continued to blush unseen, or +that his pretty taste in poems was unappreciated by the general reader. +We followed up every clew and every hint he chose to give us with an +enthusiasm worthy of a search after a lost explorer, and with an animus +worthy of better game. Yet there was some reason for our interest. The +man who steals the work of another and who passes it off as his own is +the special foe of every editor, but this particular editor had a +personal distrust of Mr. Aram. He imagined that these poems might +possibly be a trap which some one had laid for him with the purpose of +drawing him into printing them, and then of pointing out by this fact +how little read he was, and how unfit to occupy the swivel-chair into +which he had so lately dropped. Or if this were not the case, the man +was in any event the enemy of all honest people, who look unkindly on +those who try to obtain money by false pretences. + +The evasions of Edwin Aram were many, and his methods to avoid detection +not without skill. His second poem was written on a sheet of note-paper +bearing the legend "The Shakespeare Debating Club. Edwin Aram, +President." + +This was intended to reassure us as to his literary taste and standard, +and to meet any suspicion we might feel had there been no address of any +sort accompanying the poem. No one we knew had ever heard of a +Shakespeare Debating Club in New York city. But we gave him the benefit +of the doubt until we found that this poem, like the first, was also +stolen. His third poem bore his name and an address, which on instant +inquiry turned out to be that of a vacant lot on Seventh Avenue near +Central Park. + +Edwin Aram had by this time become an exasperating and picturesque +individual, and the editorial staff was divided in its opinion +concerning him. It was argued on one hand that as the man had never sent +us a real address, his object must be to gain a literary reputation at +the expense of certain poets, and not to make money at ours. Others +answered this by saying that fear of detection alone kept Edwin Aram +from sending his real address, but that as soon as his poem was printed, +and he ascertained by that fact that he had not been discovered, he +would put in an application for payment, and let us know quickly enough +to what portion of New York city his check should be forwarded. + +This, however, presupposed the fact that he was writing to us over his +real name, which we did not believe he would dare to do. No one in our +little circle of journalists and literary men had ever heard of such a +man, and his name did not appear in the directory. This fact, however, +was not convincing in itself, as the residents of New York move from +flat to hotel, and from apartments to boarding-houses as frequently as +the Arab changes his camping-ground. We tried to draw him out at last by +publishing a personal paragraph which stated that several contributions +received from Edwin Aram would be returned to him if he would send +stamps and his present address. The editor did not add that he would +return the poems in person, but such was his warlike intention. + +This had the desired result, and brought us a fourth poem and a fourth +address, the name of a tall building which towers above Union Square. We +seemed to be getting very warm now, and the editor gathered up the four +poems, and called to his aid his friend Bronson, the ablest reporter on +the New York ----, who was to act as chronicler. They took with them +letters from the authors of two of the poems and from the editor of the +magazine in which the first one had originally appeared, testifying to +the fact that Edwin Aram had made an exact copy of the original, and +wishing the brother editor good luck in catching the plagiarist. + +The reporter looked these over with a critical eye. "The City Editor +told me if we caught him," he said, "that I could let it run for all it +was worth. I can use these names, I suppose, and I guess they have +pictures of the poets at the office. If he turns out to be anybody in +particular, it ought to be worth a full three columns. Sunday paper, +too." + +The amateur detectives stood in the lower hall in the tall building, +between swinging doors, and jostled by hurrying hundreds, while they +read the names on a marble directory. + +"There he is!" said the editor, excitedly. "'American Literary Bureau.' +One room on the fourteenth floor. That's just the sort of a place in +which we would be likely to find him." But the reporter was gazing +open-eyed at a name in large letters on an office door. "Edward K. +Aram," it read, "Commissioner of ----, and City ----." + +"What do you think of _that_?" he gasped, triumphantly. + +"Nonsense," said the editor. "He wouldn't dare; besides, the initials +are different. You're expecting too good a story." + +"That's the way to get them," answered the reporter, as he hurried +towards the office of the City ----. "If a man falls dead, believe it's +a suicide until you prove it's not; if you find a suicide, believe it's +a murder until you are convinced to the contrary. Otherwise you'll get +beaten. We don't want the proprietor of a little literary bureau, we +want a big city official and I'll believe we have one until he proves we +haven't." + +"Which are you going to ask for?" whispered the editor, "Edward K. or +Edwin?" + +"Edwin, I should say," answered the reporter. "He has probably given +notice that mail addressed that way should go to him." + +"Is Mr. Edwin Aram in?" he asked. + +A clerk raised his head and looked behind him. "No," he said; "his desk +is closed. I guess he's gone home for the day." + +The reporter nudged the editor savagely with his elbow, but his face +gave no sign. "That's a pity," he said; "we have an appointment with +him. He still lives at Sixty-first Street and Madison Avenue, I believe, +does he not?" + +"No," said the clerk; "that's his father, the Commissioner, Edward K. +The son lives at ----. Take the Sixth Avenue elevated and get off at +116th Street." + +"Thank you," said the reporter. He turned a triumphant smile upon the +editor. "We've got him!" he said, excitedly. "And the son of old Edward +K., too! Think of it! Trying to steal a few dollars by cribbing other +men's poems; that's the best story there has been in the papers for the +past three months,--'Edward K. Aram's son a thief!' Look at the +names--politicians, poets, editors, all mixed up in it. It's good for +three columns, sure." + +"We've got to think of his people, too," urged the editor, as they +mounted the steps of the elevated road. + +"He didn't think of them," said the reporter. + +The house in which Mr. Aram lived was an apartment-house, and the brass +latchets in the hallway showed that it contained three suites. There +were visiting-cards under the latchets of the first and third stories, +and under that of the second a piece of note-paper on which was written +the autograph of Edwin Aram. The editor looked at it curiously. He had +never believed it to be a real name. + +"I am sorry Edwin Aram did not turn out to be a woman," he said, +regretfully; "it would have been so much more interesting." + +"Now," instructed Bronson, impressively, "whether he is in or not we +have him. If he's not in, we wait until he comes, even if he doesn't +come until morning; we don't leave this place until we have seen him." + +"Very well," said the editor. + +The maid left them standing at the top of the stairs while she went to +ask if Mr. Aram was in, and whether he would see two gentlemen who did +not give their names because they were strangers to him. The two stood +silent while they waited, eying each other anxiously, and when the girl +reopened the door, nodded pleasantly, and said, "Yes, Mr. Aram is in," +they hurried past her as though they feared that he would disappear in +midair, or float away through the windows before they could reach him. + +And yet, when they stood at last face-to-face him, he bore a most +disappointing air of every-day respectability. He was a tall, thin young +man, with light hair and mustache and large blue eyes. His back was +towards the window, so that his face was in the shadow, and he did not +rise as they entered. The room in which he sat was a prettily furnished +one, opening into another tiny room, which, from the number of books in +it, might have been called a library. The rooms had a well-to-do, even +prosperous, air, but they did not show any evidences of a pronounced +taste on the part of their owner, either in the way in which they were +furnished or in the decorations of the walls. A little girl of about +seven or eight years of age, who was standing between her father's +knees, with a hand on each, and with her head thrown back on his +shoulder, looked up at the two visitors with evident interest, and +smiled brightly. + +"Mr. Aram?" asked the editor, tentatively. + +The young man nodded, and the two visitors seated themselves. + +"I wish to talk to you on a matter of private business," the editor +began. "Wouldn't it be better to send the little girl away?" + +The child shook her head violently at this, and crowded up closely to +her father; but he held her away from him gently, and told her to "run +and play with Annie." + +She passed the two visitors, with her head held scornfully in air, and +left the men together. Mr. Aram seemed to have a most passive and +incurious disposition. He could have no idea as to who his anonymous +visitors might be, nor did he show any desire to know. + +"I am the editor of ----," the editor began. "My friend also writes for +that periodical. I have received several poems from you lately, Mr. +Aram, and one in particular which we all liked very much. It was called +'Bohemia.' But it is so like one that has appeared under the same title +in the '---- Magazine' that I thought I would see you about it, and ask +you if you could explain the similarity. You see," he went on, "it would +be less embarrassing if you would do so now than later, when the poem +has been published and when people might possibly accuse you of +plagiarism." The editor smiled encouragingly and waited. + +Mr. Aram crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands in his lap. +He exhibited no interest, and looked drowsily at the editor. When he +spoke it was in a tone of unstudied indifference. "I never wrote a poem +called 'Bohemia,'" he said, slowly; "at least, if I did I don't remember +it." + +The editor had not expected a flat denial, and it irritated him, for he +recognized it to be the safest course the man could pursue, if he kept +to it. "But you don't mean to say," he protested, smiling, "that you can +write so excellent a poem as 'Bohemia' and then forget having done so?" + +"I might," said Mr. Aram, unresentfully, and with little interest. "I +scribble a good deal." + +"Perhaps," suggested the reporter, politely, with the air of one who is +trying to cover up a difficulty to the satisfaction of all, "Mr. Aram +would remember it if he saw it." + +The editor nodded his head in assent, and took the first page of the two +on which the poem was written, and held it out to Mr. Aram, who accepted +the piece of foolscap and eyed it listlessly. + +"Yes, I wrote that," he said. "I copied it out of a book called _Gems +from American Poets_." There was a lazy pause. "But I never sent it to +any paper." The editor and the reporter eyed each other with outward +calm but with some inward astonishment. They could not see why he had +not adhered to his original denial of the thing _in toto_. It seemed to +them so foolish, to admit having copied the poem and then to deny having +forwarded it. + +"You see," explained Mr. Aram, still with no apparent interest in the +matter, "I am very fond of poetry; I like to recite it, and I often +write it out in order to make me remember it. I find it impresses the +words on my mind. Well, that's what has happened. I have copied this +poem out at the office probably, and one of the clerks there has found +it, and has supposed that I wrote it, and he has sent it to your paper +as a sort of a joke on me. You see, father being so well-known, it would +rather amuse the boys if I came out as a poet. That's how it was, I +guess. Somebody must have found it and sent it to you, because _I_ never +sent it." + +There was a moment of thoughtful consideration. "I see," said the +editor. "I used to do that same thing myself when I had to recite pieces +at school. I found that writing the verses down helped me to remember +them. I remember that I once copied out many of Shakespeare's sonnets. +But, Mr. Aram, it never occurred to me, after having copied out one of +Shakespeare's sonnets, to sign my own name at the bottom of it." + +Mr. Aram's eyes dropped to the page of manuscript in his hand and rested +there for some little time. Then he said, without raising his head, "I +haven't signed this." + +"No," replied the editor; "but you signed the second page, which I still +have in my hand." + +The editor and his companion expected some expression of indignation +from Mr. Aram at this, some question of their right to come into his +house and cross-examine him and to accuse him, tentatively at least, of +literary fraud, but they were disappointed. Mr. Aram's manner was still +one of absolute impassibility. Whether this manner was habitual to him +they could not know, but it made them doubt their own judgment in having +so quickly accused him, as it bore the look of undismayed innocence. + +It was the reporter who was the first to break the silence. "Perhaps +some one has signed Mr. Aram's name--the clerk who sent it, for +instance." + +Young Mr. Aram looked up at him curiously, and held out his hand for the +second page. "Yes," he drawled, "that's how it happened. That's not my +signature. I never signed that." + +The editor was growing restless. "I have several other poems here from +you," he said; "one written from the rooms of the Shakespeare Debating +Club, of which I see you are president. Your clerk could not have access +there, could he? He did not write that, too?" + +"No," said Mr. Aram, doubtfully, "he could not have written that." + +The editor handed him the poem. "It's yours, then?" + +"Yes, that's mine," Mr. Aram replied. + +"And the signature?" + +"Yes, and the signature. I wrote that myself," Mr. Aram explained, "and +sent it myself. That other one ('Bohemia') I just copied out to +remember, but this is original with me." + +"And the envelope in which it was enclosed," asked the editor, "did you +address that also?" + +Mr. Aram examined it uninterestedly. "Yes, that's my handwriting too." +He raised his head. His face wore an expression of patient politeness. + +"Oh!" exclaimed the editor, suddenly, in some embarrassment. "I handed +you the wrong envelope. I beg your pardon. That envelope is the one in +which 'Bohemia' came." + +The reporter gave a hardly perceptible start; his eyes were fixed on the +pattern of the rug at his feet, and the editor continued to examine the +papers in his hand. There was a moment's silence. From outside came the +noise of children playing in the street and the rapid rush of a passing +wagon. + +When the two visitors raised their heads Mr. Aram was looking at them +strangely, and the fingers folded in his lap were twisting in and out. + +"This Shakespeare Debating Club," said the editor, "where are its rooms, +Mr. Aram?" + +"It has no rooms, now," answered the poet. "It has disbanded. It never +had any regular rooms; we just met about and read." + +"I see--exactly," said the editor. "And the house on Seventh Avenue from +which your third poem was sent--did you reside there then, or have you +always lived here?" + +"No, yes--I used to live there--I lived there when I wrote that poem." + +The editor looked at the reporter and back at Mr. Aram. "It is a vacant +lot, Mr. Aram," he said, gravely. + +There was a long pause. The poet rocked slowly up and down in his +rocking-chair, and looked at his hands, which he rubbed over one another +as though they were cold. Then he raised his head and cleared his +throat. + +"Well, gentlemen," he said, "you have made out your case." + +"Yes," said the editor, regretfully, "we have made out our case." He +could not help but wish that the fellow had stuck to his original +denial. It was too easy a victory. + +"I don't say, mind you," went on Mr. Aram, "that I ever took anybody's +verses and sent them to a paper as my own, but I ask you, as one +gentleman talking to another, and inquiring for information, what is +there wrong in doing it? I say, _if_ I had done it, which I don't admit +I ever did, where's the harm?" + +"Where's the harm?" cried the two visitors in chorus. + +"Obtaining money under false pretences," said the editor, "is the harm +you do the publishers, and robbing another man of the work of his brain +and what credit belongs to him is the harm you do him, and telling a lie +is the least harm done. Such a contemptible foolish lie, too, that you +might have known would surely find you out in spite of the trouble you +took to--" + +"I never asked you for any money," interrupted Mr. Aram, quietly. + +"But we would have sent it to you, nevertheless," retorted the editor, +"if we had not discovered in time that the poems were stolen." + +"Where would you have sent it?" asked Mr. Aram. "I never gave you a +right address, did I? I ask you, did I?" + +The editor paused in some confusion, "Well, if you did not want the +money, what did you want?" he exclaimed. "I must say I should like to +know." + +Mr. Aram rocked himself to and fro, and gazed at his two inquisitors +with troubled eyes. "I didn't see any harm in it then," he repeated. "I +don't see any harm in it now. I didn't ask you for any money. I sort of +thought," he said, confusedly, "that I should like to see my name in +print. I wanted my friends