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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Consul, by Richard Harding Davis
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Consul
+
+Author: Richard Harding Davis
+
+Release Date: May, 1999 [eBook #1762]
+[Most recently updated: March 20, 2023]
+
+Language: English
+
+Produced by: Aaron Cannon and David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSUL ***
+
+
+
+
+THE CONSUL
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+
+For over forty years, in one part of the world or another, old man
+Marshall had, served his country as a United States consul. He had been
+appointed by Lincoln. For a quarter of a century that fact was his
+distinction. It was now his epitaph. But in former years, as each new
+administration succeeded the old, it had again and again saved his
+official head. When victorious and voracious place-hunters, searching
+the map of the world for spoils, dug out his hiding-place and demanded
+his consular sign as a reward for a younger and more aggressive party
+worker, the ghost of the dead President protected him. In the State
+Department, Marshall had become a tradition. “You can’t touch Him!” the
+State Department would say; “why, HE was appointed by Lincoln!”
+Secretly, for this weapon against the hungry headhunters, the
+department was infinitely grateful. Old man Marshall was a consul after
+its own heart. Like a soldier, he was obedient, disciplined; wherever
+he was sent, there, without question, he would go. Never against exile,
+against ill-health, against climate did he make complaint. Nor when he
+was moved on and down to make way for some ne’er-do-well with
+influence, with a brother-in-law in the Senate, with a cousin owning a
+newspaper, with rich relatives who desired him to drink himself to
+death at the expense of the government rather than at their own, did
+old man Marshall point to his record as a claim for more just
+treatment.
+
+And it had been an excellent record. His official reports, in a quaint,
+stately hand, were models of English; full of information, intelligent,
+valuable, well observed. And those few of his countrymen, who stumbled
+upon him in the out-of-the-world places to which of late he had been
+banished, wrote of him to the department in terms of admiration and
+awe. Never had he or his friends petitioned for promotion, until it was
+at last apparent that, save for his record and the memory of his dead
+patron, he had no friends. But, still in the department the tradition
+held and, though he was not advanced, he was not dismissed.
+
+“If that old man’s been feeding from the public trough ever since the
+Civil War,” protested a “practical” politician, “it seems to me, Mr.
+Secretary, that he’s about had his share. Ain’t it time he give some
+one else a bite? Some of us that has, done the work, that has borne the
+brunt——”
+
+“This place he now holds,” interrupted the Secretary of State suavely,
+“is one hardly commensurate with services like yours. I can’t pronounce
+the name of it, and I’m not sure just where it is, but I see that, of
+the last six consuls we sent there, three resigned within a month and
+the other three died of yellow-fever. Still, if you insist——”
+
+The practical politician reconsidered hastily. “I’m not the sort,” he
+protested, “to turn out a man appointed by our martyred President.
+Besides, he’s so old now, if the fever don’t catch him, he’ll die of
+old age, anyway.”
+
+The Secretary coughed uncomfortably. “And they say,” he murmured,
+“republics are ungrateful.”
+
+“I don’t quite get that,” said the practical politician.
+
+Of Porto Banos, of the Republic of Colombia, where as consul Mr.
+Marshall was upholding the dignity of the United States, little could
+be said except that it possessed a sure harbor. When driven from the
+Caribbean Sea by stress of weather, the largest of ocean tramps, and
+even battle-ships, could find in its protecting arms of coral a safe
+shelter. But, as young Mr. Aiken, the wireless operator, pointed out,
+unless driven by a hurricane and the fear of death, no one ever visited
+it. Back of the ancient wharfs, that dated from the days when Porto
+Banos was a receiver of stolen goods for buccaneers and pirates, were
+rows of thatched huts, streets, according to the season, of dust or
+mud, a few iron-barred, jail-like barracks, customhouses, municipal
+buildings, and the whitewashed adobe houses of the consuls. The
+backyard of the town was a swamp. Through this at five each morning a
+rusty engine pulled a train of flat cars to the base of the mountains,
+and, if meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into the swamp, at five
+in the evening brought back the flat cars laden with odorous
+coffee-sacks.
+
+In the daily life of Porto Banos, waiting for the return of the train,
+and betting if it would return, was the chief interest. Each night the
+consuls, the foreign residents, the wireless operator, the manager of
+the rusty railroad met for dinner. There at the head of the long table,
+by virtue of his years, of his courtesy and distinguished manner, of
+his office, Mr. Marshall presided. Of the little band of exiles he was
+the chosen ruler. His rule was gentle. By force of example he had made
+existence in Porto Banos more possible. For women and children Porto
+Banos was a death-trap, and before “old man Marshall” came there had
+been no influence to remind the enforced bachelors of other days.
+
+They had lost interest, had grown lax, irritable, morose. Their white
+duck was seldom white. Their cheeks were unshaven. When the sun sank
+into the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into a Turkish
+bath, they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Café Bolivar for
+drinks. The petty gambling led to petty quarrels; the drinks to fever.
+The coming of Mr. Marshall changed that. His standard of life, his
+tact, his worldly wisdom, his cheerful courtesy, his fastidious
+personal neatness shamed the younger men; the desire to please him, to,
+stand well in his good opinion, brought back pride and self-esteem.
+
+The lieutenant of her Majesty’s gun-boat _Plover_ noted the change.
+
+“Used to be,” he exclaimed, “you couldn’t get out of the Café Bolivar
+without some one sticking a knife in you; now it’s a debating club.
+They all sit round a table and listen to an old gentleman talk world
+politics.”
+
+If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos, there
+was little in return that Porto Banos could give to him. Magazines and
+correspondents in six languages kept him in touch with those foreign
+lands in which he had represented his country, but of the country he
+had represented, newspapers and periodicals showed him only too clearly
+that in forty years it had grown away from him, had changed beyond
+recognition.
+
+When last he had called at the State Department, he had been made to
+feel he was a man without a country, and when he visited his home town
+in Vermont, he was looked upon as a Rip Van Winkle. Those of his
+boyhood friends who were not dead had long thought of him as dead. And
+the sleepy, pretty village had become a bustling commercial centre. In
+the lanes where, as a young man, he had walked among wheatfields,
+trolley-cars whirled between rows of mills and factories. The children
+had grown to manhood, with children of their own.
+
+Like a ghost, he searched for house after house, where once he had been
+made welcome, only to find in its place a towering office building.
+“All had gone, the old familiar faces.” In vain he scanned even the
+shop fronts for a friendly, homelike name. Whether the fault was his,
+whether he would better have served his own interests than those of his
+government, it now was too late to determine. In his own home, he was a
+stranger among strangers. In the service he had so faithfully followed,
+rank by rank, he had been dropped, until now he, who twice had been a
+consul-general, was an exile, banished to a fever swamp. The great Ship
+of State had dropped him overside, had “marooned” him, and sailed away.
+
+Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Café Bolivar, and
+back again to the consulate. There, as he entered the outer office,
+José, the Colombian clerk, would rise and bow profoundly.
+
+“Any papers for me to sign, José?” the consul would ask.
+
+“Not to-day, Excellency,” the clerk would reply. Then José would return
+to writing a letter to his lady-love; not that there was any-thing to
+tell her, but because writing on the official paper of the consulate
+gave him importance in his eyes, and in hers. And in the inner office
+the consul would continue to gaze at the empty harbor, the empty coral
+reefs, the empty, burning sky.
+
+The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the wireless
+man came in late to announce that a Red D. boat and the island of
+Curaçao had both reported a hurricane coming north. Also, that much
+concern was felt for the safety of the yacht _Serapis_. Three days
+before, in advance of her coming, she had sent a wireless to
+Wilhelmstad, asking the captain of the port to reserve a berth for her.
+She expected to arrive the following morning.
+
+But for forty-eight hours nothing had been heard from her, and it was
+believed she had been overhauled by the hurricane. Owing to the
+presence on board of Senator Hanley, the closest friend of the new
+President, the man who had made him president, much concern was felt at
+Washington. To try to pick her up by wireless, the gun-boat _Newark_
+had been ordered from Culebra, the cruiser _Raleigh_, with Admiral
+Hardy on board, from Colon. It was possible she would seek shelter at
+Porto Banos. The consul was ordered to report.
+
+As Marshall wrote out his answer, the French consul exclaimed with
+interest:
+
+“He is of importance, then, this senator?” he asked. “Is it that in
+your country ships of war are at the service of a senator?”
+
+Aiken, the wireless operator, grinned derisively.
+
+“At the service of _this_ senator, they are!” he answered. “They call
+him the ‘king-maker,’ the man behind the throne.”
+
+“But in your country,” protested the Frenchman, “there is no throne. I
+thought your president was elected by the people?”
+
+“That’s what the people think,” answered Aiken. “In God’s country,” he
+explained, “the trusts want a rich man in the Senate, with the same
+interests as their own, to represent them. They chose Hanley. He picked
+out of the candidates for the presidency the man he thought would help
+the interests. He nominated him, and the people voted for him. Hanley
+is what we call a ‘boss.’”
+
+The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall.
+
+“The position of the boss is the more dangerous,” said Marshall
+gravely, “because it is unofficial, because there are no laws to
+curtail his powers. Men like Senator Hanley are a menace to good
+government. They see in public office only a reward for party workers.”
+
+“That’s right,” assented Aiken. “Your forty years’ service, Mr. Consul,
+wouldn’t count with Hanley. If he wanted your job, he’d throw you out
+as quick as he would a drunken cook.”
+
+Mr. Marshall flushed painfully, and the French consul hastened to
+interrupt.
+
+“Then, let us pray,” he exclaimed, with fervor, “that the hurricane has
+sunk the _Serapis_, and all on board.”
+
+Two hours later, the _Serapis_, showing she had met the hurricane and
+had come out second best, steamed into the harbor.
+
+Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone, of Washington. He once had
+been in the diplomatic service, and, as minister to The Hague, wished
+to return to it. In order to bring this about he had subscribed
+liberally to the party campaign fund.
+
+With him, among other distinguished persons, was the all-powerful
+Hanley. The kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise, in itself,
+demonstrated the ability of Livingstone as a diplomat. It was the
+opinion of many that it would surely lead to his appointment as a
+minister plenipotentiary. Livingstone was of the same opinion. He had
+not lived long in the nation’s capital without observing the value of
+propinquity. How many men he knew were now paymasters, and secretaries
+of legation, solely because those high in the government met them daily
+at the Metropolitan Club, and preferred them in almost any other place.
+And if, after three weeks as his guest on board what the newspapers
+called his floating palace, the senator could refuse him even the
+prize, legation of Europe, there was no value in modest merit. As yet,
+Livingstone had not hinted at his ambition. There was no need. To a
+statesman of Hanley’s astuteness, the largeness of Livingstone’s
+contribution to the campaign fund was self-explanatory.
+
+After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board the
+_Serapis_ seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto
+Banos, a compelling attraction. Before the anchors hit the water, they
+were in the launch. On reaching shore, they made at once for the
+consulate. There were many cables they wished to start on their way by
+wireless; cables to friends, to newspapers, to the government.
+
+José, the Colombian clerk, appalled by the unprecedented invasion of
+visitors, of visitors so distinguished, and Marshall, grateful for a
+chance to serve his fellow-countrymen, and especially his countrywomen,
+were ubiquitous, eager, indispensable. At José’s desk the great
+senator, rolling his cigar between his teeth, was using, to José’s
+ecstasy, José’s own pen to write a reassuring message to the White
+House. At the consul’s desk a beautiful creature, all in lace and
+pearls, was struggling to compress the very low opinion she held of a
+hurricane into ten words. On his knee, Henry Cairns, the banker, was
+inditing instructions to his Wall Street office, and upon himself
+Livingstone had taken the responsibility of replying to the inquiries
+heaped upon Marshall’s desk, from many newspapers.
+
+It was just before sunset, and Marshall produced his tea things, and
+the young person in pearls and lace, who was Miss Cairns, made tea for
+the women, and the men mixed gin and limes with tepid water. The consul
+apologized for proposing a toast in which they could not join. He
+begged to drink to those who had escaped the perils of the sea. Had
+they been his oldest and nearest friends, his little speech could not
+have been more heart-felt and sincere. To his distress, it moved one of
+the ladies to tears, and in embarrassment he turned to the men.