to see it. I'd have liked to have shown it +to--to--well, I'd like my wife to have seen it. She's interested in +literature and books and magazines and things like that. That was all I +wanted. That's why I did it." + +The reporter looked up askance at the editor, as a prompter watches the +actor to see if he is ready to take his cue. + +"How do I know that?" demanded the editor, sharply. He found it somewhat +difficult to be severe with this poet, for the man admitted so much so +readily, and would not defend himself. Had he only blustered and grown +angry and ordered them out, instead of sitting helplessly there rocking +to and fro and picking at the back of his hands, it would have made it +so much easier. "How do we know," repeated the editor, "that you did not +intend to wait until the poems had appeared, and then send us your real +address and ask for the money, saying that you had moved since you had +last written us?" + +"Oh," protested Mr. Aram, "you know I never thought of that." + +"I don't know anything of the sort," said the editor. "I only know that +you have forged and lied and tried to obtain money that doesn't belong +to you, and that I mean to make an example of you and frighten other men +from doing the same thing. No editor has read every poem that was ever +written, and there is no protection for him from such fellows as you, +and the only thing he can do when he does catch one of you is to make an +example of him. That's what I am going to do. I am going to make an +example of you. I am going to nail you up as people nail up dead crows +to frighten off the live ones. It is my intention to give this to the +papers to-night, and you know what they will do with it in the morning." + +There was a long and most uncomfortable pause, and it is doubtful if the +editor did not feel it as much as did the man opposite him. The editor +turned to his friend for a glance of sympathy, or of disapproval even, +but that gentleman still sat bending forward with his eyes fixed on the +floor, while he tapped with the top of his cane against his teeth. + +"You don't mean," said Mr. Aram, in a strangely different voice from +which he had last spoken, "that you would do that?" + +"Yes, I do," blustered the editor. But even as he spoke he was conscious +of a sincere regret that he had not come alone. He could intuitively +feel Bronson mapping out the story in his mind and memorizing Aram's +every word, and taking mental notes of the framed certificates of high +membership in different military and masonic associations which hung +upon the walls. It had not been long since the editor was himself a +reporter, and he could see that it was as good a story as Bronson could +wish it to be. But he reiterated, "Yes, I mean to give it to the papers +to-night." + +"But think," said Aram--"think, sir, who I am. You don't want to ruin me +for the rest of my life just for a matter of fifteen dollars, do you? +Fifteen dollars that no one has lost, either. If I'd embezzled a million +or so, or if I had robbed the city, well and good! I'd have taken big +risks for big money; but you are going to punish me just as hard, +because I tried to please my wife, as though I had robbed a mint. No one +has really been hurt," he pleaded; "the men who wrote the poems--they've +been paid for them; they've got all the credit for them they _can_ get. +You've not lost a cent. I've gained nothing by it; and yet you gentlemen +are going to give this thing to the papers, and, as you say, sir, we +know what they will make of it. What with my being my father's son, and +all that, my father is going to suffer. My family is going to suffer. It +will ruin me--" + +The editor put the papers back into his pocket. If Bronson had not been +there he might possibly instead have handed them over to Mr. Aram, and +this story would never have been written. But he could not do that now. +Mr. Aram's affairs had become the property of the New York newspaper. + +He turned to his friend doubtfully. "What do you think, Bronson?" he +asked. + +At this sign of possible leniency Aram ceased in his rocking and sat +erect, with eyes wide open and fixed on Bronson's face. But the latter +trailed his stick over the rug beneath his feet and shrugged his +shoulders. + +"Mr. Aram," he said, "might have thought of his family and his father +before he went into this business. It is rather late now. But," he +added, "I don't think it is a matter we can decide in any event. It +should be left to the firm." + +"Yes," said the editor, hurriedly, glad of the excuse to temporize, "we +must leave it to the house." But he read Bronson's answer to mean that +he did not intend to let the plagiarist escape, and he knew that even +were Bronson willing to do so, there was still his City Editor to be +persuaded. + +The two men rose and stood uncomfortably, shifting their hats in their +hands--and avoiding each other's eyes. Mr. Aram stood up also, and +seeing that his last chance had come, began again to plead desperately. + +"What good would fifteen dollars do me?" he said, with a gesture of his +hands round the room. "I don't have to look for money as hard as that I +tell you," he reiterated, "it wasn't the money I wanted. I didn't mean +any harm. I didn't know it was wrong. I just wanted to please my +wife--that was all. My God, man, can't you see that you are punishing +me out of all proportion?" + +The visitors walked towards the door, and he followed them, talking the +faster as they drew near to it. The scene had become an exceedingly +painful one, and they were anxious to bring it to a close. + +The editor interrupted him. "We will let you know," he said, "what we +have decided to do by to-morrow morning." + +"You mean," retorted the man, hopelessly and reproachfully, "that I will +read it in the Sunday papers." + +Before the editor could answer they heard the door leading into the +apartment open and close, and some one stepping quickly across the hall +to the room in which they stood. The entrance to the room was hung with +a portiere, and as the three men paused in silence this portiere was +pushed back, and a young lady stood in the doorway, holding the curtains +apart with her two hands. She was smiling, and the smile lighted a face +that was inexpressibly bright and honest and true. Aram's face had been +lowered, but the eyes of the other two men were staring wide open +towards the unexpected figure, which seemed to bring a taste of fresh +pure air into the feverish atmosphere of the place. The girl stopped +uncertainly when she saw the two strangers, and bowed her head slightly +as the mistress of a house might welcome any one whom she found in her +drawing-room. She was entirely above and apart from her surroundings. It +was not only that she was exceedingly pretty, but that everything about +her, from her attitude to her cloth walking-dress, was significant of +good taste and high breeding. + +She paused uncertainly, still smiling, and with her gloved hands holding +back the curtains and looking at Aram with eyes filled with a kind +confidence. She was apparently waiting for him to present his friends. + +The editor made a sudden but irrevocable resolve. "If she is only a +chance visitor," he said to himself, "I will still expose him; but if +that woman in the doorway is his wife, I will push Bronson under the +elevated train, and the secret will die with me." + +What Bronson's thoughts were he could not know, but he was conscious +that his friend had straightened his broad shoulders and was holding his +head erect. + +Aram raised his face, but he did not look at the woman in the door. "In +a minute, dear," he said; "I am busy with these gentlemen." + +The girl gave a little "oh" of apology, smiled at her husband's bent +head, inclined her own again slightly to the other men, and let the +portiere close behind her. It had been as dramatic an entrance and exit +as the two visitors had ever seen upon the stage. It was as if Aram had +given a signal, and the only person who could help him had come in the +nick of time to plead for him. Aram, stupid as he appeared to be, had +evidently felt the effect his wife's appearance had made upon his +judges. He still kept his eyes fixed upon the floor, but he said, and +this time with more confidence in his tone:-- + +"It is not, gentlemen, as though I were an old man. I have so very long +to live--so long to try to live this down. Why, I am as young as you +are. How would you like to have a thing like this to carry with you till +you died?" + +The editor still stood staring blankly at the curtains through which Mr. +Aram's good angel, for whom he had lied and cheated in order to gain +credit in her eyes, had disappeared. He pushed them aside with his +stick. "We will let you know to-morrow morning," he repeated, and the +two men passed out from the poet's presence, and on into the hall. They +descended the stairs in an uncomfortable silence, Bronson leading the +way, and the editor endeavoring to read his verdict by the back of his +head and shoulders. + +At the foot of the steps he pulled his friend by the sleeve. "Bronson," +he coaxed, "you are not going to use it, are you?" + +Bronson turned on him savagely. "For Heaven's sake!" he protested, "what +do you think I am; did you _see_ her?" + +So the New York ---- lost a very good story, and Bronson a large sum of +money for not writing it, and Mr. Aram was taught a lesson, and his +young wife's confidence in him remained unshaken. The editor and +reporter dined together that night, and over their cigars decided with +sudden terror that Mr. Aram might, in his ignorance of their good +intentions concerning him, blow out his brains, and for nothing. So they +despatched a messenger-boy up town in post-haste with a note saying that +"the firm" had decided to let the matter drop. Although, perhaps, it +would have been better to have given him one sleepless night at least. + +That was three years ago, and since then Mr. Aram's father has fallen +out with Tammany, and has been retired from public service. Bronson has +been sent abroad to represent the United States at a foreign court, and +has asked the editor to write the story that he did not write, but with +such changes in the names of people and places that no one save Mr. Aram +may know who Mr. Aram really was and is. + +This the editor has done, reporting what happened as faithfully as he +could, and in the hope that it will make an interesting story in spite +of the fact, and not on account of the fact, that it is a true one. + + + + +AN ASSISTED EMIGRANT + + +Guido stood on the curb-stone in Fourteenth Street, between Fifth Avenue +and Sixth Avenue, with a row of plaster figures drawn up on the sidewalk +in front of him. It was snowing, and they looked cold in consequence, +especially the Night and Morning. A line of men and boys stretched on +either side of Guido all along the curb-stone, with toys and dolls, and +guns that shot corks into the air with a loud report, and glittering +dressings for the Christmas trees. It was the day before Christmas. The +man who stood next in line to Guido had hideous black monkeys that +danced from the end of a rubber string. The man danced up and down too, +very much, so Guido thought, as the monkeys did, and stamped his feet on +the icy pavement, and shouted: "Here yer are, lady, for five cents. Take +them home to the children." There were hundreds and hundreds of ladies +and little girls crowding by all of the time; some of them were a +little cross and a little tired, as if Christmas shopping had told on +their nerves, but the greater number were happy-looking and warm, and +some stopped and laughed at the monkeys dancing on the rubber strings, +and at the man with the frost on his mustache, who jumped too, and +cried, "Only five cents, lady--nice Christmas presents for the +children." + +Sometimes the ladies bought the monkeys, but no one looked at the cold +plaster figures of St. Joseph, and Diana, and Night and Morning, nor at +the heads of Mars and Minerva--not even at the figure of the Virgin, +with her two hands held out, which Guido pressed in his arms against his +breast. + +Guido had been in New York city just one month. He was very young--so +young that he had never done anything at home but sit on the wharves and +watch the ships come in and out of the great harbor of Genoa. He never +had wished to depart with these ships when they sailed away, nor +wondered greatly as to where they went. He was content with the wharves +and with the narrow streets near by, and to look up from the bulkheads +at the sailors working in the rigging, and the 'long-shoremen rolling +the casks on board, or lowering great square boxes into the holds. + +He would have liked, could he have had his way, to live so for the rest +of his life; but they would not let him have his way, and coaxed him on +a ship to go to the New World to meet his uncle. He was not a real +uncle, but only a make-believe one, to satisfy those who objected to +assisted immigrants, and who wished to be assured against having to +support Guido, and others like him. But they were not half so anxious to +keep Guido at home as he himself was to stay there. + +The new uncle met him at Ellis Island, and embraced him affectionately, +and put him in an express wagon, and drove him with a great many more of +his countrymen to where Mulberry Street makes a bend and joins Hester. +And in the Bend Guido found thousands of his fellows sleeping twenty in +a room and over-crowded into the street: some who had but just arrived, +and others who had already learned to swear in English, and had their +street-cleaning badges and their peddler's licenses, to show that they +had not been overlooked by the kindly society of Tammany, which sees +that no free and independent voter shall go unrewarded. + +New York affected Guido like a bad dream. It was cold and muddy, and +the snow when it fell turned to mud so quickly that Guido believed they +were one and the same. He did not dare to think of the place he know as +home. And the sight of the colored advertisements of the steamship lines +that hung in the windows of the Italian bankers hurt him as the sound of +traffic on the street cuts to the heart of a prisoner in the Tombs. Many +of his countrymen bade good-by to Mulberry Street and sailed away; but +they had grown rich through obeying the padrones, and working night and +morning sweeping the Avenue uptown, and by living on the refuse from the +scows at Canal Street. Guido never hoped to grow rich, and no one +stopped to buy his uncle's wares. + +The electric lights came out, and still the crowd passed and thronged +before him, and the snow fell and left no mark on the white figures. +Guido was growing cold, and the bustle of the hurrying hundreds which +had entertained him earlier in the day had ceased to interest him, and +his amusement had given place to the fear that no one of them would ever +stop, and that he would return to his uncle empty-handed. He was hungry +now, as well as cold, and though there was not much rich food in the +Bend at any time, to-day he had had nothing of any quality to eat since +early morning. The man with the monkeys turned his head from time to +time, and spoke to him in a language that he could not understand; +although he saw that it was something amusing and well meant that the +man said, and so smiled back and nodded. He felt it to be quite a loss +when the man moved away. + +Guido thought very slowly, but he at last began to feel a certain +contempt for the stiff statues and busts which no one wanted, and +buttoned the figure of the one of the woman with her arms held out, +inside of his jacket, and tucked his scarf in around it, so that it +might not be broken, and also that it might not bear the ignominy with +the others of being overlooked. Guido was a gentle, slow-thinking boy, +and could not have told you why he did this, but he knew that this +figure was of different clay from the others. He had seen it placed high +in the cathedrals at home, and he had been told that if you ask certain +things of it it will listen to you. + +The women and children began to disappear from the crowd, and the +necessity of selling some of his wares impressed itself more urgently +upon him as the night grew darker and possible customers fewer. He +decided that he had taken up a bad position, and that instead of waiting +for customers to come to him, he ought to go seek for them. With this +purpose in his mind, he gathered the figures together upon his tray, and +resting it upon his shoulder, moved further along the street, to +Broadway, where the crowd was greater and the shops more brilliantly +lighted. He had good cause to be watchful, for the sidewalks were +slippery with ice, and the people rushed and hurried and brushed past +him without noticing the burden he carried on one shoulder. He wished +now that he knew some words of this new language, that he might call his +wares and challenge the notice of the passers-by, as did the other men +who shouted so continually and vehemently at the hurrying crowds. He did +not know what might happen if he failed to sell one of his statues; it +was a possibility so awful that he did not dare conceive of its +punishment. But he could do nothing, and so stood silent, dumbly +presenting his tray to the people near him. + +His wanderings brought him to the corner of a street, and he started to +cross it, in the hope of better fortune in untried territory. There was +no need of his hurrying to do this, although a car was coming towards +him, so he stepped carefully but surely. But as he reached the middle of +the track a man came towards him from the opposite pavement; they met +and hesitated, and then both jumped to the same side, and the man's +shoulder struck the tray and threw the white figures flying to the +track, where the horses tramped over them on their way. Guido fell +backwards, frightened and shaken, and the car stopped, and the driver +and the conductor leaned out anxiously from each end. + +There seemed to be hundreds of people all around Guido, and some of them +picked him up and asked him questions in a very loud voice, as though +that would make the language they spoke more intelligible. Two men took +him by each arm and talked with him in earnest tones, and punctuated +their questions by shaking him gently. He could not answer them, but +only sobbed, and beat his hands softly together, and looked about him +for a chance to escape. The conductor of the car jerked the strap +violently, and the car went on its way. Guido watched the conductor, as +he stood with his hands in his pockets looking back at him. Guido had a +confused idea that the people on the car might pay him for the plaster +figures which had been scattered in the slush and snow, so that the +heads and arms and legs lay on every side or were ground into heaps of +white powder. But when the car disappeared into the night he gave up +this hope, and pulling himself free from his captor, slipped through the +crowd and ran off into a side street. A man who had seen the accident +had been trying to take up a collection in the crowd, which had grown +less sympathetic and less numerous in consequence, and had gathered more +than the plaster casts were worth; but Guido did not know this, and when +they came to look for him he was gone, and the bareheaded gentleman, +with his hat full of coppers and dimes, was left in much embarrassment. + +Guido walked to Washington Square, and sat down on a bench to rest, and +then curled over quickly, and stretching himself out at full length, +wept bitterly. When any one passed he held his breath and pretended to +be asleep. He did not know what he was to do or where he was to go. +Such a calamity as this had never entered into his calculations of the +evils which might overtake him, and it overwhelmed him utterly. A +policeman touched him with his nightstick, and spoke to him kindly +enough, but the boy only backed away from the man until he was out of +his reach, and then ran on again, slipping and stumbling on the ice and +snow. He ran to Christopher Street, through Greenwich Village, and on to +the wharves. + +It was quite late, and he had recovered from his hunger, and only felt a +sick tired ache at his heart. His feet were heavy and numb, and he was +very sleepy. People passed him continually, and doors opened into +churches and into noisy glaring saloons and crowded shops, but it did +not seem possible to him that there could be any relief from any source +for the sorrow that had befallen him. It seemed too awful, and as +impossible to mend as it would be to bring the crushed plaster into +shape again. He considered dully that his uncle would miss him and wait +for him, and that his anger would increase with every moment of his +delay. He felt that he could never return to his uncle again. + +Then he came to another park, opening into a square, with lighted +saloons on one side, and on the other great sheds, with ships lying +beside them, and the electric lights showing their spars and masts +against the sky. It had ceased snowing, but the air from the river was +piercing and cold, and swept through the wires overhead with a ceaseless +moaning. The numbness had crept from his feet up over the whole extent +of his little body, and he dropped upon a flight of steps back of a +sailors' boarding-house, and shoved his hands inside of his jacket for +possible warmth. His fingers touched the figure he had hidden there and +closed upon it lightly, and then his head dropped back against the wall, +and he fell into a heavy sleep. The night passed on and grew colder, and +the wind came across the ice-blocked river with shriller, sharper +blasts, but Guido did not hear it. + +"Chuckey" Martin, who blacked boots in front of the corner saloon in +summer and swept out the bar-room in winter, came out through the family +entrance and dumped a pan of hot ashes into the snow-bank, and then +turned into the house with a shiver. He saw a mass of something lying +curled up on the steps of the next house, and remembered it after he had +closed the door of the family entrance behind him and shoved the pan +under the stove. He decided at last that it might be one of the saloon's +customers, or a stray sailor with loose change in his pockets, which he +would not miss when he awoke. So he went out again, and picking Guido +up, brought him in in his arms and laid him out on the floor. + +There were over thirty men in the place; they had been celebrating the +coming of Christmas; and three of them pushed each other out of the way +in their eagerness to pour very bad brandy between Guido's teeth. +"Chuckey" Martin felt a sense of proprietorship in Guido, by the right +of discovery, and resented this, pushing them away, and protesting that +the thing to do was to rub his feet with snow. + +A fat oily chief engineer of an Italian tramp steamer dropped on his +knees beside Guido and beat the boy's hands, and with unsteady fingers +tore open his scarf and jacket, and as he did this the figure of the +plaster Virgin with her hands stretched out looked up at him from its +bed on Guido's chest. + +Some of the sailors drew their hands quickly across their breasts, and +others swore in some alarm, and the bar-keeper drank the glass of +whiskey he had brought for Guido at a gulp, and then readjusted his +apron to show that nothing had disturbed his equanimity. Guido sat up, +with his head against the chief engineer's knees, and opened his eyes, +and his ears were greeted with words in his own tongue. They gave him +hot coffee and hot soup and more brandy, and he told his story in a +burst of words that flowed like a torrent of tears--how he had been +stolen from his home at Genoa, where he used to watch the boats from the +stone pier in front of the custom-house, at which the sailors nodded, +and how the padrone, who was not his uncle, finding he could not black +boots nor sell papers, had given him these plaster casts to sell, and +how he had whipped him when people would not buy them, and how at last +he had tripped, and broken them all except this one hidden in his +breast, and how he had gone to sleep, and he asked now why had they +wakened him, for he had no place to go. + +Guido remembered telling them this, and following them by their +gestures as they retold it to the others in a strange language, and then +the lights began to spin, and the faces grew distant, and he reached out +his hand for the fat chief engineer, and felt his arms tightening around +him. + +A cold wind woke Guido, and the sound of something throbbing and beating +like a great clock. He was very warm and tired and lazy, and when he +raised his head he touched the ceiling close above him, and when he +opened his eyes he found himself in a little room with a square table +covered with oil-cloth in the centre, and rows of beds like shelves +around the walls. The room rose and fell as the streets did when he had +had nothing to eat, and he scrambled out of the warm blankets and +crawled fearfully up a flight of narrow stairs. There was water on +either side of him, beyond and behind him--water blue and white and +dancing in the sun, with great blocks of dirty ice tossing on its +surface. + +And behind him lay the odious city of New York, with its great bridge +and high buildings, and before him the open sea. The chief engineer +crawled up from the engine-room and came towards him, rubbing the +perspiration from his face with a dirty towel. + +"Good-morning," he called out. "You are feeling pretty well?" + +"Yes." + +"It is Christmas day. Do you know where you are going? You are going to +Italy, to Genoa. It is over there," he said, pointing with his finger. +"Go back to your bed and keep warm." + +He picked Guido up in his arms, and ran with him down the companion-way, +and tossed him back into his berth. Then he pointed to the shelf at one +end of the little room, above the sheet-iron stove. The plaster figure +that Guido had wrapped in his breast had been put there and lashed to +its place. + +"That will bring us good luck and a quick voyage," said the chief +engineer. + +Guido lay quite still until the fat engineer had climbed up the +companion-way again and permitted the sunlight to once more enter the +cabin. Then he crawled out of his berth and dropped on his knees, and +raised up his hands to the plaster figure which no one would buy. + + + + +THE REPORTER WHO MADE HIMSELF KING + + +The Old Time Journalist will tell you that the best reporter is the one +who works his way up. He holds that the only way to start is as a +printer's devil or as an office boy, to learn in time to set type, to +graduate from a compositor into a stenographer, and as a stenographer +take down speeches at public meetings, and so finally grow into a real +reporter, with a fire badge on your left suspender, and a speaking +acquaintance with all the greatest men in the city, not even excepting +Police Captains. + +That is the old time journalist's idea of it. That is the way he was +trained, and that is why at the age of sixty he is still a reporter. If +you train up a youth in this way, he will go into reporting with too +full a knowledge of the newspaper business, with no illusions concerning +it, and with no ignorant enthusiasms, but with a keen and justifiable +impression that he is not paid enough for what he does. And he will +only do what he is paid to do. + +Now, you cannot pay a good reporter for what he does, because he does +not work for pay. He works for his paper. He gives his time, his health, +his brains, his sleeping hours, and his eating hours, and sometimes his +life to get news for it. He thinks the sun rises only that men may have +light by which to read it. But if he has been in a newspaper office from +his youth up, he finds out before he becomes a reporter that this is not +so, and loses his real value. He should come right out of the University +where he has been doing "campus notes" for the college weekly, and be +pitchforked out into city work without knowing whether the Battery is at +Harlem or Hunter's Point, and with the idea that he is a Moulder of +Public Opinion and that the Power of the Press is greater than the Power +of Money, and that the few lines he writes are of more value in the +Editor's eyes than is the column of advertising on the last page, which +they are not. After three years--it is sometimes longer, sometimes not +so long--he finds out that he has given his nerves and his youth and his +enthusiasm in exchange for a general fund of miscellaneous knowledge, +the opportunity of personal encounter with all the greatest and most +remarkable men and events that have risen in those three years, and a +great fund of resource and patience. He will find that he has crowded +the experiences of the lifetime of the ordinary young business man, +doctor, or lawyer, or man about town, into three short years; that he +has learned to think and to act quickly, to be patient and unmoved when +every one else has lost his head, actually or figuratively speaking; to +write as fast as another man can talk, and to be able to talk with +authority on matters of which other men do not venture even to think +until they have read what he has written with a copy-boy at his elbow on +the night previous. + +It is necessary for you to know this, that you may understand what +manner of man young Albert Gordon was. + +Young Gordon had been a reporter just three years. He had left Yale when +his last living relative died, and had taken the morning train for New +York, where they had promised him reportorial work on one of the +innumerable Greatest New York Dailies. He arrived at the office at +noon, and was sent back over the same road on which he had just come, to +Spuyten Duyvil, where a train had been wrecked and everybody of +consequence to suburban New York killed. One of the old reporters +hurried him to the office again with his "copy," and after he had +delivered that, he was sent to the Tombs to talk French to a man in +Murderer's Row, who could not talk anything else, but who had shown some +international skill in the use of a jimmy. And at eight, he covered a +flower-show in Madison Square Garden; and at eleven was sent over the +Brooklyn Bridge in a cab to watch a fire and make guesses at the losses +to the insurance companies. + +He went to bed at one, and dreamed of shattered locomotives, human +beings lying still with blankets over them, rows of cells, and banks of +beautiful flowers nodding their heads to the tunes of the brass band in +the gallery. He decided when he awoke the next morning that he had +entered upon a picturesque and exciting career, and as one day followed +another, he became more and more convinced of it, and more and more +devoted to it. He was twenty then, and he was now twenty-three, and in +that time had become a great reporter, and had been to Presidential +conventions in Chicago, revolutions in Hayti, Indian outbreaks on the +Plains, and midnight meetings of moonlighters in Tennessee, and had seen +what work earthquakes, floods, fire, and fever could do in great cities, +and had contradicted the President, and borrowed matches from burglars. +And now he thought he would like to rest and breathe a bit, and not to +work again unless as a war correspondent. The only obstacle to his +becoming a great war correspondent lay in the fact that there was no +war, and a war correspondent without a war is about as absurd an +individual as a general without an army. He read the papers every +morning on the elevated trains for war clouds; but though there were +many war clouds, they always drifted apart, and peace smiled again. This +was very disappointing to young Gordon, and he became more and more +keenly discouraged. + +And then as war work was out of the question, he decided to write his +novel. It was to be a novel of New York life, and he wanted a quiet +place in which to work on it. He was already making inquiries among the +suburban residents of his acquaintance for just such a quiet spot, when +he received an offer to go to the Island of Opeki in the North Pacific +Ocean, as secretary to the American consul to that place. The gentleman +who had been appointed by the President to act as consul at Opeki, was +Captain Leonard T. Travis, a veteran of the Civil War, who had +contracted a severe attack of rheumatism while camping out at night in +the dew, and who on account of this souvenir of his efforts to save the +Union had allowed the Union he had saved to support him in one office or +another ever since. He had met young Gordon at a dinner, and had had the +presumption to ask him to serve as his secretary, and Gordon, much to +his surprise, had accepted his offer. The idea of a quiet life in the +tropics with new and beautiful surroundings, and with nothing to do and +plenty of time in which to do it, and to write his novel besides, seemed +to Albert to be just what he wanted; and though he did not know nor care +much for his superior officer, he agreed to go with him promptly, and +proceeded to say good-by to his friends and to make his preparations. +Captain Travis was so delighted with getting such a clever young +gentleman for his secretary, that he referred to him to his friends as +"my attache of legation;" nor did he lessen that gentleman's dignity by +telling any one that the attache's salary was to be five hundred dollars +a year. His own salary was only fifteen hundred dollars; and though his +brother-in-law, Senator Rainsford, tried his best to get the amount +raised, he was unsuccessful. The consulship to Opeki was instituted +early in the '50's, to get rid of and reward a third or fourth cousin of +the President's, whose services during the campaign were important, but +whose after-presence was embarrassing. He had been created consul to +Opeki as being more distant and unaccessible than any other known spot, +and had lived and died there; and so little was known of the island, and +so difficult was communication with it, that no one knew he was dead, +until Captain Travis, in his hungry haste for office, had uprooted the +sad fact. Captain Travis, as well as Albert, had a secondary reason for +wishing to visit Opeki. His physician had told him to go to some warm +climate for his rheumatism, and in accepting the consulship his object +was rather to follow out his doctor's orders at his country's expense, +than to serve his country at the expense of his rheumatism. + +Albert could learn but very little of Opeki; nothing, indeed, but that +it was situated about one hundred miles from the Island of Octavia, +which island, in turn, was simply described as a coaling-station three +hundred miles distant from the coast of California. Steamers from San +Francisco to Yokohama stopped every third week at Octavia, and that was +all that either Captain Travis or his secretary could learn of their new +home. This was so very little, that Albert stipulated to stay only as +long as he liked it, and to return to the States within a few months if +he found such a change of plan desirable. + +As he was going to what was an almost undiscovered country, he thought +it would be advisable to furnish himself with a supply of articles with +which he might trade with the native Opekians, and for this purpose he +purchased a large quantity of brass rods, because he had read that +Stanley did so, and added to these, brass curtain chains and about two +hundred leaden medals similar to those sold by street pedlers during +the Constitutional Centennial celebration in New York City. + +He also collected even more beautiful but less expensive