+
+“I regret there is no ice,” he said, “but you know the rule of the
+tropics; as soon as a ship enters port, the ice-machine bursts.”
+
+“I’ll tell the steward to send you some, sir,” said Livingstone, “and
+as long as we’re here.”
+
+The senator showed his concern.
+
+“As long as we’re here?” he gasped.
+
+“Not over two days,” answered the owner nervously. “The chief says it
+will take all of that to get her in shape. As you ought to know,
+Senator, she was pretty badly mauled.”
+
+The senator gazed blankly out of the window. Beyond it lay the naked
+coral reefs, the empty sky, and the ragged palms of Porto Banos.
+
+Livingstone felt that his legation was slipping from him.
+
+“That wireless operator,” he continued hastily, “tells me there is a
+most amusing place a few miles down the coast, Las Bocas, a sort of
+Coney Island, where the government people go for the summer. There’s
+surf bathing and roulette and cafes chantants. He says there’s some
+Spanish dancers——”
+
+The guests of the _Serapis_ exclaimed with interest; the senator
+smiled. To Marshall the general enthusiasm over the thought of a ride
+on a merry-go-round suggested that the friends of Mr. Livingstone had
+found their own society far from satisfying.
+
+Greatly encouraged, Livingstone continued, with enthusiasm:
+
+“And that wireless man said,” he added, “that with the launch we can
+get there in half an hour. We might run down after dinner.” He turned
+to Marshall.
+
+“Will you join us, Mr. Consul?” he asked, “and dine with us, first?”
+
+Marshall accepted with genuine pleasure. It had been many months since
+he had sat at table with his own people. But he shook his head
+doubtfully.
+
+“I was wondering about Las Bocas,” he explained, “if your going there
+might not get you in trouble at the next port. With a yacht, I think it
+is different, but Las Bocas is under quarantine.”
+
+There was a chorus of exclamations.
+
+“It’s not serious,” Marshall explained. “There was bubonic plague
+there, or something like it. You would be in no danger from that. It is
+only that you might be held up by the regulations. Passenger steamers
+can’t land any one who has been there at any other port of the West
+Indies. The English are especially strict. The Royal Mail won’t even
+receive any one on board here without a certificate from the English
+consul saying he has not visited Las Bocas. For an American they would
+require the same guarantee from me. But I don’t think the regulations
+extend to yachts. I will inquire. I don’t wish to deprive you of any of
+the many pleasures of Porto Banos,” he added, smiling, “but if you were
+refused a landing at your next port I would blame myself.”
+
+“It’s all right,” declared Livingstone decidedly. “It’s just as you
+say; yachts and warships are exempt. Besides, I carry my own doctor,
+and if he won’t give us a clean bill of health, I’ll make him walk the
+plank. At eight, then, at dinner. I’ll send the cutter for you. I can’t
+give you a salute, Mr. Consul, but you shall have all the side boys I
+can muster.”
+
+Those from the yacht parted from their consul in the most friendly
+spirit.
+
+“I think he’s charming!” exclaimed Miss Cairns. “And did you notice his
+novels? They were in every language. It must be terribly lonely down
+here, for a man like that.”
+
+“He’s the first of our consuls we’ve met on this trip,” growled her
+father, “that we’ve caught sober.”
+
+“Sober!” exclaimed his wife indignantly.
+
+“He’s one of the Marshalls of Vermont. I asked him.”
+
+“I wonder,” mused Hanley, “how much the place is worth? Hamilton, one
+of the new senators, has been deviling the life out of me to send his
+son somewhere. Says if he stays in Washington he’ll disgrace the
+family. I should think this place would drive any man to drink himself
+to death in three months, and young Hamilton, from what I’ve seen of
+him, ought to be able to do it in a week. That would leave the place
+open for the next man.”
+
+“There’s a postmaster in my State thinks he carried it.” The senator
+smiled grimly. “He has consumption, and wants us to give him a
+consulship in the tropics. I’ll tell him I’ve seen Porto Banos, and
+that it’s just the place for him.”
+
+The senator’s pleasantry was not well received. But Miss Cairns alone
+had the temerity to speak of what the others were thinking.
+
+“What would become of Mr. Marshall?” she asked. The senator smiled
+tolerantly.
+
+“I don’t know that I was thinking of Mr. Marshall,” he said. “I can’t
+recall anything he has done for this administration. You see, Miss
+Cairns,” he explained, in the tone of one addressing a small child,
+“Marshall has been abroad now for forty years, at the expense of the
+taxpayers. Some of us think men who have lived that long on their
+fellow-countrymen had better come home and get to work.”
+
+Livingstone nodded solemnly in assent. He did not wish a post abroad at
+the expense of the taxpayers. He was willing to pay for it. And then,
+with “ex-Minister” on his visiting cards, and a sense of duty well
+performed, for the rest of his life he could join the other expatriates
+in Paris.
+
+Just before dinner, the cruiser _Raleigh_ having discovered the
+whereabouts of the _Serapis_ by wireless, entered the harbor, and
+Admiral Hardy came to the yacht to call upon the senator, in whose
+behalf he had been scouring the Caribbean Seas. Having paid his
+respects to that personage, the admiral fell boisterously upon
+Marshall.
+
+The two old gentlemen were friends of many years. They had met,
+officially and unofficially, in many strange parts of the world. To
+each the chance reunion was a piece of tremendous good fortune. And
+throughout dinner the guests of Livingstone, already bored with each
+other, found in them and their talk of former days new and delightful
+entertainment. So much so that when, Marshall having assured them that
+the local quarantine regulations did not extend to a yacht, the men
+departed for Las Bocas, the women insisted that he and admiral remain
+behind.
+
+It was for Marshall a wondrous evening. To foregather with his old
+friend whom he had known since Hardy was a mad midshipman, to sit at
+the feet of his own charming countrywomen, to listen to their soft,
+modulated laughter, to note how quickly they saw that to him the
+evening was a great event, and with what tact each contributed to make
+it the more memorable; all served to wipe out the months of bitter
+loneliness, the stigma of failure, the sense of undeserved neglect. In
+the moonlight, on the cool quarter-deck, they sat, in a half-circle,
+each of the two friends telling tales out of school, tales of which the
+other was the hero or the victim, “inside” stories of great occasions,
+ceremonies, bombardments, unrecorded “shirt-sleeve” diplomacy.
+
+Hardy had helped to open the Suez Canal. Marshall had assisted the
+Queen of Madagascar to escape from the French invaders. On the Barbary
+Coast Hardy had chased pirates. In Edinburgh Marshall had played chess
+with Carlyle. He had seen Paris in mourning in the days of the siege,
+Paris in terror in the days of the Commune; he had known Garibaldi,
+Gambetta, the younger Dumas, the creator of Pickwick.
+
+“Do you remember that time in Tangier,” the admiral urged, “when I was
+a midshipman, and got into the bashaw’s harem?”
+
+“Do you remember how I got you out?” Marshall replied grimly.
+
+“And,” demanded Hardy, “do you remember when Adelina Patti paid a visit
+to the _Kearsarge_ at Marseilles in ’65—George Dewey was our second
+officer—and you were bowing and backing away from her, and you backed
+into an open hatch, and she said ‘my French isn’t up to it’ what was it
+she said?”
+
+“I didn’t hear it,” said Marshall; “I was too far down the hatch.”
+
+“Do you mean the old _Kearsarge?_” asked Mrs. Cairns. “Were you in the
+service then, Mr. Marshall?”
+
+With loyal pride in his friend, the admiral answered for him:
+
+“He was our consul-general at Marseilles!”
+
+There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination could
+not escape the contrast, could see in their mind’s eye the great harbor
+of Marseilles, crowded with the shipping of the world, surrounding it
+the beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north, and on the
+battleship the young consul-general making his bow to the young Empress
+of Song. And now, before their actual eyes, they saw the village of
+Porto Banos, a black streak in the night, a row of mud shacks, at the
+end of the wharf a single lantern yellow in the clear moonlight.
+
+Later in the evening Miss Cairns led the admiral to one side.
+
+“Admiral,” she began eagerly, “tell me about your friend. Why is he
+here? Why don’t they give him a place worthy of him? I’ve seen many of
+our representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste men
+like that.” The girl exclaimed indignantly: “He’s one of the most
+interesting men I’ve ever met! He’s lived everywhere, known every one.
+He’s a distinguished man, a cultivated man; even I can see he knows his
+work, that he’s a diplomat, born, trained, that he’s——” The admiral
+interrupted with a growl.
+
+“You don’t have to tell ME about Henry,” he protested. “I’ve known
+Henry twenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts,” he exclaimed hotly,
+“he wouldn’t be a consul on this coral reef; he’d be a minister in
+Europe. Look at me! We’re the same age. We started together. When
+Lincoln sent him to Morocco as consul, he signed my commission as a
+midshipman. Now I’m an admiral. Henry has twice my brains and he’s been
+a consul-general, and he’s _here_, back at the foot of the ladder!”
+
+“Why?” demanded the girl.
+
+“Because the navy is a service and the consular service isn’t a
+service. Men like Senator Hanley use it to pay their debts. While
+Henry’s been serving his country abroad, he’s lost his friends, lost
+his ‘pull.’ Those politicians up at Washington have no use for him.
+They don’t consider that a consul like Henry can make a million dollars
+for his countrymen. He can keep them from shipping goods where there’s
+no market, show them where there is a market.” The admiral snorted
+contemptuously. “You don’t have to tell ME the value of a good consul.
+But those politicians don’t consider that. They only see that he has a
+job worth a few hundred dollars, and they want it, and if he hasn’t
+other politicians to protect him, they’ll take it.” The girl raised her
+head.
+
+“Why don’t you speak to the senator?” she asked. “Tell him you’ve known
+him for years, that——”
+
+“Glad to do it!” exclaimed the admiral heartily. “It won’t be the first
+time. But Henry mustn’t know. He’s too confoundedly touchy. He hates
+the _idea_ of influence, hates men like Hanley, who abuse it. If he
+thought anything was given to him except on his merits, he wouldn’t
+take it.”
+
+“Then we won’t tell him,” said the girl. For a moment she hesitated.
+
+“If I spoke to Mr. Hanley,” she asked, “told him what I learned
+to-night of Mr. Marshall, would it have any effect?”
+
+“Don’t know how it will affect Hanley,” said the sailor, “but if you
+asked _me_ to make anybody a consul-general, I’d make him an
+ambassador.”
+
+Later in the evening Hanley and Livingstone were seated alone on deck.
+The visit to Las Bocas had not proved amusing, but, much to
+Livingstone’s relief, his honored guest was now in good-humor. He took
+his cigar from his lips, only to sip at a long cool drink. He was in a
+mood flatteringly confidential and communicative.
+
+“People have the strangest idea of what I can do for them,” he laughed.
+It was his pose to pretend he was without authority. “They believe I’ve
+only to wave a wand, and get them anything they want. I thought I’d be
+safe from them on board a yacht.”
+
+Livingstone, in ignorance of what was coming, squirmed apprehensively.
+
+“But it seems,” the senator went on, “I’m at the mercy of a conspiracy.
+The women folk want me to do something for this fellow Marshall. If
+they had their way, they’d send him to the Court of St. James. And old
+Hardy, too, tackled me about him. So did Miss Cairns. And then Marshall
+himself got me behind the wheel-house, and I thought he was going to
+tell me how good he was, too! But he didn’t.”
+
+As though the joke were on himself, the senator laughed appreciatively.
+
+“Told me, instead, that Hardy ought to be a vice-admiral.”
+
+Livingstone, also, laughed, with the satisfied air of one who cannot be
+tricked.
+
+“They fixed it up between them,” he explained, “each was to put in a
+good word for the other.” He nodded eagerly. “That’s what _I_ think.”
+
+There were moments during the cruise when Senator Hanley would have
+found relief in dropping his host overboard. With mock deference, the
+older man inclined his head.
+
+“That’s what _you_ think, is it?” he asked. “Livingstone,” he added,
+“you certainly are a great judge of men!”