decorations for +Christmas trees, at a wholesale house on Park Row. These he hoped to +exchange for furs or feathers or weapons, or for whatever other curious +and valuable trophies the Island of Opeki boasted. He already pictured +his rooms on his return hung fantastically with crossed spears and +boomerangs, feather head-dresses, and ugly idols. + +His friends told him that he was doing a very foolish thing, and argued +that once out of the newspaper world, it would be hard to regain his +place in it. But he thought the novel that he would write while lost to +the world at Opeki would serve to make up for his temporary absence from +it, and he expressly and impressively stipulated that the editor should +wire him if there was a war. + +Captain Travis and his secretary crossed the continent without +adventure, and took passage from San Francisco on the first steamer that +touched at Octavia. They reached that island in three days, and learned +with some concern that there was no regular communication with Opeki, +and that it would be necessary to charter a sailboat for the trip. Two +fishermen agreed to take them and their trunks, and to get them to their +destination within sixteen hours if the wind held good. It was a most +unpleasant sail. The rain fell with calm, relentless persistence from +what was apparently a clear sky; the wind tossed the waves as high as +the mast and made Captain Travis ill; and as there was no deck to the +big boat, they were forced to huddle up under pieces of canvas, and +talked but little. Captain Travis complained of frequent twinges of +rheumatism, and gazed forlornly over the gunwale at the empty waste of +water. + +"If I've got to serve a term of imprisonment on a rock in the middle of +the ocean for four years," he said, "I might just as well have done +something first to deserve it. This is a pretty way to treat a man who +bled for his country. This is gratitude, this is." Albert pulled heavily +on his pipe, and wiped the rain and spray from his face and smiled. + +"Oh, it won't be so bad when we get there," he said; "they say these +Southern people are always hospitable, and the whites will be glad to +see any one from the States." + +"There will be a round of diplomatic dinners," said the consul, with an +attempt at cheerfulness. "I have brought two uniforms to wear at them." + +It was seven o'clock in the evening when the rain ceased, and one of the +black, half-naked fishermen nodded and pointed at a little low line on +the horizon. + +"Opeki," he said. The line grew in length until it proved to be an +island with great mountains rising to the clouds, and as they drew +nearer and nearer, showed a level coast running back to the foot of the +mountains and covered with a forest of palms. They next made out a +village of thatched huts around a grassy square, and at some distance +from the village a wooden structure with a tin roof. + +"I wonder where the town is," asked the consul, with a nervous glance at +the fishermen. One of them told him that what he saw was the town. + +"That?" gasped the consul. "Is that where all the people on the island +live?" + +The fisherman nodded; but the other added that there were other natives +further back in the mountains, but that they were bad men who fought and +ate each other. The consul and his attache of legation gazed at the +mountains with unspoken misgivings. They were quite near now, and could +see an immense crowd of men and women, all of them black, and clad but +in the simplest garments, waiting to receive them. They seemed greatly +excited and ran in and out of the huts, and up and down the beach, as +wildly as so many black ants. But in the front of the group they +distinguished three men who they could see were white, though they were +clothed, like the others, simply in a shirt and a short pair of +trousers. Two of these three suddenly sprang away on a run and +disappeared among the palm-trees; but the third one, when he recognized +the American flag in the halyards, threw his straw hat in the water and +began turning handsprings over the sand. + +"That young gentleman, at least," said Albert, gravely, "seems pleased +to see us." + +A dozen of the natives sprang into the water and came wading and +swimming towards them, grinning and shouting and swinging their arms. + +"I don't think it's quite safe, do you?" said the consul, looking out +wildly to the open sea. "You see, they don't know who I am." + +A great black giant threw one arm over the gunwale and shouted something +that sounded as if it were spelt Owah, Owah, as the boat carried him +through the surf. + +"How do you do?" said Gordon, doubtfully. The boat shook the giant off +under the wave and beached itself so suddenly that the American consul +was thrown forward to his knees. Gordon did not wait to pick him up, but +jumped out and shook hands with the young man who had turned +handsprings, while the natives gathered about them in a circle and +chatted and laughed in delighted excitement. + +"I'm awful glad to see you," said the young man, eagerly. "My name's +Stedman. I'm from New Haven, Connecticut. Where are you from?" + +"New York," said Albert. "This," he added, pointing solemnly to Captain +Travis, who was still on his knees in the boat, "is the American consul +to Opeki." The American consul to Opeki gave a wild look at Mr. Stedman +of New Haven and at the natives. + +"See here, young man," he gasped, "is this all there is of Opeki?" + +"The American consul?" said young Stedman, with a gasp of amazement, and +looking from Albert to Captain Travis. "Why, I never supposed they would +send another here; the last one died about fifteen years ago, and there +hasn't been one since. I've been living in the consul's office with the +Bradleys, but I'll move out, of course. I'm sure I'm awfully glad to see +you. It'll make it so much more pleasant for me." + +"Yes," said Captain Travis, bitterly, as he lifted his rheumatic leg +over the boat; "that's why we came." + +Mr. Stedman did not notice this. He was too much pleased to be anything +but hospitable. "You are soaking wet, aren't you?" he said; "and hungry, +I guess. You come right over to the consul's office and get on some +other things." + +He turned to the natives and gave some rapid orders in their language, +and some of them jumped into the boat at this, and began to lift out +the trunks, and others ran off towards a large, stout old native, who +was sitting gravely on a log, smoking, with the rain beating unnoticed +on his gray hair. + +"They've gone to tell the King," said Stedman; "but you'd better get +something to eat first, and then I'll be happy to present you properly." + +"The King," said Captain Travis, with some awe; "is there a king?" + +"I never saw a king," Gordon remarked, "and I'm sure I never expected to +see one sitting on a log in the rain." + +"He's a very good king," said Stedman, confidentially; "and though you +mightn't think it to look at him, he's a terrible stickler for etiquette +and form. After supper he'll give you an audience; and if you have any +tobacco, you had better give him some as a present, and you'd better say +it's from the President: he doesn't like to take presents from common +people, he's so proud. The only reason he borrows mine is because he +thinks I'm the President's son." + +"What makes him think that?" demanded the consul, with some shortness. +Young Mr. Stedman looked nervously at the consul and at Albert, and +said that he guessed some one must have told him. + +The consul's office was divided into four rooms with an open court in +the middle, filled with palms, and watered somewhat unnecessarily by a +fountain. + +"I made that," said Stedman, in a modest off-hand way. "I made it out of +hollow bamboo reeds connected with a spring. And now I'm making one for +the King. He saw this and had a lot of bamboo sticks put up all over the +town, without any underground connections, and couldn't make out why the +water wouldn't spurt out of them. And because mine spurts, he thinks I'm +a magician." + +"I suppose," grumbled the consul, "some one told him that too." + +"I suppose so," said Mr. Stedman, uneasily. + +There was a veranda around the consul's office, and inside the walls +were hung with skins, and pictures from illustrated papers, and there +was a good deal of bamboo furniture, and four broad, cool-looking beds. +The place was as clean as a kitchen. "I made the furniture," said +Stedman, "and the Bradleys keep the place in order." + +"Who are the Bradleys?" asked Albert. + +"The Bradleys are those two men you saw with me," said Stedman; "they +deserted from a British man-of-war that stopped here for coal, and they +act as my servants. One is Bradley, Sr., and the other, Bradley, Jr." + +"Then vessels do stop here occasionally?" the consul said, with a +pleased smile. + +"Well, not often," said Stedman. "Not so very often; about once a year. +The _Nelson_ thought this was Octavia, and put off again as soon as she +found out her mistake, but the Bradleys took to the bush, and the boat's +crew couldn't find them. When they saw your flag, they thought you might +mean to send them back, so they ran off to hide again: they'll be back, +though, when they get hungry." + +The supper young Stedman spread for his guests, as he still treated +them, was very refreshing and very good. There was cold fish and pigeon +pie, and a hot omelet filled with mushrooms and olives and tomatoes and +onions all sliced up together, and strong black coffee. After supper, +Stedman went off to see the King, and came back in a little while to say +that his Majesty would give them an audience the next day after +breakfast. "It is too dark now," Stedman explained; "and it's raining so +that they can't make the street lamps burn. Did you happen to notice our +lamps? I invented them; but they don't work very well yet. I've got the +right idea, though, and I'll soon have the town illuminated all over, +whether it rains or not." + +The consul had been very silent and indifferent, during supper, to all +around him. Now he looked up with some show of interest. + +"How much longer is it going to rain, do you think?" he asked. + +"Oh, I don't know," said Stedman, critically. "Not more than two months, +I should say." The consul rubbed his rheumatic leg and sighed, but said +nothing. + +The Bradleys returned about ten o'clock, and came in very sheepishly. +The consul had gone off to pay the boatmen who had brought them, and +Albert in his absence assured the sailor's that there was not the least +danger of their being sent away. Then he turned into one of the beds, +and Stedman took one in another room, leaving the room he had occupied +heretofore for the consul. As he was saying good-night, Albert suggested +that he had not yet told them how he came to be on a deserted island; +but Stedman only laughed and said that that was a long story, and that +he would tell him all about it in the morning. So Albert went off to bed +without waiting for the consul to return, and fell asleep, wondering at +the strangeness of his new life, and assuring himself that if the rain +only kept up, he would have his novel finished in a month. + +The sun was shining brightly when he awoke, and the palm-trees outside +were nodding gracefully in a warm breeze. From the court came the odor +of strange flowers, and from the window he could see the ocean +brilliantly blue, and with the sun coloring the spray that beat against +the coral reefs on the shore. + +"Well, the consul can't complain of this," he said, with a laugh of +satisfaction; and pulling on a bath-robe, he stepped into the next room +to awaken Captain Travis. But the room was quite empty, and the bed +undisturbed. The consul's trunk remained just where it had been placed +near the door, and on it lay a large sheet of foolscap, with writing on +it, and addressed at the top to Albert Gordon. The handwriting was the +consul's. Albert picked it up and read it with much anxiety. It began +abruptly:-- + + * * * * * + +"The fishermen who brought us to this forsaken spot tell me that it +rains here six months in the year, and that this is the first month. I +came here to serve my country, for which I fought and bled, but I did +not come here to die of rheumatism and pneumonia. I can serve my country +better by staying alive; and whether it rains or not, I don't like it. I +have been grossly deceived, and I am going back. Indeed, by the time you +get this, I will be on my return trip, as I intend leaving with the men +who brought us here as soon as they can get the sail up. My cousin, +Senator Rainsford, can fix it all right with the President, and can have +me recalled in proper form after I get back. But of course it would not +do for me to leave my post with no one to take my place, and no one +could be more ably fitted to do so than yourself; so I feel no +compunctions at leaving you behind. I hereby, therefore, accordingly +appoint you my substitute with full power to act, to collect all fees, +sign all papers, and attend to all matters pertaining to your office as +American consul, and I trust you will worthily uphold the name of that +country and government which it has always been my pleasure and duty to +serve. + +"Your sincere friend and superior officer, + +"LEONARD T. TRAVIS. + +"P.S. I did not care to disturb you by moving my trunk, so I left it, +and you can make what use you please of whatever it contains, as I shall +not want tropical garments where I am going. What you will need most, I +think, is a waterproof and umbrella. + +"P.S. Look out for that young man Stedman. He is too inventive. I hope +you will like your high office; but as for myself, I am satisfied with +little old New York. Opeki is just a bit too far from civilization to +suit me." + + * * * * * + +Albert held the letter before him and read it over again before he +moved. Then he jumped to the window. The boat was gone, and there was +not a sign of it on the horizon. + +"The miserable old hypocrite!" he cried, half angry and half laughing. +"If he thinks I am going to stay here alone he is very greatly mistaken. +And yet, why not?" he asked. He stopped soliloquizing and looked around +him, thinking rapidly. As he stood there, Stedman came in from the other +room, fresh and smiling from his morning's bath. + +"Good morning," he said, "where's the consul?" + +"The consul," said Albert, gravely, "is before you. In me you see the +American consul to Opeki. + +"Captain Travis," Albert explained, "has returned to the United States. +I suppose he feels that he can best serve his country by remaining on +the spot. In case of another war, now, for instance, he would be there +to save it again." + +"And what are you going to do?" asked Stedman, anxiously. "You will not +run away too, will you?" + +Albert said that he intended to remain where he was and perform his +consular duties, to appoint him his secretary, and to elevate the United +States in the opinion of the Opekians above all other nations. + +"They may not think much of the United States in England," he said; "but +we are going to teach the people of Opeki that America is first on the +map, and that there is no second." + +"I'm sure it's very good of you to make me your secretary," said +Stedman, with some pride. "I hope I won't make any mistakes. What are +the duties of a consul's secretary?" + +"That," said Albert, "I do not know. But you are rather good at +inventing, so you can invent a few. That should be your first duty and +you should attend to it at once. I will have trouble enough finding work +for myself. Your salary is five hundred dollars a year; and now," he +continued, briskly, "we want to prepare for this reception. We can tell +the King that Travis was just a guard of honor for the trip, and that I +have sent him back to tell the President of my safe arrival. That will +keep the President from getting anxious. There is nothing," continued +Albert, "like a uniform to impress people who live in the tropics, and +Travis, it so happens, has two in his trunk. He intended to wear them +on State occasions, and as I inherit the trunk and all that is in it, I +intend to wear one of the uniforms, and you can have the other. But I +have first choice, because I am consul." + +Captain Travis's consular outfit consisted of one full dress and one +undress United States uniform. Albert put on the dress-coat over a pair +of white flannel trousers, and looked remarkably brave and handsome. +Stedman, who was only eighteen and quite thin, did not appear so well, +until Albert suggested his padding out his chest and shoulders with +towels. This made him rather warm, but helped his general appearance. + +"The two Bradleys must dress up, too," said Albert. "I think they ought +to act as a guard of honor, don't you? The only things I have are +blazers and jerseys; but it doesn't much matter what they wear, as long +as they dress alike." + +He accordingly called in the two Bradleys, and gave them each a pair of +the captain's rejected white duck trousers, and a blue jersey apiece, +with a big white Y on it. + +"The students of Yale gave me that," he said to the younger Bradley, "in +which to play football, and a great man gave me the other. His name is +Walter Camp; and if you rip or soil that jersey, I'll send you back to +England in irons; so be careful." + +Stedman gazed at his companions in their different costumes, doubtfully. +"It reminds me," he said, "of private theatricals. Of the time our +church choir played 'Pinafore.'" + +"Yes," assented Albert; "but I don't think we look quite gay enough. I +tell you what we need,--medals. You never saw a diplomat without a lot +of decorations and medals." + +"Well, I can fix that," Stedman said. "I've got a trunk-full. I used to +be the fastest bicycle-rider in Connecticut, and I've got all my