+
+The next morning, old man Marshall woke with a lightness at his heart
+that had been long absent. For a moment, conscious only that he was
+happy, he lay between sleep and waking, frowning up at his canopy of
+mosquito net, trying to realize what change had come to him. Then he
+remembered. His old friend had returned. New friends had come into his
+life and welcomed him kindly. He was no longer lonely. As eager as a
+boy, he ran to the window. He had not been dreaming. In the harbor lay
+the pretty yacht, the stately, white-hulled war-ship. The flag that
+drooped from the stern of each caused his throat to tighten, brought
+warm tears to his eyes, fresh resolve to his discouraged, troubled
+spirit. When he knelt beside his bed, his heart poured out his thanks
+in gratitude and gladness.
+
+While he was dressing, a blue-jacket brought a note from the admiral.
+It invited him to tea on board the war-ship, with the guests of the
+_Serapis_. His old friend added that he was coming to lunch with his
+consul, and wanted time reserved for a long talk. The consul agreed
+gladly. He was in holiday humor. The day promised to repeat the good
+moments of the night previous.
+
+At nine o’clock, through the open door of the consulate, Marshall saw
+Aiken, the wireless operator, signaling from the wharf excitedly to the
+yacht, and a boat leave the ship and return. Almost immediately the
+launch, carrying several passengers, again made the trip shoreward.
+
+Half an hour later, Senator Hanley, Miss Cairns, and Livingstone came
+up the waterfront, and entering the consulate, seated themselves around
+Marshall’s desk. Livingstone was sunk in melancholy. The senator, on
+the contrary, was smiling broadly. His manner was one of distinct
+relief. He greeted the consul with hearty good-humor.
+
+“I’m ordered home!” he announced gleefully. Then, remembering the
+presence of Livingstone, he hastened to add: “I needn’t say how sorry I
+am to give up my yachting trip, but orders are orders. The President,”
+he explained to Marshall, “cables me this morning to come back and take
+my coat off.” The prospect, as a change from playing bridge on a
+pleasure boat, seemed far from depressing him.
+
+“Those filibusters in the Senate,” he continued genially, “are making
+trouble again. They think they’ve got me out of the way for another
+month, but they’ll find they’re wrong. When that bill comes up, they’ll
+find me at the old stand and ready for business!” Marshall did not
+attempt to conceal his personal disappointment.
+
+“I am so sorry you are leaving,” he said; “selfishly sorry, I mean. I’d
+hoped you all would be here for several days.” He looked inquiringly
+toward Livingstone.
+
+“I understood the _Serapis_ was disabled,” he explained.
+
+“She is,” answered Hanley. “So’s the _Raleigh_. At a pinch, the admiral
+might have stretched the regulations and carried me to Jamaica, but the
+_Raleigh’s_ engines are knocked about too. I’ve GOT to reach Kingston
+Thursday. The German boat leaves there Thursday for New York. At first
+it looked as though I couldn’t do it, but we find that the Royal Mail
+is due to-day, and she can get to Kingston Wednesday night. It’s a
+great piece of luck. I wouldn’t bother you with my troubles,” the
+senator explained pleasantly, “but the agent of the Royal Mail here
+won’t sell me a ticket until you’ve put your seal to this.” He extended
+a piece of printed paper.
+
+As Hanley had been talking, the face of the consul had grown grave. He
+accepted the paper, but did not look at it. Instead, he regarded the
+senator with troubled eyes. When he spoke, his tone was one of genuine
+concern.
+
+“It is most unfortunate,” he said. “But I am afraid the _Royal Mail_
+will not take you on board. Because of Las Bocas,” he explained. “If we
+had only known!” he added remorsefully. “It is _most_ unfortunate.”
+
+“Because of Las Bocas?” echoed Hanley.
+
+“You don’t mean they’ll refuse to take me to Jamaica because I spent
+half an hour at the end of a wharf listening to a squeaky gramophone?”
+
+“The trouble,” explained Marshall, “is this: if they carried you, all
+the other passengers would be held in quarantine for ten days, and
+there are fines to pay, and there would be difficulties over the mails.
+But,” he added hopefully, “maybe the regulations have been altered. I
+will see her captain, and tell him——”
+
+“See her captain!” objected Hanley. “Why see the captain? He doesn’t
+know I’ve been to that place. Why tell _him?_ All I need is a clean
+bill of health from you. That’s all HE wants. You have only to sign
+that paper.” Marshall regarded the senator with surprise.
+
+“But I can’t,” he said.
+
+“You can’t? Why not?”
+
+“Because it certifies to the fact that you have not visited Las Bocas.
+Unfortunately, you have visited Las Bocas.”
+
+The senator had been walking up and down the room. Now he seated
+himself, and stared at Marshall curiously.
+
+“It’s like this, Mr. Marshall,” he began quietly. “The President
+desires my presence in Washington, thinks I can be of some use to him
+there in helping carry out certain party measures—measures to which he
+pledged himself before his election. Down here, a British steamship
+line has laid down local rules which, in my case anyway, are
+ridiculous. The question is, are you going to be bound by the red tape
+of a ha’penny British colony, or by your oath to the President of the
+United States?”
+
+The sophistry amused Marshall. He smiled good-naturedly and shook his
+head.
+
+“I’m afraid, Senator,” he said, “that way of putting it is hardly fair.
+Unfortunately, the question is one of fact. I will explain to the
+captain——”
+
+“You will explain nothing to the captain!” interrupted Hanley. “This is
+a matter which concerns no one but our two selves. I am not asking
+favors of steamboat captains. I am asking an American consul to assist
+an American citizen in trouble, and,” he added, with heavy sarcasm,
+“incidentally, to carry out the wishes of his President.”
+
+Marshall regarded the senator with an expression of both surprise and
+disbelief.
+
+“Are you asking me to put my name to what is not so?” he said. “Are you
+serious?”
+
+“That paper, Mr. Marshall,” returned Hanley steadily, “is a mere form,
+a piece of red tape. There’s no more danger of my carrying the plague
+to Jamaica than of my carrying a dynamite bomb. You _know_ that.”
+
+“I _do_ know that,” assented Marshall heartily. “I appreciate your
+position, and I regret it exceedingly. You are the innocent victim of a
+regulation which is a wise regulation, but which is most unfair to you.
+My own position,” he added, “is not important, but you can believe me,
+it is not easy. It is certainly no pleasure for me to be unable to help
+you.”
+
+Hanley was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes watching
+Marshall closely. “Then you refuse?” he said. “Why?”
+
+Marshall regarded the senator steadily. His manner was untroubled. The
+look he turned upon Hanley was one of grave disapproval.
+
+“You know why,” he answered quietly. “It is impossible.”
+
+In sudden anger Hanley rose. Marshall, who had been seated behind his
+desk, also rose. For a moment, in silence, the two men confronted each
+other. Then Hanley spoke; his tone was harsh and threatening.
+
+“Then I am to understand,” he exclaimed, “that you refuse to carry out
+the wishes of a United States Senator and of the President of the
+United States?”
+
+[Illustration: “Then I am to understand,” he exclaimed, “that you
+refuse to carry out the wishes of a United States Senator and of the
+President of the United States?”]
+
+
+In front of Marshall, on his desk, was the little iron stamp of the
+consulate. Protectingly, almost caressingly, he laid his hand upon it.
+
+“I refuse,” he corrected, “to place the seal of this consulate on a
+lie.”
+
+There was a moment’s pause. Miss Cairns, unwilling to remain, and
+unable to withdraw, clasped her hands unhappily and stared at the
+floor. Livingstone exclaimed in indignant protest. Hanley moved a step
+nearer and, to emphasize what he said, tapped his knuckles on the desk.
+With the air of one confident of his advantage, he spoke slowly and
+softly.
+
+“Do you appreciate,” he asked, “that, while you may be of some
+importance down here in this fever swamp, in Washington I am supposed
+to carry some weight? Do you appreciate that I am a senator from a
+State that numbers four millions of people, and that you are preventing
+me from serving those people?” Marshall inclined his head gravely and
+politely.
+
+“And I want you to appreciate,” he said, “that while I have no weight
+at Washington, in this fever swamp I have the honor to represent eighty
+millions of people, and as long as that consular sign is over my door I
+don’t intend to prostitute it for _you_, or the President of the United
+States, or any one of those eighty millions.”
+
+Of the two men, the first to lower his eyes was Hanley. He laughed
+shortly, and walked to the door. There he turned, and indifferently, as
+though the incident no longer interested him, drew out his watch.
+
+“Mr. Marshall,” he said, “if the cable is working, I’ll take your tin
+sign away from you by sunset.”
+
+For one of Marshall’s traditions, to such a speech there was no answer
+save silence. He bowed, and, apparently serene and undismayed, resumed
+his seat. From the contest, judging from the manner of each, it was
+Marshall, not Hanley, who had emerged victorious.
+
+But Miss Cairns was not deceived. Under the unexpected blow, Marshall
+had turned older. His clear blue eyes had grown less alert, his broad
+shoulders seemed to stoop. In sympathy, her own eyes filled with sudden
+tears.
+
+“What will you do?” she whispered.
+
+“I don’t know what I shall do,” said Marshall simply. “I should have
+liked to have resigned. It’s a prettier finish. After forty years—to be
+dismissed by cable is—it’s a poor way of ending it.”
+
+Miss Cairns rose and walked to the door. There she turned and looked
+back.
+
+“I am sorry,” she said. And both understood that in saying no more than
+that she had best shown her sympathy.
+
+An hour later the sympathy of Admiral Hardy was expressed more
+directly.
+
+“If he comes on board my ship,” roared that gentleman, “I’ll push him
+down an ammunition hoist and break his damned neck!”
+
+Marshall laughed delightedly. The loyalty of his old friend was never
+so welcome.
+
+“You’ll treat him with every courtesy,” he said. “The only satisfaction
+he gets out of this is to see that he has hurt me. We will not give him
+that satisfaction.”
+
+But Marshall found that to conceal his wound was more difficult than he
+had anticipated. When, at tea time, on the deck of the war-ship, he
+again met Senator Hanley and the guests of the _Serapis_, he could not
+forget that his career had come to an end. There was much to remind him
+that this was so. He was made aware of it by the sad, sympathetic
+glances of the women; by their tactful courtesies; by the fact that
+Livingstone, anxious to propitiate Hanley, treated him rudely; by the
+sight of the young officers, each just starting upon a career of honor,
+and possible glory, as his career ended in humiliation; and by the big
+war-ship herself, that recalled certain crises when he had only to
+press a button and war-ships had come at his bidding.
+
+At five o’clock there was an awkward moment. The Royal Mail boat,
+having taken on her cargo, passed out of the harbor on her way to
+Jamaica, and dipped her colors. Senator Hanley, abandoned to his fate,
+observed her departure in silence.
+
+Livingstone, hovering at his side, asked sympathetically: “Have they
+answered your cable, sir?”
+
+“They have,” said Hanley gruffly.
+
+“Was it—was it satisfactory?” pursued the diplomat.
+
+“It _was_,” said the senator, with emphasis.
+
+Far from discouraged, Livingstone continued his inquiries.
+
+“And when,” he asked eagerly, “are you going to tell him?”
+
+“Now!” said the senator.
+
+The guests were leaving the ship. When all were seated in the admiral’s
+steam launch, the admiral descended the accommodation ladder and
+himself picked up the tiller ropes.
+
+“Mr. Marshall,” he called, “when I bring the launch broadside to the
+ship and stop her, you will stand ready to receive the consul’s
+salute.”
+
+Involuntarily, Marshall uttered an exclamation of protest. He had
+forgotten that on leaving the war-ship, as consul, he was entitled to
+seven guns. Had he remembered, he would have insisted that the ceremony
+be omitted. He knew that the admiral wished to show his loyalty, knew
+that his old friend was now paying him this honor only as a rebuke to
+Hanley. But the ceremony was no longer an honor. Hanley had made of it
+a mockery. It served only to emphasize what had been taken from him.
+But, without a scene, it now was too late to avoid it. The first of the
+seven guns had roared from the bow, and, as often he had stood before,
+as never he would so stand again, Marshall took his place at the
+gangway of the launch. His eyes were fixed on the flag, his gray head
+was uncovered, his hat was pressed above his heart.
+
+For the first time since Hanley had left the consulate, he fell into
+sudden terror lest he might give way to his emotions. Indignant at the
+thought, he held himself erect. His face was set like a mask, his eyes
+were untroubled. He was determined they should not see that he was
+suffering.
+
+Another gun spat out a burst of white smoke, a stab of flame. There was
+an echoing roar. Another and another followed. Marshall counted seven,
+and then, with a bow to the admiral, backed from the gangway.
+
+And then another gun shattered the hot, heavy silence. Marshall,
+confused, embarrassed, assuming he had counted wrong, hastily returned
+to his place. But again before he could leave it, in savage haste a
+ninth gun roared out its greeting. He could not still be mistaken. He
+turned appealingly to his friend. The eyes of the admiral were fixed
+upon the war-ship. Again a gun shattered the silence. Was it a jest?
+Were they laughing at him? Marshall flushed miserably. He gave a swift
+glance toward the others. They were smiling. Then it _was_ a jest.
+Behind his back, something of which they all were cognizant was going
+forward. The face of Livingstone alone betrayed a like bewilderment to
+his own. But the others, who knew, were mocking him.
+
+For the thirteenth time a gun shook the brooding swamp land of Porto
+Banos. And then, and not until then, did the flag crawl slowly from the
+mast-head. Mary Cairns broke the tenseness by bursting into tears. But
+Marshall saw that every one else, save she and Livingstone, were still
+smiling. Even the bluejackets in charge of the launch were grinning at
+him. He was beset by smiling faces. And then from the war-ship,
+unchecked, came, against all regulations, three long, splendid cheers.
+
+Marshall felt his lips quivering, the warm tears forcing their way to
+his eyes. He turned beseechingly to his friend. His voice trembled.
+
+“Charles,” he begged, “are they laughing at me?”
+
+Eagerly, before the other would answer, Senator Hanley tossed his cigar
+into the water and, scrambling forward, seized Marshall by the hand.
+
+“Mr. Marshall,” he cried, “our President has great faith in Abraham
+Lincoln’s judgment of men. And this salute means that this morning he
+appointed you our new minister to The Hague. I’m one of those
+politicians who keeps his word. I _told_ you I’d take your tin sign
+away from you by sunset. I’ve done it!”
+
+
+
+
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Consul, by Richard Harding Davis</div>
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+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Consul</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Richard Harding Davis</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May, 1999 [eBook #1762]<br />
+[Most recently updated: March 20, 2023]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Aaron Cannon and David Widger</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSUL ***</div>
+
+<h1>THE CONSUL</h1>
+
+<h2 class="no-break">by Richard Harding Davis</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p>
+For over forty years, in one part of the world or another, old man Marshall
+had, served his country as a United States consul. He had been appointed by
+Lincoln. For a quarter of a century that fact was his distinction. It was now
+his epitaph. But in former years, as each new administration succeeded the old,
+it had again and again saved his official head. When victorious and voracious
+place-hunters, searching the map of the world for spoils, dug out his
+hiding-place and demanded his consular sign as a reward for a younger and more
+aggressive party worker, the ghost of the dead President protected him. In the
+State Department, Marshall had become a tradition. “You can’t touch Him!” the
+State Department would say; “why, <small>HE</small> was appointed by Lincoln!”
+Secretly, for this weapon against the hungry headhunters, the department was
+infinitely grateful. Old man Marshall was a consul after its own heart. Like a
+soldier, he was obedient, disciplined; wherever he was sent, there, without
+question, he would go. Never against exile, against ill-health, against climate
+did he make complaint. Nor when he was moved on and down to make way for some
+ne’er-do-well with influence, with a brother-in-law in the Senate, with a
+cousin owning a newspaper, with rich relatives who desired him to drink himself
+to death at the expense of the government rather than at their own, did old man
+Marshall point to his record as a claim for more just treatment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And it had been an excellent record. His official reports, in a quaint, stately
+hand, were models of English; full of information, intelligent, valuable, well
+observed. And those few of his countrymen, who stumbled upon him in the
+out-of-the-world places to which of late he had been banished, wrote of him to
+the department in terms of admiration and awe. Never had he or his friends
+petitioned for promotion, until it was at last apparent that, save for his
+record and the memory of his dead patron, he had no friends. But, still in the
+department the tradition held and, though he was not advanced, he was not
+dismissed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If that old man’s been feeding from the public trough ever since the Civil
+War,” protested a “practical” politician, “it seems to me, Mr. Secretary, that
+he’s about had his share. Ain’t it time he give some one else a bite? Some of
+us that has, done the work, that has borne the brunt——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“This place he now holds,” interrupted the Secretary of State suavely, “is one
+hardly commensurate with services like yours. I can’t pronounce the name of it,
+and I’m not sure just where it is, but I see that, of the last six consuls we
+sent there, three resigned within a month and the other three died of
+yellow-fever. Still, if you insist——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The practical politician reconsidered hastily. “I’m not the sort,” he
+protested, “to turn out a man appointed by our martyred President. Besides,
+he’s so old now, if the fever don’t catch him, he’ll die of old age, anyway.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Secretary coughed uncomfortably. “And they say,” he murmured, “republics
+are ungrateful.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I don’t quite get that,” said the practical politician.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of Porto Banos, of the Republic of Colombia, where as consul Mr. Marshall was
+upholding the dignity of the United States, little could be said except that it
+possessed a sure harbor. When driven from the Caribbean Sea by stress of
+weather, the largest of ocean tramps, and even battle-ships, could find in its
+protecting arms of coral a safe shelter. But, as young Mr. Aiken, the wireless
+operator, pointed out, unless driven by a hurricane and the fear of death, no
+one ever visited it. Back of the ancient wharfs, that dated from the days when
+Porto Banos was a receiver of stolen goods for buccaneers and pirates, were
+rows of thatched huts, streets, according to the season, of dust or mud, a few
+iron-barred, jail-like barracks, customhouses, municipal buildings, and the
+whitewashed adobe houses of the consuls. The backyard of the town was a swamp.
+Through this at five each morning a rusty engine pulled a train of flat cars to
+the base of the mountains, and, if meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into
+the swamp, at five in the evening brought back the flat cars laden with odorous
+coffee-sacks.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the daily life of Porto Banos, waiting for the return of the train, and
+betting if it would return, was the chief interest. Each night the consuls, the
+foreign residents, the wireless operator, the manager of the rusty railroad met
+for dinner. There at the head of the long table, by virtue of his years, of his
+courtesy and distinguished manner, of his office, Mr. Marshall presided. Of the
+little band of exiles he was the chosen ruler. His rule was gentle. By force of
+example he had made existence in Porto Banos more possible. For women and
+children Porto Banos was a death-trap, and before “old man Marshall” came there
+had been no influence to remind the enforced bachelors of other days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had lost interest, had grown lax, irritable, morose. Their white duck was
+seldom white. Their cheeks were unshaven. When the sun sank into the swamp and
+the heat still turned Porto Banos into a Turkish bath, they threw dice on the
+greasy tables of the Café Bolivar for drinks. The petty gambling led to petty
+quarrels; the drinks to fever. The coming of Mr. Marshall changed that. His
+standard of life, his tact, his worldly wisdom, his cheerful courtesy, his
+fastidious personal neatness shamed the younger men; the desire to please him,
+to, stand well in his good opinion, brought back pride and self-esteem.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lieutenant of her Majesty’s gun-boat <i>Plover</i> noted the change.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Used to be,” he exclaimed, “you couldn’t get out of the Café Bolivar without
+some one sticking a knife in you; now it’s a debating club. They all sit round
+a table and listen to an old gentleman talk world politics.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos, there was
+little in return that Porto Banos could give to him. Magazines and
+correspondents in six languages kept him in touch with those foreign lands in
+which he had represented his country, but of the country he had represented,
+newspapers and periodicals showed him only too clearly that in forty years it
+had grown away from him, had changed beyond recognition.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When last he had called at the State Department, he had been made to feel he
+was a man without a country, and when he visited his home town in Vermont, he
+was looked upon as a Rip Van Winkle. Those of his boyhood friends who were not
+dead had long thought of him as dead. And the sleepy, pretty village had become
+a bustling commercial centre. In the lanes where, as a young man, he had walked
+among wheatfields, trolley-cars whirled between rows of mills and factories.
+The children had grown to manhood, with children of their own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Like a ghost, he searched for house after house, where once he had been made
+welcome, only to find in its place a towering office building. “All had gone,
+the old familiar faces.” In vain he scanned even the shop fronts for a
+friendly, homelike name. Whether the fault was his, whether he would better
+have served his own interests than those of his government, it now was too late
+to determine. In his own home, he was a stranger among strangers. In the
+service he had so faithfully followed, rank by rank, he had been dropped, until
+now he, who twice had been a consul-general, was an exile, banished to a fever
+swamp. The great Ship of State had dropped him overside, had “marooned” him,
+and sailed away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Café Bolivar, and back again
+to the consulate. There, as he entered the outer office, José, the Colombian
+clerk, would rise and bow profoundly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Any papers for me to sign, José?” the consul would ask.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Not to-day, Excellency,” the clerk would reply. Then José would return to
+writing a letter to his lady-love; not that there was any-thing to tell her,
+but because writing on the official paper of the consulate gave him importance
+in his eyes, and in hers. And in the inner office the consul would continue to
+gaze at the empty harbor, the empty coral reefs, the empty, burning sky.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the wireless man came
+in late to announce that a Red D. boat and the island of Curaçao had both
+reported a hurricane coming north. Also, that much concern was felt for the
+safety of the yacht <i>Serapis</i>. Three days before, in advance of her
+coming, she had sent a wireless to Wilhelmstad, asking the captain of the port
+to reserve a berth for her. She expected to arrive the following morning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But for forty-eight hours nothing had been heard from her, and it was believed
+she had been overhauled by the hurricane. Owing to the presence on board of
+Senator Hanley, the closest friend of the new President, the man who had made
+him president, much concern was felt at Washington. To try to pick her up by
+wireless, the gun-boat <i>Newark</i> had been ordered from Culebra, the cruiser
+<i>Raleigh</i>, with Admiral Hardy on board, from Colon. It was possible she
+would seek shelter at Porto Banos. The consul was ordered to report.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Marshall wrote out his answer, the French consul exclaimed with interest:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He is of importance, then, this senator?” he asked. “Is it that in your
+country ships of war are at the service of a senator?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aiken, the wireless operator, grinned derisively.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“At the service of <i>this</i> senator, they are!” he answered. “They call him
+the ‘king-maker,’ the man behind the throne.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“But in your country,” protested the Frenchman, “there is no throne. I thought
+your president was elected by the people?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That’s what the people think,” answered Aiken. “In God’s country,” he
+explained, “the trusts want a rich man in the Senate, with the same interests
+as their own, to represent them. They chose Hanley. He picked out of the
+candidates for the presidency the man he thought would help the interests. He
+nominated him, and the people voted for him. Hanley is what we call a ‘boss.’”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The position of the boss is the more dangerous,” said Marshall gravely,
+“because it is unofficial, because there are no laws to curtail his powers. Men
+like Senator Hanley are a menace to good government. They see in public office
+only a reward for party workers.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That’s right,” assented Aiken. “Your forty years’ service, Mr. Consul,
+wouldn’t count with Hanley. If he wanted your job, he’d throw you out as quick
+as he would a drunken cook.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. Marshall flushed painfully, and the French consul hastened to interrupt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Then, let us pray,” he exclaimed, with fervor, “that the hurricane has sunk
+the <i>Serapis</i>, and all on board.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two hours later, the <i>Serapis</i>, showing she had met the hurricane and had
+come out second best, steamed into the harbor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone, of Washington. He once had been in the
+diplomatic service, and, as minister to The Hague, wished to return to it. In
+order to bring this about he had subscribed liberally to the party campaign
+fund.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With him, among other distinguished persons, was the all-powerful Hanley. The
+kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise, in itself, demonstrated the ability of
+Livingstone as a diplomat. It was the opinion of many that it would surely lead
+to his appointment as a minister plenipotentiary. Livingstone was of the same
+opinion. He had not lived long in the nation’s capital without observing the
+value of propinquity. How many men he knew were now paymasters, and secretaries
+of legation, solely because those high in the government met them daily at the
+Metropolitan Club, and preferred them in almost any other place. And if, after
+three weeks as his guest on board what the newspapers called his floating
+palace, the senator could refuse him even the prize, legation of Europe, there
+was no value in modest merit. As yet, Livingstone had not hinted at his
+ambition. There was no need. To a statesman of Hanley’s astuteness, the
+largeness of Livingstone’s contribution to the campaign fund was
+self-explanatory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board the
+<i>Serapis</i> seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto Banos, a
+compelling attraction. Before the anchors hit the water, they were in the
+launch. On reaching shore, they made at once for the consulate. There were many
+cables they wished to start on their way by wireless; cables to friends, to
+newspapers, to the government.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+José, the Colombian clerk, appalled by the unprecedented invasion of visitors,
+of visitors so distinguished, and Marshall, grateful for a chance to serve his
+fellow-countrymen, and especially his countrywomen, were ubiquitous, eager,
+indispensable. At José’s desk the great senator, rolling his cigar between his
+teeth, was using, to José’s ecstasy, José’s own pen to write a reassuring
+message to the White House. At the consul’s desk a beautiful creature, all in
+lace and pearls, was struggling to compress the very low opinion she held of a
+hurricane into ten words. On his knee, Henry Cairns, the banker, was inditing
+instructions to his Wall Street office, and upon himself Livingstone had taken
+the responsibility of replying to the inquiries heaped upon Marshall’s desk,
+from many newspapers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was just before sunset, and Marshall produced his tea things, and the young
+person in pearls and lace, who was Miss Cairns, made tea for the women, and the
+men mixed gin and limes with tepid water. The consul apologized for proposing a
+toast in which they could not join. He begged to drink to those who had escaped
+the perils of the sea. Had they been his oldest and nearest friends, his little
+speech could not have been more heart-felt and sincere. To his distress, it
+moved one of the ladies to tears, and in embarrassment he turned to the men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I regret there is no ice,” he said, “but you know the rule of the tropics; as
+soon as a ship enters port, the ice-machine bursts.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’ll tell the steward to send you some, sir,” said Livingstone, “and as long
+as we’re here.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The senator showed his concern.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“As long as we’re here?” he gasped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Not over two days,” answered the owner nervously. “The chief says it will take
+all of that to get her in shape. As you ought to know, Senator, she was pretty
+badly mauled.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The senator gazed blankly out of the window. Beyond it lay the naked coral
+reefs, the empty sky, and the ragged palms of Porto Banos.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Livingstone felt that his legation was slipping from him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That wireless operator,” he continued hastily, “tells me there is a most
+amusing place a few miles down the coast, Las Bocas, a sort of Coney Island,
+where the government people go for the summer. There’s surf bathing and
+roulette and cafes chantants. He says there’s some Spanish dancers——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The guests of the <i>Serapis</i> exclaimed with interest; the senator smiled.