prizes +with me." + +Albert said doubtfully that that wasn't exactly the sort of medal he +meant. + +"Perhaps not," returned Stedman, as he began fumbling in his trunk; "but +the King won't know the difference. He couldn't tell a cross of the +Legion of Honor from a medal for the tug of war." + +So the bicycle medals, of which Stedman seemed to have an innumerable +quantity, were strung in profusion over Albert's uniform, and in a +lesser quantity over Stedman's; while a handful of leaden ones, those +sold on the streets for the Constitutional Centennial, with which +Albert had provided himself, were wrapped up in a red silk handkerchief +for presentation to the King: with them Albert placed a number of brass +rods and brass chains, much to Stedman's delighted approval. + +"That is a very good idea," he said. "Democratic simplicity is the right +thing at home, of course; but when you go abroad and mix with crowned +heads, you want to show them that you know what's what." + +"Well," said Albert, gravely, "I sincerely hope this crowned head don't +know what's what. If he reads 'Connecticut Agricultural State Fair. One +mile bicycle race. First Prize,' on this badge, when we are trying to +make him believe it's a war medal, it may hurt his feelings." + +Bradley, Jr., went ahead to announce the approach of the American +embassy, which he did with so much manner that the King deferred the +audience a half-hour, in order that he might better prepare to receive +his visitors. When the audience did take place, it attracted the entire +population to the green spot in front of the King's palace, and their +delight and excitement over the appearance of the visitors was sincere +and hearty. The King was too polite to appear much surprised, but he +showed his delight over his presents as simply and openly as a child. +Thrice he insisted on embracing Albert, and kissing him three times on +the forehead, which, Stedman assured him in a side whisper, was a great +honor; an honor which was not extended to the secretary, although he was +given a necklace of animals' claws instead, with which he was better +satisfied. + +After this reception, the embassy marched back to the consul's office, +surrounded by an immense number of the natives, some of whom ran ahead +and looked back at them, and crowded so close that the two Bradleys had +to poke at those nearest with their guns. The crowd remained outside the +office even after the procession of four had disappeared, and cheered. +This suggested to Gordon that this would be a good time to make a +speech, which he accordingly did, Stedman translating it, sentence by +sentence. At the conclusion of this effort, Albert distributed a number +of brass rings among the married men present, which they placed on +whichever finger fitted best, and departed delighted. + +Albert had wished to give the rings to the married women, but Stedman +pointed out to him that it would be much cheaper to give them to the +married men; for while one woman could only have one husband, one man +could have at least six wives. + +"And now, Stedman," said Albert, after the mob had gone, "tell me what +you are doing on this island." + +"It's a very simple story," Stedman said. "I am the representative, or +agent, or operator, for the Yokohama Cable Company. The Yokohama Cable +Company is a company organized in San Francisco, for the purpose of +laying a cable to Yokohama. It is a stock company; and though it started +out very well, the stock has fallen very low. Between ourselves, it is +not worth over three or four cents. When the officers of the company +found out that no one would buy their stock, and that no one believed in +them or their scheme, they laid a cable to Octavia, and extended it on +to this island. Then they said they had run out of ready money, and +would wait until they got more before laying their cable any further. I +do not think they ever will lay it any further, but that is none of my +business. My business is to answer cable messages from San Francisco, so +that the people who visit the home office can see that at least a part +of the cable is working. That sometimes impresses them, and they buy +stock. There is another chap over in Octavia, who relays all my messages +and all my replies to those messages that come to me through him from +San Francisco. They never send a message unless they have brought some +one to the office whom they want to impress, and who, they think, has +money to invest in the Y.C.C. stock, and so we never go near the wire, +except at three o'clock every afternoon. And then generally only to say +'How are you?' or 'It's raining,' or something like that. I've been +saying 'It's raining' now for the last three months, but to-day I will +say that the new consul has arrived. That will be a pleasant surprise +for the chap in Octavia, for he must be tired hearing about the weather. +He generally answers, 'Here too,' or 'So you said,' or something like +that. I don't know what he says to the home office. He's brighter than I +am, and that's why they put him between the two ends. He can see that +the messages are transmitted more fully and more correctly, in a way to +please possible subscribers." + +"Sort of copy editor," suggested Albert. + +"Yes, something of that sort, I fancy," said Stedman. + +They walked down to the little shed on the shore, where the Y.C.C. +office was placed, at three that day, and Albert watched Stedman send +off his message with much interest. The "chap at Octavia," on being +informed that the American consul had arrived at Opeki, inquired, +somewhat disrespectfully, "Is it a life sentence?" + +"What does he mean by that?" asked Albert. + +"I suppose," said his secretary, doubtfully, "that he thinks it a sort +of a punishment to be sent to Opeki. I hope you won't grow to think so." + +"Opeki is all very well," said Gordon, "or it will be when we get things +going our way." + +As they walked back to the office, Albert noticed a brass cannon, +perched on a rock at the entrance to the harbor. This had been put +there by the last consul, but it had not been fired for many years. +Albert immediately ordered the two Bradleys to get it in order, and to +rig up a flag-pole beside it, for one of his American flags, which they +were to salute every night when they lowered it at sundown. + +"And when we are not using it," he said, "the King can borrow it to +celebrate with, if he doesn't impose on us too often. The royal salute +ought to be twenty-one guns, I think; but that would use up too much +powder, so he will have to content himself with two." + +"Did you notice," asked Stedman that night, as they sat on the veranda +of the consul's house, in the moonlight, "how the people bowed to us as +we passed?" + +"Yes," Albert said he had noticed it. "Why?" + +"Well, they never saluted me," replied Stedman. "That sign of respect is +due to the show we made at the reception." + +"It is due to us, in any event," said the consul, severely. "I tell you, +my secretary, that we, as the representatives of the United States +government, must be properly honored on this island. We must become a +power. And we must do so without getting into trouble with the King. We +must make them honor him, too, and then as we push him up, we will push +ourselves up at the same time." + +"They don't think much of consuls in Opeki," said Stedman, doubtfully. +"You see the last one was a pretty poor sort. He brought the office into +disrepute, and it wasn't really until I came and told them what a fine +country the United States was, that they had any opinion of it at all. +Now we must change all that." + +"That is just what we will do," said Albert. "We will transform Opeki +into a powerful and beautiful city. We will make these people work. They +must put up a palace for the King, and lay out streets, and build +wharves, and drain the town properly, and light it. I haven't seen this +patent lighting apparatus of yours, but you had better get to work at it +at once, and I'll persuade the King to appoint you commissioner of +highways and gas, with authority to make his people toil. And I," he +cried, in free enthusiasm, "will organize a navy and a standing army. +Only," he added, with a relapse of interest, "there isn't anybody to +fight." + +"There isn't?" said Stedman, grimly, with a scornful smile. "You just +go hunt up old Messenwah and the Hillmen with your standing army once, +and you'll get all the fighting you want." + +"The Hillmen?" said Albert. + +"The Hillmen are the natives that live up there in the hills," Stedman +said, nodding his head towards the three high mountains at the other end +of the island, that stood out blackly against the purple, moonlit sky. +"There are nearly as many of them as there are Opekians, and they hunt +and fight for a living and for the pleasure of it. They have an old +rascal named Messenwah for a king, and they come down here about once +every three months, and tear things up." + +Albert sprang to his feet. + +"Oh, they do, do they?" he said, staring up at the mountain tops. "They +come down here and tear up things, do they? Well, I think we'll stop +that, I think we'll stop that! I don't care how many there are. I'll get +the two Bradleys to tell me all they know about drilling, to-morrow +morning, and we'll drill these Opekians, and have sham battles, and +attacks, and repulses, until I make a lot of wild, howling Zulus out of +them. And when the Hillmen come down to pay their quarterly visit, +they'll go back again on a run. At least some of them will," he added +ferociously. "Some of them will stay right here." + +"Dear me, dear me!" said Stedman, with awe; "you are a born fighter, +aren't you?" + +"Well, you wait and see," said Gordon; "may be I am. I haven't studied +tactics of war and the history of battles, so that I might be a great +war correspondent, without learning something. And there is only one +king on this island, and that is old Ollypybus himself. And I'll go over +and have a talk with him about it to-morrow." + +Young Stedman walked up and down the length of the veranda, in and out +of the moonlight, with his hands in his pockets, and his head on his +chest. "You have me all stirred up, Gordon," he said; "you seem so +confident and bold, and you're not so much older than I am, either." + +"My training has been different; that's all," said the reporter. + +"Yes," Stedman said bitterly; "I have been sitting in an office ever +since I left school, sending news over a wire or a cable, and you have +been out in the world, gathering it." + +"And now," said Gordon, smiling, and putting his arm around the other +boy's shoulders, "we are going to make news ourselves." + +"There is one thing I want to say to you before you turn in," said +Stedman. "Before you suggest all these improvements on Ollypybus, you +must remember that he has ruled absolutely here for twenty years, and +that he does not think much of consuls. He has only seen your +predecessor and yourself. He likes you because you appeared with such +dignity, and because of the presents; but if I were you, I wouldn't +suggest these improvements as coming from yourself." + +"I don't understand," said Gordon; "who could they come from?" + +"Well," said Stedman, "if you will allow me to advise,--and you see I +know these people pretty well,--I would have all these suggestions come +from the President direct." + +"The President!" exclaimed Gordon; "but how? what does the President +know or care about Opeki? and it would take so long--oh, I see, the +cable. Is that what you have been doing?" he asked. + +"Well, only once," said Stedman, guiltily; "that was when he wanted to +turn me out of the consul's office, and I had a cable that very +afternoon, from the President, ordering me to stay where I was. +Ollypybus doesn't understand the cable, of course, but he knows that it +sends messages; and sometimes I pretend to send messages for him to the +President; but he began asking me to tell the President to come and pay +him a visit, and I had to stop it." + +"I'm glad you told me," said Gordon. "The President shall begin to cable +to-morrow. He will need an extra appropriation from Congress to pay for +his private cablegrams alone." + +"And there's another thing," said Stedman. "In all your plans, you've +arranged for the people's improvement, but not for their amusement; and +they are a peaceful, jolly, simple sort of people, and we must please +them." + +"Have they no games or amusements of their own?" asked Gordon. + +"Well, not what we would call games." + +"Very well, then, I'll teach them base-ball. Foot-ball would be too +warm. But that plaza in front of the King's bungalow, where his palace +is going to be, is just the place for a diamond. On the whole, though," +added the consul, after a moment's reflection, "you'd better attend to +that yourself. I don't think it becomes my dignity as American consul to +take off my coat and give lessons to young Opekians in sliding to bases; +do you? No; I think you'd better do that. The Bradleys will help you, +and you had better begin to-morrow. You have been wanting to know what a +secretary of legation's duties are, and now you know. It's to organize +base-ball nines. And after you get yours ready," he added, as he turned +into his room for the night, "I'll train one that will sweep yours off +the face of the island. For _this_ American consul can pitch three +curves." + +The best-laid plans of men go far astray, sometimes, and the great and +beautiful city that was to rise on the coast of Opeki was not built in a +day. Nor was it ever built. For before the Bradleys could mark out the +foul-lines for the base-ball field on the plaza, or teach their standing +army the goose step, or lay bamboo pipes for the water-mains, or clear +away the cactus for the extension of the King's palace, the Hillmen paid +Opeki their quarterly visit. + +Albert had called on the King the next morning, with Stedman as his +interpreter, as he had said he would, and, with maps and sketches, had +shown his Majesty what he proposed to do towards improving Opeki and +ennobling her king, and when the King saw Albert's free-hand sketches of +wharves with tall ships lying at anchor, and rows of Opekian warriors +with the Bradleys at their head, and the design for his new palace, and +a royal sedan-chair, he believed that these things were already his, and +not still only on paper, and he appointed Albert his Minister of War, +Stedman his Minister of Home Affairs, and selected two of his wisest and +oldest subjects to serve them as joint advisers. His enthusiasm was even +greater than Gordon's, because he did not appreciate the difficulties. +He thought Gordon a semi-god, a worker of miracles, and urged the +putting up of a monument to him at once in the public plaza, to which +Albert objected, on the ground that it would be too suggestive of an +idol; and to which Stedman also objected, but for the less unselfish +reason that it would "be in the way of the pitcher's box." + +They were feverishly discussing all these great changes, and Stedman was +translating as rapidly as he could translate, the speeches of four +different men,--for the two counsellors had been called in, all of whom +wanted to speak at once,--when there came from outside a great shout, +and the screams of women, and the clashing of iron, and the pattering +footsteps of men running. + +As they looked at one another in startled surprise, a native ran into +the room, followed by Bradley, Jr., and threw himself down before the +King. While he talked, beating his hands and bowing before Ollypybus, +Bradley, Jr., pulled his forelock to the consul, and told how this man +lived on the far outskirts of the village; how he had been captured +while out hunting, by a number of the Hillmen; and how he had escaped to +tell the people that their old enemies were on the war path again, and +rapidly approaching the village. + +Outside, the women were gathering in the plaza, with the children about +them, and the men were running from hut to hut, warning their fellows, +and arming themselves with spears and swords, and the native bows and +arrows. + +"They might have waited until we had that army trained," said Gordon, in +a tone of the keenest displeasure. "Tell me, quick, what do they +generally do when they come?" + +"Steal all the cattle and goats, and a woman or two, and set fire to the +huts in the outskirts," replied Stedman. + +"Well, we must stop them," said Gordon, jumping up. "We must take out a +flag of truce and treat with them. They must be kept off until I have my +army in working order. It is most inconvenient. If they had only waited +two months, now, or six weeks even, we could have done something; but +now we must make peace. Tell the King we are going out to fix things +with them, and tell him to keep off his warriors until he learns whether +we succeed or fail." + +"But, Gordon!" gasped Stedman. "Albert! You don't understand. Why, man, +this isn't a street fight or a cane rush. They'll stick you full of +spears, dance on your body, and eat you, maybe. A flag of truce!--you're +talking nonsense. What do they know of a flag of truce?" + +"You're talking nonsense, too," said Albert, "and you're talking to your +superior officer. If you are not with me in this, go back to your cable, +and tell the man in Octavia that it's a warm day, and that the sun is +shining; but if you've any spirit in you,--and I think you have,--run to +the office and get my Winchester rifles, and the two shot guns, and my +revolvers, and my uniform, and a lot of brass things for presents, and +run all the way there and back. And make time. Play you're riding a +bicycle at the Agricultural Fair." + +Stedman did not hear this last; for he was already off and away, pushing +through the crowd, and calling on Bradley, Sr., to follow him. Bradley, +Jr., looked at Gordon with eyes that snapped, like a dog that is waiting +for his master to throw a stone. + +"I can fire a Winchester, sir," he said. "Old Tom can't. He's no good at +long range 'cept with a big gun, sir. Don't give him the Winchester. +Give it to me, please, sir." + +Albert met Stedman in the plaza, and pulled off his blazer, and put on +Captain Travis's--now his--uniform coat, and his white pith helmet. + +"Now, Jack," he said, "get up there and tell these people that we are +going out to make peace with these Hillmen, or bring them back prisoners +of war. Tell them we are the preservers of their homes and wives and +children; and you, Bradley, take these presents, and young Bradley, keep +close to me, and carry this rifle." + +Stedman's speech was hot and wild enough to suit a critical and feverish +audience before a barricade in Paris. And when he was through, Gordon +and Bradley punctuated his oration by firing off the two Winchester +rifles in the air, at which the people jumped and fell on their knees, +and prayed to their several gods. The fighting men of the village +followed the four white men to the outskirts, and took up their stand +there as Stedman told them to do, and the four walked on over the +roughly hewn road, to meet the enemy. + +Gordon walked with Bradley, Jr., in advance. Stedman and old Tom Bradley +followed close behind, with the two shot-guns, and the presents in a +basket. + +"Are these Hillmen used to guns?" asked Gordon. Stedman said no, they +were not. + +"This shot-gun of mine is the only one on the island," he explained, +"and we never came near enough them, before, to do anything with it. It +only carries a hundred yards. The Opekians never make any show of +resistance. They are quite content if the Hillmen satisfy themselves +with the outlying huts, as long as they leave them and the town alone; +so they seldom come to close quarters." + +The four men walked on for a half an hour or so, in silence, peering +eagerly on every side; but it was not until they had left the woods and +marched out into the level stretch of grassy country, that they came +upon the enemy. The Hillmen were about forty in number, and were as +savage and ugly-looking giants as any in a picture book. They had +captured a dozen cows and goats, and were driving them on before them, +as they advanced further upon the village. When they saw the four men, +they gave a mixed chorus of cries and yells, and some of them stopped, +and others ran forward, shaking their spears, and shooting their broad +arrows into the ground before them. A tall, gray-bearded, muscular old +man, with a skirt of feathers about him, and necklaces of bones and +animals' claws around his bare chest, ran in front of them, and seemed +to be trying to make them approach more slowly. + +"Is that Messenwah?" asked Gordon. + +"Yes," said Stedman; "he is trying to keep them back. I don't believe he +ever saw a white man before." + +"Stedman," said Albert, speaking quickly, "give your gun to Bradley, and +go forward with your arms in the air, and waving your handkerchief, and +tell them in their language that the King is coming. If they go at you, +Bradley and I will kill a goat or two, to show them what we can do with +the rifles; and if that don't stop them, we will shoot at their legs; +and if that don't stop them--I guess you'd better come back, and we'll +all run." + +Stedman looked at Albert, and Albert looked at Stedman, and neither of +them winced or flinched. + +"Is this another of my secretary's duties?" asked the younger boy. + +"Yes," said the consul; "but a resignation is always in order. You +needn't go if you don't like it. You see, you know the language and I +don't, but I know how to shoot, and you don't." + +"That's perfectly satisfactory," said Stedman, handing his gun to old +Bradley. "I only wanted to know why I was to be sacrificed, instead of +one of the Bradleys. It's because I know the language. Bradley, Sr., you +see the evil results of a higher education. Wish me luck, please," he +said, "and for goodness' sake," he added impressively, "don't waste much +time shooting goats." + +The Hillmen had stopped about two hundred yards off, and were drawn up +in two lines, shouting, and dancing, and hurling taunting remarks at +their few adversaries. The stolen cattle were bunched together back of +the King. As Stedman walked steadily forward with his handkerchief +fluttering, and howling out something in their own tongue, they stopped +and listened. As he advanced, his three companions followed him at about +fifty yards in the rear. He was one hundred and fifty yards from the +Hillmen, before they made out what he said, and then one of the young +braves, resenting it as an insult to his chief, shot an arrow at him. +Stedman dodged the arrow, and stood his ground without even taking a +step backwards, only turning slightly to put his hands to his mouth, and +to shout something which sounded to his companions like, "About time to +begin on the goats." But the instant the young man had fired, King +Messenwah swung his club and knocked him down, and none of the others +moved. Then Messenwah advanced before his men to meet Stedman, and on +Stedman's opening and shutting his hands to show that he was unarmed, +the King threw down his club and spears, and came forward as +empty-handed as himself. + +"Ah," gasped Bradley, Jr., with his finger trembling on his lever, "let +me take a shot at him now." Gordon struck the man's gun up, and walked +forward in all the glory of his gold and blue uniform; for both he and +Stedman saw now that Messenwah was more impressed by their appearance, +and in the fact that they were white men, than with any threats of +immediate war. So when he saluted Gordon haughtily, that young man gave +him a haughty nod in return, and bade Stedman tell the King that he +would permit him to sit down. The King did not quite appear to like +this, but he sat down, nevertheless, and nodded his head gravely. + +"Now tell him," said Gordon, "that I come from the ruler of the greatest +nation on earth, and that I recognize Ollypybus as the only King of this +island, and that I come to this little three-penny King with either +peace and presents, or bullets and war." + +"Have I got to tell him he's a little three-penny King?" said Stedman, +plaintively. + +"No; you needn't give a literal translation; it can be as free as you +please." + +"Thanks," said the secretary, humbly. + +"And tell him," continued Gordon, "that we will give presents to him and +his warriors if he keeps away from Ollypybus, and agrees to keep away +always. If he won't do that, try to get him to agree to stay away for +three months at least, and by that time we can get word to San +Francisco, and have a dozen muskets over here in two months; and when +our time of probation is up, and he and his merry men come dancing down +the hillside, we will blow them up as high as his mountains. But you +needn't tell him that, either. And if he is proud and haughty, and would +rather fight, ask him to restrain himself until we show what we can do +with our weapons at two hundred yards." + +Stedman seated himself in the long grass in front of the King, and with +many revolving gestures of his arms, and much pointing at Gordon, and +profound nods and bows, retold what Gordon had dictated. When he had +finished, the King looked at the bundle of presents, and at the guns, of +which Stedman had given a very wonderful account, but answered nothing. + +"I guess," said Stedman, with a sigh, "that we will have to give him a +little practical demonstration to help matters. I am sorry, but I think +one of those goats has got to die. It's like vivisection. The lower +order of animals have to suffer for the good of the higher." + +"Oh," said Bradley, Jr., cheerfully, "I'd just as soon shoot one of +those niggers as one of the goats." + +So Stedman bade the King tell his men to drive a goat towards them, and +the King did so, and one of the men struck one of the goats with his +spear, and it ran clumsily across the plain. + +"Take your time, Bradley," said Gordon. "Aim low, and if you hit it, you +can have it for supper." + +"And if you miss it," said Stedman, gloomily, "Messenwah may have us +for supper." + +The Hillmen had seated themselves a hundred yards off, while the leaders +were debating, and they now rose curiously and watched Bradley, as he +sank upon one knee, and covered the goat with his rifle. When it was +about one hundred and fifty yards off, he fired, and the goat fell over +dead. + +And then all the Hillmen, with the King himself, broke away on a run, +towards the dead animal, with much shouting. The King came back alone, +leaving his people standing about and examining the goat. He was much +excited, and talked and gesticulated violently. + +"He says--" said Stedman; "he says--" + +"What? yes; go on." + +"He says--goodness me!--what do you think he says?" + +"Well, what does he say?" cried Gordon, in great excitement. "Don't keep +it all to yourself." + +"He says," said Stedman, "that we are deceived. That he is no longer +King of the Island of Opeki, that he is in great fear of us, and that he +has got himself into no end of trouble. He says he sees that we are +indeed mighty men, that to us he is as helpless as the wild boar before +the javelin of the hunter." + +"Well, he's right," said Gordon. "Go on." + +"But that which we ask is no longer his to give. He has sold his +kingship and his right to this island to another king, who came to him +two days ago in a great canoe, and who made noises as we do,--with guns, +I suppose he means,--and to whom he sold the island for a watch that he +has in a bag around his neck. And that he signed a paper, and made marks +on a piece of bark, to show that he gave up the island freely and +forever." + +"What does he mean?" said Gordon. "How can he give up the island? +Ollypybus is the king of half of it, anyway, and he knows it." + +"That's just it," said Stedman. "That's what frightens him. He said he +didn't care about Ollypybus, and didn't count him in when he made the +treaty, because he is such a peaceful chap that he knew he could thrash +him into doing anything he wanted him to do. And now that you have +turned up and taken Ollypybus's part, he wishes he hadn't sold the +island, and wishes to know if you are angry." + +"Angry? of course I'm angry," said Gordon, glaring as grimly at the +frightened monarch as he thought was safe. "Who wouldn't be angry? Who +do you think these people were who made a fool of him, Stedman? Ask him +to let us see this watch." + +Stedman did so, and the King fumbled among his necklaces until he had +brought out a leather bag tied round his neck with a cord, and +containing a plain stem-winding silver watch marked on the inside +"Munich." + +"That doesn't tell anything," said Gordon. "But it's plain enough. Some +foreign ship of war has settled on this place as a coaling-station, or +has annexed it for colonization, and they've sent a boat ashore, and +they've made a treaty with this old chap, and forced him to sell his +birthright for a mess of porridge. Now, that's just like those +monarchical pirates, imposing upon a poor old black." + +Old Bradley looked at him impudently. + +"Not at all," said Gordon; "it's quite different with us; we don't want +to rob him or Ollypybus, or to annex their land. All we want to do is to +improve it, and have the fun of running it for them and meddling in +their affairs of state. Well, Stedman," he said, "what shall we do?" + +Stedman said that the best and only thing to do was to threaten to take +the watch away from Messenwah, but to give him a revolver instead, which +would make a friend of him for life, and to keep him supplied with +cartridges only as long as he behaved himself, and then to make him +understand that, as Ollypybus had not given his consent to the loss of +the island, Messenwah's agreement, or treaty, or whatever it was, did +not stand, and that he had better come down the next day, early in the +morning, and join in a general consultation. This was done, and +Messenwah agreed willingly to their proposition, and was given his +revolver and shown how to shoot it, while the other presents were +distributed among the other men, who were as happy over them as girls +with a full dance-card. + +"And now, to-morrow," said Stedman, "understand, you are all to come +down unarmed, and sign a treaty with great Ollypybus, in which he will +agree to keep to one half of the island, if you keep to yours, and there +must be no more wars or goat stealing, or this gentleman on my right +and I will come up and put holes in you just as the gentleman on the +left did with the goat." + +Messenwah and his warriors promised to come early, and saluted +reverently as Gordon and his three companions walked up together very +proudly and stiffly. + +"Do you know how I feel?" said Gordon. + +"How?" asked Stedman. + +"I feel as I used to do in the city, when the boys in the street were +throwing snow-balls, and I had to go by with a high hat on my head and +pretend not to know they were behind me. I always felt a cold chill down +my spinal column, and I could feel that snow-ball, whether it came or +not, right in the small of my back. And I can feel one of those men +pulling his bow, now, and the arrow sticking out of my right shoulder." + +"Oh, no, you can't," said Stedman. "They are too much afraid of those +rifles. But I do feel sorry for any of those warriors whom old man +Massenwah doesn't like, now that he has that revolver. He isn't the sort +to practise on goats." + +There was great rejoicing when Stedman and Gordon told their story to +the King, and the people learned that they were not to have their huts +burned and their cattle stolen. The armed Opekians formed a guard around +the ambassadors and escorted them to their homes with cheers and shouts, +and the women ran at their side and tried to kiss Gordon's hand. + +"I'm sorry I can't speak the language, Stedman," said Gordon, "or I +would tell them what a brave man you are. You are too modest to do it +yourself, even if I dictated something for you to say. As for me," he +said, pulling off his uniform, "I am thoroughly disgusted and +disappointed. It never occurred to me until it was all over, that this +was my chance to be a war correspondent. It wouldn't have been much of a +war, but then I would have been the only one on the spot, and that +counts for a great deal. Still, my time may come." + +"We have a great deal on hand for to-morrow," said Gordon that evening, +"and we had better turn in early." + +And so the people were still singing and rejoicing down in the village, +when the two conspirators for the peace of the country went to sleep +for the night. It seemed to Gordon as though he had hardly turned his +pillow twice to get the coolest side, when some one touched him, and he +saw, by the light of the dozen glow-worms in the tumbler by his bedside, +a tall figure at its foot. + +"It's me--Bradley," said the figure. + +"Yes," said Gordon, with the haste of a man to show that sleep has no +hold on him; "exactly; what is it?" + +"There is a ship of war in the harbor," Bradley answered in a whisper. +"I heard her anchor chains rattle when she came to, and that woke me. I +could hear that if I were dead. And then I made sure by her lights; +she's a great boat, sir, and I can know she's a ship of war by the +challenging, when they change the watch. I thought you'd like to know, +sir." + +Gordon sat up and clutched his knees with his hands. "Yes, of course," +he said; "you are quite right. Still, I don't see what there is to do." + +He did not wish to show too much youthful interest, but though fresh +from civilization, he had learned how far from it he was, and he was +curious to see this sign of it that had come so much more quickly than +he had anticipated. + +"Wake Mr. Stedman, will you?" said he, "and we will go and take a look +at her." + +"You can see nothing but the lights," said Bradley, as he left the room; +"it's a black night, sir." + +Stedman was not new from the sight of men and ships of war, and came in +half dressed and eager. + +"Do you suppose it's the big canoe Messenwah spoke of?" he said. + +"I thought of that," said Gordon. + +The three men fumbled their way down the road to the plaza, and saw, as +soon as they turned into it, the great outlines and the brilliant lights +of an immense vessel, still more immense in the darkness, and glowing +like a strange monster of the sea, with just a suggestion here and +there, where the lights spread, of her cabins and bridges. As they stood +on the shore, shivering in the cool night wind, they heard the bells +strike over the water. + +"It's two o'clock," said Bradley, counting. + +"Well, we can do nothing, and they cannot mean to do much to-night," +Albert said. "We had better get some more sleep, and, Bradley, you keep +watch and tell us as soon as day breaks." + +"Aye, aye, sir," said the sailor. + +"If that's the man-of-war that made the treaty with Messenwah, and +Messenwah turns up to-morrow, it looks as if our day would be pretty +well filled up," said Albert, as they felt their way back to the +darkness. + +"What do you intend to do?" asked his secretary, with a voice of some +concern. + +"I don't know," Albert answered gravely, from the blackness of the +night. "It looks as if we were getting ahead just a little too fast; +doesn't it? Well," he added, as they reached the house, "let's try to +keep in step with the procession, even if we can't be drum-majors and +walk in front of it." And with this cheering tone of confidence in their +ears, the two diplomats went soundly asleep again. + +The light of the rising sun filled the room, and the parrots were +chattering outside, when Bradley woke him