+To Marshall the general enthusiasm over the thought of a ride on a
+merry-go-round suggested that the friends of Mr. Livingstone had found their
+own society far from satisfying.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Greatly encouraged, Livingstone continued, with enthusiasm:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And that wireless man said,” he added, “that with the launch we can get there
+in half an hour. We might run down after dinner.” He turned to Marshall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Will you join us, Mr. Consul?” he asked, “and dine with us, first?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Marshall accepted with genuine pleasure. It had been many months since he had
+sat at table with his own people. But he shook his head doubtfully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I was wondering about Las Bocas,” he explained, “if your going there might not
+get you in trouble at the next port. With a yacht, I think it is different, but
+Las Bocas is under quarantine.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a chorus of exclamations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s not serious,” Marshall explained. “There was bubonic plague there, or
+something like it. You would be in no danger from that. It is only that you
+might be held up by the regulations. Passenger steamers can’t land any one who
+has been there at any other port of the West Indies. The English are especially
+strict. The Royal Mail won’t even receive any one on board here without a
+certificate from the English consul saying he has not visited Las Bocas. For an
+American they would require the same guarantee from me. But I don’t think the
+regulations extend to yachts. I will inquire. I don’t wish to deprive you of
+any of the many pleasures of Porto Banos,” he added, smiling, “but if you were
+refused a landing at your next port I would blame myself.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s all right,” declared Livingstone decidedly. “It’s just as you say; yachts
+and warships are exempt. Besides, I carry my own doctor, and if he won’t give
+us a clean bill of health, I’ll make him walk the plank. At eight, then, at
+dinner. I’ll send the cutter for you. I can’t give you a salute, Mr. Consul,
+but you shall have all the side boys I can muster.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Those from the yacht parted from their consul in the most friendly spirit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I think he’s charming!” exclaimed Miss Cairns. “And did you notice his novels?
+They were in every language. It must be terribly lonely down here, for a man
+like that.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He’s the first of our consuls we’ve met on this trip,” growled her father,
+“that we’ve caught sober.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Sober!” exclaimed his wife indignantly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He’s one of the Marshalls of Vermont. I asked him.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I wonder,” mused Hanley, “how much the place is worth? Hamilton, one of the
+new senators, has been deviling the life out of me to send his son somewhere.
+Says if he stays in Washington he’ll disgrace the family. I should think this
+place would drive any man to drink himself to death in three months, and young
+Hamilton, from what I’ve seen of him, ought to be able to do it in a week. That
+would leave the place open for the next man.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“There’s a postmaster in my State thinks he carried it.” The senator smiled
+grimly. “He has consumption, and wants us to give him a consulship in the
+tropics. I’ll tell him I’ve seen Porto Banos, and that it’s just the place for
+him.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The senator’s pleasantry was not well received. But Miss Cairns alone had the
+temerity to speak of what the others were thinking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“What would become of Mr. Marshall?” she asked. The senator smiled tolerantly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I don’t know that I was thinking of Mr. Marshall,” he said. “I can’t recall
+anything he has done for this administration. You see, Miss Cairns,” he
+explained, in the tone of one addressing a small child, “Marshall has been
+abroad now for forty years, at the expense of the taxpayers. Some of us think
+men who have lived that long on their fellow-countrymen had better come home
+and get to work.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Livingstone nodded solemnly in assent. He did not wish a post abroad at the
+expense of the taxpayers. He was willing to pay for it. And then, with
+“ex-Minister” on his visiting cards, and a sense of duty well performed, for
+the rest of his life he could join the other expatriates in Paris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just before dinner, the cruiser <i>Raleigh</i> having discovered the
+whereabouts of the <i>Serapis</i> by wireless, entered the harbor, and Admiral
+Hardy came to the yacht to call upon the senator, in whose behalf he had been
+scouring the Caribbean Seas. Having paid his respects to that personage, the
+admiral fell boisterously upon Marshall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The two old gentlemen were friends of many years. They had met, officially and
+unofficially, in many strange parts of the world. To each the chance reunion
+was a piece of tremendous good fortune. And throughout dinner the guests of
+Livingstone, already bored with each other, found in them and their talk of
+former days new and delightful entertainment. So much so that when, Marshall
+having assured them that the local quarantine regulations did not extend to a
+yacht, the men departed for Las Bocas, the women insisted that he and admiral
+remain behind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was for Marshall a wondrous evening. To foregather with his old friend whom
+he had known since Hardy was a mad midshipman, to sit at the feet of his own
+charming countrywomen, to listen to their soft, modulated laughter, to note how
+quickly they saw that to him the evening was a great event, and with what tact
+each contributed to make it the more memorable; all served to wipe out the
+months of bitter loneliness, the stigma of failure, the sense of undeserved
+neglect. In the moonlight, on the cool quarter-deck, they sat, in a
+half-circle, each of the two friends telling tales out of school, tales of
+which the other was the hero or the victim, “inside” stories of great
+occasions, ceremonies, bombardments, unrecorded “shirt-sleeve” diplomacy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hardy had helped to open the Suez Canal. Marshall had assisted the Queen of
+Madagascar to escape from the French invaders. On the Barbary Coast Hardy had
+chased pirates. In Edinburgh Marshall had played chess with Carlyle. He had
+seen Paris in mourning in the days of the siege, Paris in terror in the days of
+the Commune; he had known Garibaldi, Gambetta, the younger Dumas, the creator
+of Pickwick.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Do you remember that time in Tangier,” the admiral urged, “when I was a
+midshipman, and got into the bashaw’s harem?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Do you remember how I got you out?” Marshall replied grimly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And,” demanded Hardy, “do you remember when Adelina Patti paid a visit to the
+<i>Kearsarge</i> at Marseilles in ’65—George Dewey was our second officer—and
+you were bowing and backing away from her, and you backed into an open hatch,
+and she said ‘my French isn’t up to it’ what was it she said?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I didn’t hear it,” said Marshall; “I was too far down the hatch.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Do you mean the old <i>Kearsarge?</i>” asked Mrs. Cairns. “Were you in the
+service then, Mr. Marshall?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With loyal pride in his friend, the admiral answered for him:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He was our consul-general at Marseilles!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination could not
+escape the contrast, could see in their mind’s eye the great harbor of
+Marseilles, crowded with the shipping of the world, surrounding it the
+beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north, and on the battleship the
+young consul-general making his bow to the young Empress of Song. And now,
+before their actual eyes, they saw the village of Porto Banos, a black streak
+in the night, a row of mud shacks, at the end of the wharf a single lantern
+yellow in the clear moonlight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Later in the evening Miss Cairns led the admiral to one side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Admiral,” she began eagerly, “tell me about your friend. Why is he here? Why
+don’t they give him a place worthy of him? I’ve seen many of our
+representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste men like that.”
+The girl exclaimed indignantly: “He’s one of the most interesting men I’ve ever
+met! He’s lived everywhere, known every one. He’s a distinguished man, a
+cultivated man; even I can see he knows his work, that he’s a diplomat, born,
+trained, that he’s——” The admiral interrupted with a growl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You don’t have to tell <small>ME</small> about Henry,” he protested. “I’ve
+known Henry twenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts,” he exclaimed hotly,
+“he wouldn’t be a consul on this coral reef; he’d be a minister in Europe. Look
+at me! We’re the same age. We started together. When Lincoln sent him to
+Morocco as consul, he signed my commission as a midshipman. Now I’m an admiral.
+Henry has twice my brains and he’s been a consul-general, and he’s <i>here</i>,
+back at the foot of the ladder!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Why?” demanded the girl.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Because the navy is a service and the consular service isn’t a service. Men
+like Senator Hanley use it to pay their debts. While Henry’s been serving his
+country abroad, he’s lost his friends, lost his ‘pull.’ Those politicians up at
+Washington have no use for him. They don’t consider that a consul like Henry
+can make a million dollars for his countrymen. He can keep them from shipping
+goods where there’s no market, show them where there is a market.” The admiral
+snorted contemptuously. “You don’t have to tell <small>ME</small> the value of
+a good consul. But those politicians don’t consider that. They only see that he
+has a job worth a few hundred dollars, and they want it, and if he hasn’t other
+politicians to protect him, they’ll take it.” The girl raised her head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Why don’t you speak to the senator?” she asked. “Tell him you’ve known him for
+years, that——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Glad to do it!” exclaimed the admiral heartily. “It won’t be the first time.
+But Henry mustn’t know. He’s too confoundedly touchy. He hates the <i>idea</i>
+of influence, hates men like Hanley, who abuse it. If he thought anything was
+given to him except on his merits, he wouldn’t take it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Then we won’t tell him,” said the girl. For a moment she hesitated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If I spoke to Mr. Hanley,” she asked, “told him what I learned to-night of Mr.