again. + +"They are sending a boat ashore, sir," he said excitedly, and filled +with the importance of the occasion. "She's a German man-of-war, and +one of the new model. A beautiful boat, sir; for her lines were laid in +Glasgow, and I can tell that, no matter what flag she flies. You had +best be moving to meet them: the village isn't awake yet." + +Albert took a cold bath and dressed leisurely; then he made Bradley, +Jr., who had slept through it all, get up breakfast, and the two young +men ate it and drank their coffee comfortably and with an air of +confidence that deceived their servants, if it did not deceive +themselves. But when they came down the path, smoking and swinging their +sticks, and turned into the plaza, their composure left them like a +mask, and they stopped where they stood. The plaza was enclosed by the +natives gathered in whispering groups, and depressed by fear and wonder. +On one side were crowded all the Messenwah warriors, unarmed, and as +silent and disturbed as the Opekians. In the middle of the plaza some +twenty sailors were busy rearing and bracing a tall flag-staff that they +had shaped from a royal palm, and they did this as unconcernedly and as +contemptuously, and with as much indifference to the strange groups on +either side of them, as though they were working on a barren coast, with +nothing but the startled sea-gulls about them. As Albert and Stedman +came upon the scene, the flag-pole was in place, and the halliards hung +from it with a little bundle of bunting at the end of one of them. + +"We must find the King at once," said Gordon. He was terribly excited +and angry. "It is easy enough to see what this means. They are going +through the form of annexing this island to the other lands of the +German government. They are robbing old Ollypybus of what is his. They +have not even given him a silver watch for it." + +The King was in his bungalow, facing the plaza. Messenwah was with him, +and an equal number of each of their councils. The common danger had +made them lie down together in peace; but they gave a murmur of relief +as Gordon strode into the room with no ceremony, and greeted them with a +curt wave of the hand. + +"Now then, Stedman, be quick," he said. "Explain to them what this +means; tell them that I will protect them; that I am anxious to see +that Ollypybus is not cheated; that we will do all we can for them." + +Outside, on the shore, a second boat's crew had landed a group of +officers and a file of marines. They walked in all the dignity of full +dress across the plaza to the flag-pole, and formed in line on the three +sides of it, with the marines facing the sea. The officers, from the +captain with a prayer book in his hand, to the youngest middy, were as +indifferent to the frightened natives about them as the other men had +been. The natives, awed and afraid, crouched back among their huts, the +marines and the sailors kept their eyes front, and the German captain +opened his prayer-book. The debate in the bungalow was over. + +"If you only had your uniform, sir," said Bradley, Sr., miserably. + +"This is a little bit too serious for uniforms and bicycle medals," said +Gordon. "And these men are used to gold lace." + +He pushed his way through the natives, and stepped confidently across +the plaza. The youngest middy saw him coming, and nudged the one next +him with his elbow, and he nudged the next, but none of the officers +moved, because the captain had begun to read. + +"One minute, please," called Gordon. + +He stepped out into the hollow square formed by the marines, and raised +his helmet to the captain. + +"Do you speak English or French?" Gordon said in French; "I do not +understand German." + +The captain lowered the book in his hands and gazed reflectively at +Gordon through his spectacles, and made no reply. + +"If I understand this," said the younger man, trying to be very +impressive and polite, "you are laying claim to this land, in behalf of +the German government." + +The captain continued to observe him thoughtfully, and then said, "That +iss so," and then asked, "Who are you?" + +"I represent the King of this island, Ollypybus, whose people you see +around you. I also represent the United States government that does not +tolerate a foreign power near her coast, since the days of President +Monroe and before. The treaty you have made with Messenwah is an +absurdity. There is only one king with whom to treat, and he--" + +The captain turned to one of his officers and said something, and then, +after giving another curious glance at Gordon, raised his book and +continued reading, in a deep, unruffled monotone. The officer whispered +an order, and two of the marines stepped out of line, and dropping the +muzzles of their muskets, pushed Gordon back out of the enclosure, and +left him there with his lips white, and trembling all over with +indignation. He would have liked to have rushed back into the lines and +broken the captain's spectacles over his sun-tanned nose and cheeks, but +he was quite sure this would only result in his getting shot, or in his +being made ridiculous before the natives, which was almost as bad; so he +stood still for a moment, with his blood choking him, and then turned +and walked back to where the King and Stedman were whispering together. +Just as he turned, one of the men pulled the halyards, the ball of +bunting ran up into the air, bobbed, twitched, and turned, and broke +into the folds of the German flag. At the same moment the marines raised +their muskets and fired a volley, and the officers saluted and the +sailors cheered. + +"Do you see that?" cried Stedman, catching Gordon's humor, to Ollypybus; +"that means that you are no longer king, that strange people are coming +here to take your land, and to turn your people into servants, and to +drive you back into the mountains. Are you going to submit? are you +going to let that flag stay where it is?" + +Messenwah and Ollypybus gazed at one another with fearful, helpless +eyes. "We are afraid," Ollypybus cried; "we do not know what we should +do." + +"What do they say?" + +"They say they do not know what to do." + +"I know what I'd do," cried Gordon. "If I were not an American consul, +I'd pull down their old flag, and put a hole in their boat and sink +her." + +"Well, I'd wait until they get under way, before you do either of those +things," said Stedman, soothingly. "That captain seems to be a man of +much determination of character." + +"But I will pull it down," cried Gordon. "I will resign, as Travis did. +I am no longer consul. You can be consul if you want to. I promote you. +I am going up a step higher. I mean to be king. Tell those two," he ran +on excitedly, "that their only course and only hope is in me; that they +must make me ruler of the island until this thing is over; that I will +resign again as soon as it is settled, but that some one must act at +once, and if they are afraid to, I am not, only they must give me +authority to act for them. They must abdicate in my favor." + +"Are you in earnest?" gasped Stedman. + +"Don't I talk as if I were?" demanded Gordon, wiping the perspiration +from his forehead. + +"And can I be consul?" said Stedman, cheerfully. + +"Of course. Tell them what I propose to do." + +Stedman turned and spoke rapidly to the two kings. The people gathered +closer to hear. + +The two rival monarchs looked at one another in silence for a moment, +and then both began to speak at once, their counsellors interrupting +them and mumbling their guttural comments with anxious earnestness. It +did not take them very long to see that they were all of one mind, and +then they both turned to Gordon and dropped on one knee, and placed his +hands on their foreheads, and Stedman raised his cap. + +"They agree," he explained, for it was but pantomime to Albert. "They +salute you as a ruler; they are calling you Tellaman, which means +peacemaker. The Peacemaker, that is your title. I hope you will deserve +it, but I think they might have chosen a more appropriate one." + +"Then I'm really King?" demanded Albert, decidedly, "and I can do what I +please? They give me full power. Quick, do they?" + +"Yes, but don't do it," begged Stedman, "and just remember I am American +consul now, and that is a much superior being to a crowned monarch; you +said so yourself." + +Albert did not reply to this, but ran across the plaza followed by the +two Bradleys. The boats had gone. + +"Hoist that flag beside the brass cannon," he cried, "and stand ready to +salute it when I drop this one." + +Bradley, Jr., grasped the halliards of the flag, which he had forgotten +to raise and salute in the morning in all the excitement of the arrival +of the man-of-war. Bradley, Sr., stood by the brass cannon, blowing +gently on his lighted fuse. The Peacemaker took the halliards of the +German flag in his two hands, gave a quick, sharp tug, and down came the +red, white, and black piece of bunting, and the next moment young +Bradley sent the stars and stripes up in their place. As it rose, +Bradley's brass cannon barked merrily like a little bull-dog, and the +Peacemaker cheered. + +"What don't you cheer, Stedman?" he shouted. "Tell those people to cheer +for all they are worth. What sort of an American consul are you?" + +Stedman raised his arm half-heartedly to give the time, and opened his +mouth; but his arm remained fixed and his mouth open, while his eyes +stared at the retreating boat of the German man-of-war. In the stern +sheets of this boat, the stout German captain was struggling unsteadily +to his feet; he raised his arm and waved it to some one on the great +man-of-war, as though giving an order. The natives looked from Stedman +to the boat, and even Gordon stopped in his cheering and stood +motionless, watching. They had not very long to wait. There was a puff +of white smoke, and a flash, and then a loud report, and across the +water came a great black ball skipping lightly through and over the +waves, as easily as a flat stone thrown by a boy. It seemed to come very +slowly. At least it came slowly enough for every one to see that it was +coming directly towards the brass cannon. The Bradleys certainly saw +this, for they ran as fast as they could, and kept on running. The ball +caught the cannon under its mouth, and tossed it in the air, knocking +the flag-pole into a dozen pieces, and passing on through two of the +palm-covered huts. + +"Great Heavens, Gordon!" cried Stedman; "they are firing on us." + +But Gordon's face was radiant and wild. + +"Firing on _us_!" he cried. "On _us_! Don't you see? Don't you +understand? What do _we_ amount to? They have fired on the American +flag. Don't you see what that means? It means war. A great international +war. And I am a war correspondent at last!" He ran up to Stedman and +seized him by the arm so tightly that it hurt. + +"By three o'clock," he said, "they will know in the office what has +happened. The country will know it to-morrow when the paper is on the +street; people will read it all over the world. The Emperor will hear of +it at breakfast; the President will cable for further particulars. He +will get them. It is the chance of a lifetime, and we are on the spot!" + +Stedman did not hear this; he was watching the broadside of the ship to +see another puff of white smoke, but there came no such sign. The two +row-boats were raised, there was a cloud of black smoke from the funnel, +a creaking of chains sounding faintly across the water, and the ship +started at half speed and moved out of the harbor. The Opekians and the +Hillmen fell on their knees, or to dancing, as best suited their sense +of relief, but Gordon shook his head. + +"They are only going to land the marines," he said; "perhaps they are +going to the spot they stopped at before, or to take up another position +further out at sea. They will land men and then shell the town, and the +land forces will march here and cooperate with the vessel, and everybody +will be taken prisoner or killed. We have the centre of the stage, and +we are making history." + +"I'd rather read it than make it," said Stedman. "You've got us in a +senseless, silly position, Gordon, and a mighty unpleasant one. And for +no reason that I can see, except to make copy for your paper." + +"Tell those people to get their things together," said Gordon, "and +march back out of danger into the woods. Tell Ollypybus I am going to +fix things all right; I don't know just how yet, but I will, and now +come after me as quickly as you can to the cable office. I've got to +tell the paper all about it." + +It was three o'clock before the "chap at Octavia" answered Stedman's +signalling. Then Stedman delivered Gordon's message, and immediately +shut off all connection, before the Octavia operator could question him. +Gordon dictated his message in this way:-- + +"Begin with the date line, 'Opeki, June 22.' + +"At seven o'clock this morning, the captain and officers of the German +man-of-war, _Kaiser_, went through the ceremony of annexing this island +in the name of the German Emperor, basing their right to do so on an +agreement made with a leader of a wandering tribe, known as the +Hillmen. King Ollypybus, the present monarch of Opeki, delegated his +authority, as also did the leader of the Hillmen, to King Tallaman, or +the Peacemaker, who tore down the German flag, and raised that of the +United States in its place. At the same moment the flag was saluted by +the battery. This salute, being mistaken for an attack on the _Kaiser_, +was answered by that vessel. Her first shot took immediate effect, +completely destroying the entire battery of the Opekians, cutting down +the American flag, and destroying the houses of the people--" + +"There was only one brass cannon and two huts," expostulated Stedman. + +"Well, that was the whole battery, wasn't it?" asked Gordon, "and two +huts is plural. I said houses of the people. I couldn't say two houses +of the people. Just you send this as you get it. You are not an American +consul at the present moment. You are an under-paid agent of a cable +company, and you send my stuff as I write it. The American residents +have taken refuge in the consulate--that's us," explained Gordon, "and +the English residents have sought refuge in the woods--that's the +Bradleys. King Tellaman--that's me--declares his intention of fighting +against the annexation. The forces of the Opekians are under the command +of Captain Thomas Bradley--I guess I might as well made him a +colonel--of Colonel Thomas Bradley, of the English army. + +"The American consul says--Now, what do you say, Stedman? Hurry up, +please," asked Gordon, "and say something good and strong." + +"You get me all mixed up," complained Stedman, plaintively. "Which am I +now, a cable operator or the American consul?" + +"Consul, of course. Say something patriotic and about your determination +to protect the interests of your government, and all that." Gordon bit +the end of his pencil impatiently, and waited. + +"I won't do anything of the sort, Gordon," said Stedman; "you are +getting me into an awful lot of trouble, and yourself too. I won't say a +word." + +"The American consul," read Gordon, as his pencil wriggled across the +paper, "refuses to say anything for publication until he has +communicated with the authorities at Washington, but from all I can +learn he sympathizes entirely with Tellaman. Your correspondent has just +returned from an audience with King Tellaman, who asks him to inform the +American people that the Monroe doctrine will be sustained as long as he +rules this island. I guess that's enough to begin with," said Gordon. +"Now send that off quick, and then get away from the instrument before +the man in Octavia begins to ask questions. I am going out to +precipitate matters." + +Gordon found the two kings sitting dejectedly side by side, and gazing +grimly upon the disorder of the village, from which the people were +taking their leave as quickly as they could get their few belongings +piled upon the ox-carts. Gordon walked amongst them, helping them in +every way he could, and tasting, in their subservience and gratitude, +the sweets of sovereignty. When Stedman had locked up the cable office +and rejoined him, he bade him tell Messenwah to send three of his +youngest men and fastest runners back to the hills to watch for the +German vessel and see where she was attempting to land her marines. + +"This is a tremendous chance for descriptive writing, Stedman," said +Gordon, enthusiastically, "all this confusion and excitement, and the +people leaving their homes and all that. It's like the people getting +out of Brussels before Waterloo, and then the scene at the foot of the +mountains, while they are camping out there, until the Germans leave. I +never had a chance like this before." + +It was quite dark by six o'clock, and none of the three messengers had +as yet returned. Gordon walked up and down the empty plaza and looked +now at the horizon for the man-of-war, and again down the road back of +the village. But neither the vessel nor the messengers, bearing word of +her, appeared. The night passed without any incident, and in the morning +Gordon's impatience became so great that he walked out to where the +villagers were in camp and passed on half way up the mountain, but he +could see no sign of the man-of-war. He came back more restless than +before, and keenly disappointed. + +"If something don't happen before three o'clock, Stedman," he said, "our +second cablegram will have to consist of glittering generalities and a +lengthy interview with King Tellaman, by himself." + +Nothing did happen. Ollypybus and Messenwah began to breathe more +freely. They believed the new king had succeeded in frightening the +German vessel away forever. But the new