+Marshall, would it have any effect?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Don’t know how it will affect Hanley,” said the sailor, “but if you asked
+<i>me</i> to make anybody a consul-general, I’d make him an ambassador.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Later in the evening Hanley and Livingstone were seated alone on deck. The
+visit to Las Bocas had not proved amusing, but, much to Livingstone’s relief,
+his honored guest was now in good-humor. He took his cigar from his lips, only
+to sip at a long cool drink. He was in a mood flatteringly confidential and
+communicative.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“People have the strangest idea of what I can do for them,” he laughed. It was
+his pose to pretend he was without authority. “They believe I’ve only to wave a
+wand, and get them anything they want. I thought I’d be safe from them on board
+a yacht.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Livingstone, in ignorance of what was coming, squirmed apprehensively.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“But it seems,” the senator went on, “I’m at the mercy of a conspiracy. The
+women folk want me to do something for this fellow Marshall. If they had their
+way, they’d send him to the Court of St. James. And old Hardy, too, tackled me
+about him. So did Miss Cairns. And then Marshall himself got me behind the
+wheel-house, and I thought he was going to tell me how good he was, too! But he
+didn’t.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As though the joke were on himself, the senator laughed appreciatively.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Told me, instead, that Hardy ought to be a vice-admiral.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Livingstone, also, laughed, with the satisfied air of one who cannot be
+tricked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“They fixed it up between them,” he explained, “each was to put in a good word
+for the other.” He nodded eagerly. “That’s what <i>I</i> think.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were moments during the cruise when Senator Hanley would have found
+relief in dropping his host overboard. With mock deference, the older man
+inclined his head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That’s what <i>you</i> think, is it?” he asked. “Livingstone,” he added, “you
+certainly are a great judge of men!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next morning, old man Marshall woke with a lightness at his heart that had
+been long absent. For a moment, conscious only that he was happy, he lay
+between sleep and waking, frowning up at his canopy of mosquito net, trying to
+realize what change had come to him. Then he remembered. His old friend had
+returned. New friends had come into his life and welcomed him kindly. He was no
+longer lonely. As eager as a boy, he ran to the window. He had not been
+dreaming. In the harbor lay the pretty yacht, the stately, white-hulled
+war-ship. The flag that drooped from the stern of each caused his throat to
+tighten, brought warm tears to his eyes, fresh resolve to his discouraged,
+troubled spirit. When he knelt beside his bed, his heart poured out his thanks
+in gratitude and gladness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While he was dressing, a blue-jacket brought a note from the admiral. It
+invited him to tea on board the war-ship, with the guests of the
+<i>Serapis</i>. His old friend added that he was coming to lunch with his
+consul, and wanted time reserved for a long talk. The consul agreed gladly. He
+was in holiday humor. The day promised to repeat the good moments of the night
+previous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At nine o’clock, through the open door of the consulate, Marshall saw Aiken,
+the wireless operator, signaling from the wharf excitedly to the yacht, and a
+boat leave the ship and return. Almost immediately the launch, carrying several
+passengers, again made the trip shoreward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Half an hour later, Senator Hanley, Miss Cairns, and Livingstone came up the
+waterfront, and entering the consulate, seated themselves around Marshall’s
+desk. Livingstone was sunk in melancholy. The senator, on the contrary, was
+smiling broadly. His manner was one of distinct relief. He greeted the consul
+with hearty good-humor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’m ordered home!” he announced gleefully. Then, remembering the presence of
+Livingstone, he hastened to add: “I needn’t say how sorry I am to give up my
+yachting trip, but orders are orders. The President,” he explained to Marshall,
+“cables me this morning to come back and take my coat off.” The prospect, as a
+change from playing bridge on a pleasure boat, seemed far from depressing him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Those filibusters in the Senate,” he continued genially, “are making trouble
+again. They think they’ve got me out of the way for another month, but they’ll
+find they’re wrong. When that bill comes up, they’ll find me at the old stand
+and ready for business!” Marshall did not attempt to conceal his personal
+disappointment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I am so sorry you are leaving,” he said; “selfishly sorry, I mean. I’d hoped
+you all would be here for several days.” He looked inquiringly toward
+Livingstone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I understood the <i>Serapis</i> was disabled,” he explained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“She is,” answered Hanley. “So’s the <i>Raleigh</i>. At a pinch, the admiral
+might have stretched the regulations and carried me to Jamaica, but the
+<i>Raleigh’s</i> engines are knocked about too. I’ve GOT to reach Kingston
+Thursday. The German boat leaves there Thursday for New York. At first it
+looked as though I couldn’t do it, but we find that the Royal Mail is due
+to-day, and she can get to Kingston Wednesday night. It’s a great piece of
+luck. I wouldn’t bother you with my troubles,” the senator explained
+pleasantly, “but the agent of the Royal Mail here won’t sell me a ticket until
+you’ve put your seal to this.” He extended a piece of printed paper.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As Hanley had been talking, the face of the consul had grown grave. He accepted
+the paper, but did not look at it. Instead, he regarded the senator with
+troubled eyes. When he spoke, his tone was one of genuine concern.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It is most unfortunate,” he said. “But I am afraid the <i>Royal Mail</i> will
+not take you on board. Because of Las Bocas,” he explained. “If we had only
+known!” he added remorsefully. “It is <i>most</i> unfortunate.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Because of Las Bocas?” echoed Hanley.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You don’t mean they’ll refuse to take me to Jamaica because I spent half an
+hour at the end of a wharf listening to a squeaky gramophone?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The trouble,” explained Marshall, “is this: if they carried you, all the other
+passengers would be held in quarantine for ten days, and there are fines to
+pay, and there would be difficulties over the mails. But,” he added hopefully,
+“maybe the regulations have been altered. I will see her captain, and tell
+him——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“See her captain!” objected Hanley. “Why see the captain? He doesn’t know I’ve
+been to that place. Why tell <i>him?</i> All I need is a clean bill of health
+from you. That’s all <small>HE</small> wants. You have only to sign that
+paper.” Marshall regarded the senator with surprise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“But I can’t,” he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You can’t? Why not?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Because it certifies to the fact that you have not visited Las Bocas.
+Unfortunately, you have visited Las Bocas.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The senator had been walking up and down the room. Now he seated himself, and
+stared at Marshall curiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s like this, Mr. Marshall,” he began quietly. “The President desires my
+presence in Washington, thinks I can be of some use to him there in helping
+carry out certain party measures—measures to which he pledged himself before
+his election. Down here, a British steamship line has laid down local rules
+which, in my case anyway, are ridiculous. The question is, are you going to be
+bound by the red tape of a ha’penny British colony, or by your oath to the
+President of the United States?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sophistry amused Marshall. He smiled good-naturedly and shook his head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’m afraid, Senator,” he said, “that way of putting it is hardly fair.
+Unfortunately, the question is one of fact. I will explain to the captain——”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You will explain nothing to the captain!” interrupted Hanley. “This is a
+matter which concerns no one but our two selves. I am not asking favors of
+steamboat captains. I am asking an American consul to assist an American
+citizen in trouble, and,” he added, with heavy sarcasm, “incidentally, to carry
+out the wishes of his President.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Marshall regarded the senator with an expression of both surprise and
+disbelief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Are you asking me to put my name to what is not so?” he said. “Are you
+serious?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That paper, Mr. Marshall,” returned Hanley steadily, “is a mere form, a piece
+of red tape. There’s no more danger of my carrying the plague to Jamaica than
+of my carrying a dynamite bomb. You <i>know</i> that.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I <i>do</i> know that,” assented Marshall heartily. “I appreciate your
+position, and I regret it exceedingly. You are the innocent victim of a
+regulation which is a wise regulation, but which is most unfair to you. My own
+position,” he added, “is not important, but you can believe me, it is not easy.
+It is certainly no pleasure for me to be unable to help you.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hanley was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes watching Marshall
+closely. “Then you refuse?” he said. “Why?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Marshall regarded the senator steadily. His manner was untroubled. The look he
+turned upon Hanley was one of grave disapproval.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You know why,” he answered quietly. “It is impossible.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In sudden anger Hanley rose. Marshall, who had been seated behind his desk,
+also rose. For a moment, in silence, the two men confronted each other. Then
+Hanley spoke; his tone was harsh and threatening.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Then I am to understand,” he exclaimed, “that you refuse to carry out the
+wishes of a United States Senator and of the President of the United States?”
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+<img src="images/img01.jpg" width="519" height="600" alt="[Illustration]" />
+<p class="caption">“Then I am to understand,” he exclaimed, “that you refuse to carry out the
+wishes of a United States Senator and of the President of the United States?”</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>
+In front of Marshall, on his desk, was the little iron stamp of the consulate.
+Protectingly, almost caressingly, he laid his hand upon it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I refuse,” he corrected, “to place the seal of this consulate on a lie.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a moment’s pause. Miss Cairns, unwilling to remain, and unable to
+withdraw, clasped her hands unhappily and stared at the floor. Livingstone
+exclaimed in indignant protest. Hanley moved a step nearer and, to emphasize
+what he said, tapped his knuckles on the desk. With the air of one confident of
+his advantage, he spoke slowly and softly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Do you appreciate,” he asked, “that, while you may be of some importance down
+here in this fever swamp, in Washington I am supposed to carry some weight? Do
+you appreciate that I am a senator from a State that numbers four millions of
+people, and that you are preventing me from serving those people?” Marshall
+inclined his head gravely and politely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And I want you to appreciate,” he said, “that while I have no weight at
+Washington, in this fever swamp I have the honor to represent eighty millions
+of people, and as long as that consular sign is over my door I don’t intend to
+prostitute it for <i>you</i>, or the President of the United States, or any one
+of those eighty millions.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of the two men, the first to lower his eyes was Hanley. He laughed shortly, and
+walked to the door. There he turned, and indifferently, as though the incident
+no longer interested him, drew out his watch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Mr. Marshall,” he said, “if the cable is working, I’ll take your tin sign away
+from you by sunset.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For one of Marshall’s traditions, to such a speech there was no answer save
+silence. He bowed, and, apparently serene and undismayed, resumed his seat.
+From the contest, judging from the manner of each, it was Marshall, not Hanley,
+who had emerged victorious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Miss Cairns was not deceived. Under the unexpected blow, Marshall had
+turned older. His clear blue eyes had grown less alert, his broad shoulders
+seemed to stoop. In sympathy, her own eyes filled with sudden tears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“What will you do?” she whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I don’t know what I shall do,” said Marshall simply. “I should have liked to
+have resigned. It’s a prettier finish. After forty years—to be dismissed by
+cable is—it’s a poor way of ending it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Miss Cairns rose and walked to the door. There she turned and looked back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I am sorry,” she said. And both understood that in saying no more than that
+she had best shown her sympathy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An hour later the sympathy of Admiral Hardy was expressed more directly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If he comes on board my ship,” roared that gentleman, “I’ll push him down an
+ammunition hoist and break his damned neck!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Marshall laughed delightedly. The loyalty of his old friend was never so
+welcome.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You’ll treat him with every courtesy,” he said. “The only satisfaction he gets
+out of this is to see that he has hurt me. We will not give him that
+satisfaction.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Marshall found that to conceal his wound was more difficult than he had
+anticipated. When, at tea time, on the deck of the war-ship, he again met
+Senator Hanley and the guests of the <i>Serapis</i>, he could not forget that
+his career had come to an end. There was much to remind him that this was so.
+He was made aware of it by the sad, sympathetic glances of the women; by their
+tactful courtesies; by the fact that Livingstone, anxious to propitiate Hanley,
+treated him rudely; by the sight of the young officers, each just starting upon
+a career of honor, and possible glory, as his career ended in humiliation; and
+by the big war-ship herself, that recalled certain crises when he had only to
+press a button and war-ships had come at his bidding.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At five o’clock there was an awkward moment. The Royal Mail boat, having taken
+on her cargo, passed out of the harbor on her way to Jamaica, and dipped her
+colors. Senator Hanley, abandoned to his fate, observed her departure in
+silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Livingstone, hovering at his side, asked sympathetically: “Have they answered
+your cable, sir?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“They have,” said Hanley gruffly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Was it—was it satisfactory?” pursued the diplomat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It <i>was</i>,” said the senator, with emphasis.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Far from discouraged, Livingstone continued his inquiries.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And when,” he asked eagerly, “are you going to tell him?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Now!” said the senator.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The guests were leaving the ship. When all were seated in the admiral’s steam
+launch, the admiral descended the accommodation ladder and himself picked up
+the tiller ropes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Mr. Marshall,” he called, “when I bring the launch broadside to the ship and
+stop her, you will stand ready to receive the consul’s salute.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Involuntarily, Marshall uttered an exclamation of protest. He had forgotten
+that on leaving the war-ship, as consul, he was entitled to seven guns. Had he
+remembered, he would have insisted that the ceremony be omitted. He knew that
+the admiral wished to show his loyalty, knew that his old friend was now paying
+him this honor only as a rebuke to Hanley. But the ceremony was no longer an
+honor. Hanley had made of it a mockery. It served only to emphasize what had
+been taken from him. But, without a scene, it now was too late to avoid it. The
+first of the seven guns had roared from the bow, and, as often he had stood
+before, as never he would so stand again, Marshall took his place at the
+gangway of the launch. His eyes were fixed on the flag, his gray head was
+uncovered, his hat was pressed above his heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For the first time since Hanley had left the consulate, he fell into sudden
+terror lest he might give way to his emotions. Indignant at the thought, he
+held himself erect. His face was set like a mask, his eyes were untroubled. He
+was determined they should not see that he was suffering.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another gun spat out a burst of white smoke, a stab of flame. There was an
+echoing roar. Another and another followed. Marshall counted seven, and then,
+with a bow to the admiral, backed from the gangway.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And then another gun shattered the hot, heavy silence. Marshall, confused,
+embarrassed, assuming he had counted wrong, hastily returned to his place. But
+again before he could leave it, in savage haste a ninth gun roared out its
+greeting. He could not still be mistaken. He turned appealingly to his friend.
+The eyes of the admiral were fixed upon the war-ship. Again a gun shattered the
+silence. Was it a jest? Were they laughing at him? Marshall flushed miserably.
+He gave a swift glance toward the others. They were smiling. Then it <i>was</i>
+a jest. Behind his back, something of which they all were cognizant was going
+forward. The face of Livingstone alone betrayed a like bewilderment to his own.
+But the others, who knew, were mocking him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For the thirteenth time a gun shook the brooding swamp land of Porto Banos. And
+then, and not until then, did the flag crawl slowly from the mast-head. Mary
+Cairns broke the tenseness by bursting into tears. But Marshall saw that every
+one else, save she and Livingstone, were still smiling. Even the bluejackets in
+charge of the launch were grinning at him. He was beset by smiling faces. And
+then from the war-ship, unchecked, came, against all regulations, three long,
+splendid cheers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Marshall felt his lips quivering, the warm tears forcing their way to his eyes.
+He turned beseechingly to his friend. His voice trembled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Charles,” he begged, “are they laughing at me?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Eagerly, before the other would answer, Senator Hanley tossed his cigar into
+the water and, scrambling forward, seized Marshall by the hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Mr. Marshall,” he cried, “our President has great faith in Abraham Lincoln’s
+judgment of men. And this salute means that this morning he appointed you our
+new minister to The Hague. I’m one of those politicians who keeps his word. I
+<i>told</i> you I’d take your tin sign away from you by sunset. I’ve done it!”
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #1762 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1762)
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Consul, 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: The Consul
+
+Author: Richard Harding Davis
+
+Posting Date: November 17, 2008 [EBook #1762]
+Release Date: May, 1999
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSUL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Aaron Cannon
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CONSUL
+
+By Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+For over forty years, in one part of the world or another, old man
+Marshall had, served his country as a United States consul. He had
+been appointed by Lincoln. For a quarter of a century that fact was his
+distinction. It was now his epitaph. But in former years, as each new
+administration succeeded the old, it had again and again saved his
+official head. When victorious and voracious place-hunters, searching
+the map of the world for spoils, dug out his hiding-place and demanded
+his consular sign as a reward for a younger and more aggressive party
+worker, the ghost of the dead President protected him. In the State
+Department, Marshall had become a tradition. "You can't touch Him!"
+the State Department would say; "why, HE was appointed by Lincoln!"
+Secretly, for this weapon against the hungry headhunters, the department
+was infinitely grateful. Old man Marshall was a consul after its own
+heart. Like a soldier, he was obedient, disciplined; wherever he was
+sent, there, without question, he would go. Never against exile, against
+ill-health, against climate did he make complaint. Nor when he was moved
+on and down to make way for some ne'er-do-well with influence, with a
+brother-in-law in the Senate, with a cousin owning a newspaper, with
+rich relatives who desired him to drink himself to death at the expense
+of the government rather than at their own, did old man Marshall point
+to his record as a claim for more just treatment.
+
+And it had been an excellent record. His official reports, in a quaint,
+stately hand, were models of English; full of information, intelligent,
+valuable, well observed. And those few of his countrymen, who stumbled
+upon him in the out-of-the-world places to which of late he had been
+banished, wrote of him to the department in terms of admiration and awe.
+Never had he or his friends petitioned for promotion, until it was
+at last apparent that, save for his record and the memory of his dead
+patron, he had no friends. But, still in the department the tradition
+held and, though he was not advanced, he was not dismissed.
+
+"If that old man's been feeding from the public trough ever since the
+Civil War," protested a "practical" politician, "it seems to me, Mr.
+Secretary, that he's about had his share. Ain't it time he give some
+one else a bite? Some of us that has, done the work, that has borne the
+brunt----"
+
+"This place he now holds," interrupted the Secretary of State suavely,
+"is one hardly commensurate with services like yours. I can't pronounce
+the name of it, and I'm not sure just where it is, but I see that, of
+the last six consuls we sent there, three resigned within a month and
+the other three died of yellow-fever. Still, if you insist----"
+
+The practical politician reconsidered hastily. "I'm not the sort,"
+he protested, "to turn out a man appointed by our martyred President.
+Besides, he's so old now, if the fever don't catch him, he'll die of old
+age, anyway."
+
+The Secretary coughed uncomfortably. "And they say," he murmured,
+"republics are ungrateful."
+
+"I don't quite get that," said the practical politician.
+
+Of Porto Banos, of the Republic of Colombia, where as consul Mr.
+Marshall was upholding the dignity of the United States, little could
+be said except that it possessed a sure harbor. When driven from the
+Caribbean Sea by stress of weather, the largest of ocean tramps, and
+even battle-ships, could find in its protecting arms of coral a safe
+shelter. But, as young Mr. Aiken, the wireless operator, pointed out,
+unless driven by a hurricane and the fear of death, no one ever visited
+it. Back of the ancient wharfs, that dated from the days when Porto
+Banos was a receiver of stolen goods for buccaneers and pirates, were
+rows of thatched huts, streets, according to the season, of dust or
+mud, a few iron-barred, jail-like barracks, customhouses, municipal
+buildings, and the whitewashed adobe houses of the consuls. The backyard
+of the town was a swamp. Through this at five each morning a rusty
+engine pulled a train of flat cars to the base of the mountains, and, if
+meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into the swamp, at five in the
+evening brought back the flat cars laden with odorous coffeesacks.
+
+In the daily life of Porto Banos, waiting for the return of the train,
+and betting if it would return, was the chief interest. Each night the
+consuls, the foreign residents, the wireless operator, the manager of
+the rusty railroad met for dinner. There at the head of the long table,
+by virtue of his years, of his courtesy and distinguished manner, of his
+office, Mr. Marshall presided. Of the little band of exiles he was
+the chosen ruler. His rule was gentle. By force of example he had made
+existence in Porto Banos more possible. For women and children Porto
+Banos was a death-trap, and before "old man Marshall" came there had
+been no influence to remind the enforced bachelors of other days.
+
+They had lost interest, had grown lax, irritable, morose. Their white
+duck was seldom white. Their cheeks were unshaven. When the sun sank
+into the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into a Turkish
+bath, they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Cafe Bolivar for
+drinks. The petty gambling led to petty quarrels; the drinks to fever.
+The coming of Mr. Marshall changed that. His standard of life, his
+tact, his worldly wisdom, his cheerful courtesy, his fastidious personal
+neatness shamed the younger men; the desire to please him, to, stand
+well in his good opinion, brought back pride and self-esteem.
+
+The lieutenant of her Majesty's gun-boat PLOVER noted the change.
+
+"Used to be," he exclaimed, "you couldn't get out of the Cafe Bolivar
+without some one sticking a knife in you; now it's a debating club.
+They all sit round a table and listen to an old gentleman talk world
+politics."
+
+If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos, there
+was little in return that Porto Banos could give to him. Magazines and
+correspondents in six languages kept him in touch with those foreign
+lands in which he had represented his country, but of the country he had
+represented, newspapers and periodicals showed him only too clearly
+that in forty years it had grown away from him, had changed beyond
+recognition.
+
+When last he had called at the State Department, he had been made to
+feel he was a man without a country, and when he visited his home town
+in Vermont, he was looked upon as a Rip Van Winkle. Those of his boyhood
+friends who were not dead had long thought of him as dead. And the
+sleepy, pretty village had become a bustling commercial centre. In
+the lanes where, as a young man, he had walked among wheatfields,
+trolley-cars whirled between rows of mills and factories. The children
+had grown to manhood, with children of their own.
+
+Like a ghost, he searched for house after house, where once he had been
+made welcome, only to find in its place a towering office building.
+"All had gone, the old familiar faces." In vain he scanned even the shop
+fronts for a friendly, homelike name. Whether the fault was his,
+whether he would better have served his own interests than those of his
+government, it now was too late to determine. In his own home, he was a
+stranger among strangers. In the service he had so faithfully followed,
+rank by rank, he had been dropped, until now he, who twice had been a
+consul-general, was an exile, banished to a fever swamp. The great Ship
+of State had dropped him overside, had "marooned" him, and sailed away.
+
+Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Cafe Bolivar, and back
+again to the consulate. There, as he entered the outer office, Jose, the
+Colombian clerk, would rise and bow profoundly.
+
+"Any papers for me to sign, Jose?" the consul would ask.
+
+"Not to-day, Excellency," the clerk would reply. Then Jose would return
+to writing a letter to his lady-love; not that there was any-thing to
+tell her, but because writing on the official paper of the consulate
+gave him importance in his eyes, and in hers. And in the inner office
+the consul would continue to gaze at the empty harbor, the empty coral
+reefs, the empty, burning sky.
+
+The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the wireless
+man came in late to announce that a Red D. boat and the island of
+Curacao had both reported a hurricane coming north. Also, that much
+concern was felt for the safety of the yacht SERAPIS. Three days before,
+in advance of her coming, she had sent a wireless to Wilhelmstad, asking
+the captain of the port to reserve a berth for her. She expected to
+arrive the following morning. But for forty-eight hours nothing had
+been heard from her, and it was believed she had been overhauled by the
+hurricane. Owing to the presence on board of Senator Hanley, the closest
+friend of the new President, the man who had made him president, much
+concern was felt at Washington. To try to pick her up by wireless, the
+gun-boat NEWARK had been ordered from Culebra, the cruiser RALEIGH,
+with Admiral Hardy on board, from Colon. It was possible she would seek
+shelter at Porto Banos. The consul was ordered to report.
+
+As Marshall wrote out his answer, the French consul exclaimed with
+interest:
+
+"He is of importance, then, this senator?" he asked. "Is it that in your
+country ships of war are at the service of a senator?"
+
+Aiken, the wireless operator, grinned derisively.
+
+"At the service of THIS senator, they are!" he answered. "They call him
+the 'king-maker,' the man behind the throne."
+
+"But in your country," protested the Frenchman, "there is no throne. I
+thought your president was elected by the people?"
+
+"That's what the people think," answered Aiken. "In God's country,"
+he explained, "the trusts want a rich man in the Senate, with the same
+interests as their own, to represent them. They chose Hanley. He picked
+out of the candidates for the presidency the man he thought would help
+the interests. He nominated him, and the people voted for him. Hanley is
+what we call a 'boss.'"
+
+The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall.
+
+"The position of the boss is the more dangerous," said Marshall gravely,
+"because it is unofficial, because there are no laws to curtail his
+powers. Men like Senator Hanley are a menace to good government. They
+see in public office only a reward for party workers."
+
+"That's right," assented Aiken. "Your forty years' service, Mr. Consul,
+wouldn't count with Hanley. If he wanted your job, he'd throw you out as
+quick as he would a drunken cook."
+
+Mr. Marshall flushed painfully, and the French consul hastened to
+interrupt.
+
+"Then, let us pray," he exclaimed, with fervor, "that the hurricane has
+sunk the SERAPIS, and all on board."
+
+Two hours later, the SERAPIS, showing she had met the hurricane and had
+come out second best, steamed into the harbor.