king upset their hopes by +telling them that the Germans had undoubtedly already landed, and had +probably killed the three messengers. + +"Now then," he said, with pleased expectation, as Stedman and he seated +themselves in the cable office at three o'clock, "open it up and let's +find out what sort of an impression we have made." + +Stedman's face, as the answer came in to his first message of greeting, +was one of strangely marked disapproval. + +"What does he say?" demanded Gordon, anxiously. + +"He hasn't done anything but swear yet," answered Stedman, grimly. + +"What is he swearing about?" + +"He wants to know why I left the cable yesterday. He says he has been +trying to call me up for the last twenty-four hours ever since I sent my +message at three o'clock The home office is jumping mad, and want me +discharged. They won't do that, though," he said, in a cheerful aside, +"because they haven't paid me my salary for the last eight months. He +says--great Scott! this will please you, Gordon--he says that there have +been over two hundred queries for matter from papers all over the United +States, and from Europe. Your paper beat them on the news, and now the +home office is packed with San Francisco reporters, and the telegrams +are coming in every minute, and they have been abusing him for not +answering them, and he says that I'm a fool. He wants as much as you can +send, and all the details. He says all the papers will have to put 'By +Yokohama Cable Company' on the top of each message they print, and that +that is advertising the company, and is sending the stock up. It rose +fifteen points on 'change in San Francisco to-day, and the president and +the other officers are buying--" + +"Oh, I don't want to hear about their old company," snapped out Gordon, +pacing up and down in despair. "What am I to do? that's what I want to +know. Here I have the whole country stirred up and begging for news. On +their knees for it, and a cable all to myself and the only man on the +spot, and nothing to say. I'd just like to know how long that German +idiot intends to wait before he begins shelling this town and killing +people. He has put me in a most absurd position." + +"Here's a message for you, Gordon," said Stedman, with business-like +calm. "Albert Gordon, Correspondent," he read: "Try American consul. +First message O.K.; beat the country; can take all you send. Give names +of foreign residents massacred, and fuller account blowing up palace. +Dodge." + +The expression on Gordon's face as this message was slowly read off to +him, had changed from one of gratified pride to one of puzzled +consternation. + +"What's he mean by foreign residents massacred, and blowing up of +palace?" asked Stedman, looking over his shoulder anxiously. "Who is +Dodge?" + +"Dodge is the night editor," said Gordon, nervously. "They must have +read my message wrong. You sent just what I gave you, didn't you?" he +asked. + +"Of course I did," said Stedman, indignantly. + +"I didn't say anything about the massacre of anybody, did I?" asked +Gordon. "I hope they are not improving on my account. What _am_ I to do? +This is getting awful. I'll have to go out and kill a few people myself. +Oh, why don't that Dutch captain begin to do something! What sort of a +fighter does he call himself? He wouldn't shoot at a school of +porpoises. He's not--" + +"Here comes a message to Leonard T. Travis, American consul, Opeki," +read Stedman. "It's raining messages to-day. 'Send full details of +massacre of American citizens by German sailors.' Secretary of--great +Scott!" gasped Stedman, interrupting himself and gazing at his +instrument with horrified fascination--"the Secretary of State." + +"That settles it," roared Gordon, pulling at his hair and burying his +face in his hands. "I have _got_ to kill some of them now." + +"Albert Gordon, Correspondent," read Stedman, impressively, like the +voice of Fate. "Is Colonel Thomas Bradley commanding native forces at +Opeki, Colonel Sir Thomas Kent-Bradley of Crimean war fame? +Correspondent London _Times_, San Francisco Press Club." + +"Go on, go on!" said Gordon, desperately. "I'm getting used to it now. +Go on!" + +"American consul, Opeki," read Stedman. "Home Secretary desires you to +furnish list of names English residents killed during shelling of Opeki +by ship of war _Kaiser_, and estimate of amount property destroyed. +Stoughton, British Embassy, Washington." + +"Stedman!" cried Gordon, jumping to his feet, "there's a mistake here +somewhere. These people cannot all have made my message read like that. +Some one has altered it, and now I have got to make these people here +live up to that message, whether they like being massacred and blown up +or not. Don't answer any of those messages, except the one from Dodge; +tell him things have quieted down a bit, and that I'll send four +thousand words on the flight of the natives from the village, and their +encampment at the foot of the mountains, and of the exploring party we +have sent out to look for the German vessel; and now I am going out to +make something happen." + +Gordon said that he would be gone for two hours at least, and as Stedman +did not feel capable of receiving any more nerve-stirring messages, he +cut off all connection with Octavia, by saying, "Good-by for two hours." +and running away from the office. He sat down on a rock on the beach, +and mopped his face with his handkerchief. + +"After a man has taken nothing more exciting than weather reports from +Octavia for a year," he soliloquized, "it's a bit disturbing to have all +the crowned heads of Europe and their secretaries calling upon you for +details of a massacre that never came off." + +At the end of two hours Gordon returned from the consulate with a mass +of manuscript in his hand. + +"Here's three thousand words," he said desperately. "I never wrote more +and said less in my life. It will make them weep at the office. I had to +pretend that they knew all that had happened so far; they apparently do +know more than we do, and I have filled it full of prophesies of more +trouble ahead, and with interviews with myself and the two ex-Kings. The +only news element in it is, that the messengers have returned to report +that the German vessel is not in sight, and that there is no news. They +think she has gone for good. Suppose she has, Stedman," he groaned, +looking at him helplessly, "what _am_ I going to do?" + +"Well, as for me," said Stedman, "I'm afraid to go near that cable. It's +like playing with a live wire. My nervous system won't stand many more +such shocks as those they gave us this morning." + +Gordon threw himself down dejectedly in a chair in the office, and +Stedman approached his instrument gingerly, as though it might explode. + +"He's swearing again," he explained sadly, in answer to Gordon's look of +inquiry. "He wants to know when I am going to stop running away from the +wire. He has a stack of messages to send, he says, but I guess he'd +better wait and take your copy first; don't you think so?" + +"Yes, I do," said Gordon. "I don't want any more messages than I've had. +That's the best I can do," he said, as he threw his manuscript down +beside Stedman. "And they can keep on cabling until the wire burns red +hot, and they won't get any more." + +There was silence in the office for some time, while Stedman looked over +Gordon's copy, and Gordon stared dejectedly out at the ocean. + +"This is pretty poor stuff, Gordon," said Stedman. "It's like giving +people milk when they want brandy." + +"Don't you suppose I know that?" growled Gordon. "It's the best I can +do, isn't it? It's not my fault that we are not all dead now. I can't +massacre foreign residents if there are no foreign residents, but I can +commit suicide though, and I'll do it if something don't happen." + +There was a long pause, in which the silence of the office was only +broken by the sound of the waves beating on the coral reefs outside. +Stedman raised his head wearily. + +"He's swearing again," he said; "he says this stuff of yours is all +nonsense. He says stock in the Y.C.C. has gone up to one hundred and +two, and that owners are unloading and making their fortunes, and that +this sort of descriptive writing is not what the company want." + +"What's he think I'm here for?" cried Gordon. "Does he think I pulled +down the German flag and risked my neck half a dozen times and had +myself made King just to boom his Yokohama cable stock? Confound him! +You might at least swear back. Tell him just what the situation is in a +few words. Here, stop that rigmarole to the paper, and explain to your +home office that we are awaiting developments, and that, in the +meanwhile, they must put up with the best we can send them. Wait; send +this to Octavia." + +Gordon wrote rapidly, and read what he wrote as rapidly as it was +written. + +"Operator, Octavia. You seem to have misunderstood my first message. The +facts in the case are these. A German man-of-war raised a flag on this +island. It was pulled down and the American flag raised in its place and +saluted by a brass cannon. The German man-of-war fired once at the flag +and knocked it down, and then steamed away and has not been seen since. +Two huts were upset, that is all the damage done; the battery consisted +of the one brass cannon before mentioned. No one, either native or +foreign, has been massacred. The English residents are two sailors. The +American residents are the young man who is sending you this cable and +myself. Our first message was quite true in substance, but perhaps +misleading in detail. I made it so because I fully expected much more +to happen immediately. Nothing has happened, or seems likely to happen, +and that is the exact situation up to date. Albert Gordon." + +"Now," he asked after a pause, "what does he say to that?" + +"He doesn't say anything," said Stedman. + +"I guess he has fainted. Here it comes," he added in the same breath. He +bent toward his instrument, and Gordon raised himself from his chair and +stood beside him as he read it off. The two young men hardly breathed in +the intensity of their interest. + +"Dear Stedman," he slowly read aloud. "You and your young friend are a +couple of fools. If you had allowed me to send you the messages awaiting +transmission here to you, you would not have sent me such a confession +of guilt as you have just done. You had better leave Opeki at once or +hide in the hills. I am afraid I have placed you in a somewhat +compromising position with the company, which is unfortunate, especially +as, if I am not mistaken, they owe you some back pay. You should have +been wiser in your day, and bought Y.C.C. stock when it was down to five +cents, as 'yours truly' did. You are not, Stedman, as bright a boy as +some. And as for your friend, the war correspondent, he has queered +himself for life. You see, my dear Stedman, after I had sent off your +first message, and demands for further details came pouring in, and I +could not get you at the wire to supply them, I took the liberty of +sending some on myself." + +"Great Heavens!" gasped Gordon. + +Stedman grew very white under his tan, and the perspiration rolled on +his cheeks. + +"Your message was so general in its nature, that it allowed my +imagination full play, and I sent on what I thought would please the +papers, and, what was much more important to me, would advertise the +Y.C.C. stock. This I have been doing while waiting for material from +you. Not having a clear idea of the dimensions or population of Opeki, +it is possible that I have done you and your newspaper friend some +injustice. I killed off about a hundred American residents, two hundred +English, because I do not like the English, and a hundred French. I blew +up old Ollypybus and his palace with dynamite, and shelled the city, +destroying some hundred thousand dollars' worth of property, and then I +waited anxiously for your friend to substantiate what I had said. This +he has most unkindly failed to do. I am very sorry, but much more so for +him than for myself, for I, my dear friend, have cabled on to a man in +San Francisco, who is one of the directors of the Y.C.C, to sell all my +stock, which he has done at one hundred and two, and he is keeping the +money until I come. And I leave Octavia this afternoon to reap my just +reward. I am in about twenty thousand dollars on your little war, and I +feel grateful. So much so that I will inform you that the ship of war +_Kaiser_ has arrived at San Francisco, for which port she sailed +directly from Opeki. Her captain has explained the real situation, and +offered to make every amend for the accidental indignity shown to our +flag. He says he aimed at the cannon, which was trained on his vessel, +and which had first fired on him. But you must know, my dear Stedman, +that before his arrival, war vessels belonging to the several powers +mentioned in my revised dispatches, had started for Opeki at full speed, +to revenge the butchery of the foreign residents. A word, my dear young +friend, to the wise is sufficient. I am indebted to you to the extent +of twenty thousand dollars, and in return I give you this kindly advice. +Leave Opeki. If there is no other way, swim. But leave Opeki." + +The sun, that night, as it sank below the line where the clouds seemed +to touch the sea, merged them both into a blazing, blood-red curtain, +and colored the most wonderful spectacle that the natives of Opeki had +ever seen. Six great ships of war, stretching out over a league of sea, +stood blackly out against the red background, rolling and rising, and +leaping forward, flinging back smoke and burning sparks up into the air +behind them, and throbbing and panting like living creatures in their +race for revenge. From the south, came a three-decked vessel, a great +island of floating steel, with a flag as red as the angry sky behind it, +snapping in the wind. To the south of it plunged two long low-lying +torpedo boats, flying the French tri-color, and still further to the +north towered three magnificent hulls of the White Squadron. Vengeance +was written on every curve and line, on each straining engine rod, and +on each polished gun muzzle. + +And in front of these, a clumsy fishing boat rose and fell on each +passing wave. Two sailors sat in the stern, holding the rope and tiller, +and in the bow, with their backs turned forever toward Opeki, stood two +young boys, their faces lit by the glow of the setting sun and stirred +by the sight of the great engines of war plunging past them on their +errand of vengeance. + +"Stedman," said the elder boy, in an awestruck whisper, and with a wave +of his hand, "we have not lived in vain." + + * * * * * + + + + +BOOKS BY RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. + + * * * * * + +GALLEGHER, + +AND OTHER STORIES. + +BY + +Richard Harding Davis. + + * * * * * + +==12mo. Cloth, $1.00; Paper, 50 cents.== + + * * * * * + +As pictures of human life in a great city, these ten stories are simply +unique.--_Newark Advertiser_. + +New York has a new meaning to his readers, as London has a new meaning +to the reader of Dickens.--_N.Y. Commercial Advertiser_. + +Mr. Davis is a writer of unquestioned genius. His sketches of city life +in the poorer districts have a force which makes them exceptionally +vivid and inspiring.--_Albany Express_. + +Ten remarkable newspaper and magazine stories. They will make capital +winter reading, and the book is one that will find a welcome +everywhere.--_N.Y. Journal of Commerce_. + +The freshness, the strength, and the vivid picturesqueness of the +stories are indisputable, and their originality and their marked +distinction are no less decided.--_Boston Saturday Gazette_. + +His figures stand forth clear cut, and marvellously truthful and +lifelike. Their wholesome tone is in grateful contrast to the false and +exaggerated note so often struck by young authors,--_Philadelphia +Ledger_. + + * * * * * + + + + +BOOKS BY RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. + + * * * * * + +STORIES FOR BOYS. + +BY + +RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. + + * * * * * + +WITH SIX FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. + + * * * * * + +12mo. Cloth, $1.00. + +Of intense interest. It will be very popular with all boys.--_Detroit +Tribune_. + +Crisp in style, and animated in incident. For a wholesome, hearty boy, +we can fancy no more entertaining volume.--_Newark Advertiser_. + +It will be astonishing, indeed, if youths of all ages are not fascinated +with these stories. Mr. Davis knows infallibly what will interest his +readers.--_Boston Beacon_. + +They are of manly sport and adventure, and, while of absorbing interest +to any boy, will at the same time inspire him with manliness, high +ideals, and courage.--_Boston Times_. + +There is the same keen sense of humor that is always present in his +writings, and the spirit of enthusiasm which will appeal to boys who +have a love of adventure and are interested in out-door +sports.--_Christian Inquirer_. + +All of them have genuine interest of plot, a hearty, breezy spirit of +youth and adventuresomeness which will captivate the special audience +they are addressed to, and will also charm older people.--_Hartford +Courant_. + + * * * * * + +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, + +743-745 Broadway, New York. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cinderella, by Richard Harding Davis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CINDERELLA *** + +***** This file should be named 16310.txt or 16310.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/3/1/16310/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Janet Blenkinship, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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