+
+Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone, of Washington. He once had
+been in the diplomatic service, and, as minister to The Hague, wished to
+return to it. In order to bring this about he had subscribed liberally
+to the party campaign fund.
+
+With him, among other distinguished persons, was the all-powerful
+Hanley. The kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise, in itself, demonstrated
+the ability of Livingstone as a diplomat. It was the opinion of
+many that it would surely lead to his appointment as a minister
+plenipotentiary. Livingstone was of the same opinion. He had not lived
+long in the nation's capital without observing the value of propinquity.
+How many men he knew were now paymasters, and secretaries of legation,
+solely because those high in the government met them daily at the
+Metropolitan Club, and preferred them in almost any other place. And if,
+after three weeks as his guest on board what the newspapers called his
+floating palace, the senator could refuse him even the prize, legation
+of Europe, there was no value in modest merit. As yet, Livingstone
+had not hinted at his ambition. There was no need. To a statesman of
+Hanley's astuteness, the largeness of Livingstone's contribution to the
+campaign fund was self-explanatory.
+
+After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board the
+SERAPIS seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto Banos,
+a compelling attraction. Before the anchors hit the water, they were
+in the launch. On reaching shore, they made at once for the consulate.
+There were many cables they wished to start on their way by wireless;
+cables to friends, to newspapers, to the government.
+
+Jose, the Colombian clerk, appalled by the unprecedented invasion of
+visitors, of visitors so distinguished, and Marshall, grateful for a
+chance to serve his fellow-countrymen, and especially his countrywomen,
+were ubiquitous, eager, indispensable. At Jose's desk the great senator,
+rolling his cigar between his teeth, was using, to Jose's ecstasy,
+Jose's own pen to write a reassuring message to the White House. At
+the consul's desk a beautiful creature, all in lace and pearls, was
+struggling to compress the very low opinion she held of a hurricane
+into ten words. On his knee, Henry Cairns, the banker, was inditing
+instructions to his Wall Street office, and upon himself Livingstone
+had taken the responsibility of replying to the inquiries heaped upon
+Marshall's desk, from many newspapers.
+
+It was just before sunset, and Marshall produced his tea things, and the
+young person in pearls and lace, who was Miss Cairns, made tea for the
+women, and the men mixed gin and limes with tepid water. The consul
+apologized for proposing a toast in which they could not join. He begged
+to drink to those who had escaped the perils of the sea. Had they been
+his oldest and nearest friends, his little speech could not have been
+more heart-felt and sincere. To his distress, it moved one of the ladies
+to tears, and in embarrassment he turned to the men.
+
+"I regret there is no ice," he said, "but you know the rule of the
+tropics; as soon as a ship enters port, the ice-machine bursts."
+
+"I'll tell the steward to send you some, sir," said Livingstone, "and as
+long as we're here."
+
+The senator showed his concern.
+
+"As long as we're here?" he gasped.
+
+"Not over two days," answered the owner nervously. "The chief says
+it will take all of that to get her in shape. As you ought to know,
+Senator, she was pretty badly mauled."
+
+The senator gazed blankly out of the window. Beyond it lay the naked
+coral reefs, the empty sky, and the ragged palms of Porto Banos.
+
+Livingstone felt that his legation was slipping from him.
+
+"That wireless operator," he continued hastily, "tells me there is a
+most amusing place a few miles down the coast, Las Bocas, a sort of
+Coney Island, where the government people go for the summer. There's
+surf bathing and roulette and cafes chantants. He says there's some
+Spanish dancers----"
+
+The guests of the SERAPIS exclaimed with interest; the senator smiled.
+To Marshall the general enthusiasm over the thought of a ride on a
+merry-go-round suggested that the friends of Mr. Livingstone had found
+their own society far from satisfying.
+
+Greatly encouraged, Livingstone continued, with enthusiasm:
+
+"And that wireless man said," he added, "that with the launch we can
+get there in half an hour. We might run down after dinner." He turned to
+Marshall.
+
+"Will you join us, Mr. Consul?" he asked, "and dine with us, first?"
+
+Marshall accepted with genuine pleasure. It had been many months
+since he had sat at table with his own people. But he shook his head
+doubtfully.
+
+"I was wondering about Las Bocas," he explained, "if your going there
+might not get you in trouble at the next port. With a yacht, I think it
+is different, but Las Bocas is under quarantine."
+
+There was a chorus of exclamations.
+
+"It's not serious," Marshall explained. "There was bubonic plague there,
+or something like it. You would be in no danger from that. It is only
+that you might be held up by the regulations. Passenger steamers
+can't land any one who has been there at any other port of the
+West Indies. The English are especially strict. The Royal Mail won't
+even receive any one on board here without a certificate from the
+English consul saying he has not visited Las Bocas. For an American
+they would require the same guarantee from me. But I don't think the
+regulations extend to yachts. I will inquire. I don't wish to deprive
+you of any of the many pleasures of Porto Banos," he added, smiling,
+"but if you were refused a landing at your next port I would blame
+myself."
+
+"It's all right," declared Livingstone decidedly. "It's just as you say;
+yachts and warships are exempt. Besides, I carry my own doctor, and if
+he won't give us a clean bill of health, I'll make him walk the plank.
+At eight, then, at dinner. I'll send the cutter for you. I can't give
+you a salute, Mr. Consul, but you shall have all the side boys I can
+muster."
+
+Those from the yacht parted from their consul in the most friendly
+spirit.
+
+"I think he's charming!" exclaimed Miss Cairns. "And did you notice his
+novels? They were in every language. It must be terribly lonely down
+here, for a man like that."
+
+"He's the first of our consuls we've met on this trip," growled her
+father, "that we've caught sober."
+
+"Sober!" exclaimed his wife indignantly.
+
+"He's one of the Marshalls of Vermont. I asked him."
+
+"I wonder," mused Hanley, "how much the place is worth? Hamilton, one of
+the new senators, has been deviling the life out of me to send his son
+somewhere. Says if he stays in Washington he'll disgrace the family. I
+should think this place would drive any man to drink himself to death in
+three months, and young Hamilton, from what I've seen of him, ought to
+be able to do it in a week. That would leave the place open for the next
+man."
+
+"There's a postmaster in my State thinks he carried it." The senator
+smiled grimly. "He has consumption, and wants us to give him a
+consulship in the tropics. I'll tell him I've seen Porto Banos, and that
+it's just the place for him."
+
+The senator's pleasantry was not well received. But Miss Cairns alone
+had the temerity to speak of what the others were thinking.
+
+"What would become of Mr. Marshall?" she asked. The senator smiled
+tolerantly.
+
+"I don't know that I was thinking of Mr. Marshall," he said. "I can't
+recall anything he has done for this administration. You see, Miss
+Cairns," he explained, in the tone of one addressing a small child,
+"Marshall has been abroad now for forty years, at the expense of the
+taxpayers. Some of us think men who have lived that long on their
+fellow-countrymen had better come home and get to work."
+
+Livingstone nodded solemnly in assent. He did not wish a post abroad at
+the expense of the taxpayers. He was willing to pay for it. And then,
+with "ex-Minister" on his visiting cards, and a sense of duty well
+performed, for the rest of his life he could join the other expatriates
+in Paris.
+
+Just before dinner, the cruiser RALEIGH having discovered the
+whereabouts of the SERAPIS by wireless, entered the harbor, and Admiral
+Hardy came to the yacht to call upon the senator, in whose behalf he
+had been scouring the Caribbean Seas. Having paid his respects to that
+personage, the admiral fell boisterously upon Marshall.
+
+The two old gentlemen were friends of many years. They had met,
+officially and unofficially, in many strange parts of the world. To
+each the chance reunion was a piece of tremendous good fortune. And
+throughout dinner the guests of Livingstone, already bored with each
+other, found in them and their talk of former days new and delightful
+entertainment. So much so that when, Marshall having assured them that
+the local quarantine regulations did not extend to a yacht, the men
+departed for Las Bocas, the women insisted that he and admiral remain
+behind.
+
+It was for Marshall a wondrous evening. To foregather with his old
+friend whom he had known since Hardy was a mad midshipman, to sit at
+the feet of his own charming countrywomen, to listen to their soft,
+modulated laughter, to note how quickly they saw that to him the evening
+was a great event, and with what tact each contributed to make it the
+more memorable; all served to wipe out the months of bitter loneliness,
+the stigma of failure, the sense of undeserved neglect. In the
+moonlight, on the cool quarter-deck, they sat, in a half-circle, each
+of the two friends telling tales out of school, tales of which the
+other was the hero or the victim, "inside" stories of great occasions,
+ceremonies, bombardments, unrecorded "shirt-sleeve" diplomacy.
+
+Hardy had helped to open the Suez Canal. Marshall had assisted the Queen
+of Madagascar to escape from the French invaders. On the Barbary Coast
+Hardy had chased pirates. In Edinburgh Marshall had played chess with
+Carlyle. He had seen Paris in mourning in the days of the siege, Paris
+in terror in the days of the Commune; he had known Garibaldi, Gambetta,
+the younger Dumas, the creator of Pickwick.
+
+"Do you remember that time in Tangier," the admiral urged, "when I was a
+midshipman, and got into the bashaw's harem?"
+
+"Do you remember how I got you out? Marshall replied grimly.
+
+"And," demanded Hardy, "do you remember when Adelina Patti paid a visit
+to the KEARSARGE at Marseilles in '65--George Dewey was our second
+officer--and you were bowing and backing away from her, and you backed
+into an open hatch, and she said 'my French isn't up to it' what was it
+she said?"
+
+"I didn't hear it," said Marshall; "I was too far down the hatch."
+
+"Do you mean the old KEARSARGE?" asked Mrs. Cairns. "Were you in the
+service then, Mr. Marshall?"
+
+With loyal pride in his friend, the admiral answered for him:
+
+"He was our consul-general at Marseilles!"
+
+There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination could
+not escape the contrast, could see in their mind's eye the great harbor
+of Marseilles, crowded with the shipping of the world, surrounding
+it the beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north, and on the
+battleship the young consul-general making his bow to the young Empress
+of Song. And now, before their actual eyes, they saw the village of
+Porto Banos, a black streak in the night, a row of mud shacks, at the
+end of the wharf a single lantern yellow in the clear moonlight.
+
+Later in the evening Miss Cairns led the admiral to one side.
+
+"Admiral," she began eagerly, "tell me about your friend. Why is he
+here? Why don't they give him a place worthy of him? I've seen many of
+our representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste men
+like that." The girl exclaimed indignantly: "He's one of the most
+interesting men I've ever met! He's lived everywhere, known every one.
+He's a distinguished man, a cultivated man; even I can see he knows his
+work, that he's a diplomat, born, trained, that he's----" The admiral
+interrupted with a growl.
+
+"You don't have to tell ME about Henry," he protested. "I've known Henry
+twenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts," he exclaimed hotly, "he
+wouldn't be a consul on this coral reef; he'd be a minister in Europe.
+Look at me! We're the same age. We started together. When Lincoln sent
+him to Morocco as consul, he signed my commission as a midshipman.
+Now I'm an admiral. Henry has twice my brains and he's been a
+consul-general, and he's HERE, back at the foot of the ladder!"
+
+"Why?" demanded the girl.
+
+"Because the navy is a service and the consular service isn't a service.
+Men like Senator Hanley use it to pay their debts. While Henry's been
+serving his country abroad, he's lost his friends, lost his 'pull.'
+Those politicians up at Washington have no use for him. They don't
+consider that a consul like Henry can make a million dollars for his
+countrymen. He can keep them from shipping goods where there's no
+market, show them where there is a market." The admiral snorted
+contemptuously. "You don't have to tell ME the value of a good consul.
+But those politicians don't consider that. They only see that he has
+a job worth a few hundred dollars, and they want it, and if he hasn't
+other politicians to protect him, they'll take it." The girl raised her
+head.
+
+"Why don't you speak to the senator?" she asked. "Tell him you've known
+him for years, that----"
+
+"Glad to do it!" exclaimed the admiral heartily. "It won't be the first
+time. But Henry mustn't know. He's too confoundedly touchy. He hates the
+IDEA of influence, hates men like Hanley, who abuse it. If he thought
+anything was given to him except on his merits, he wouldn't take it."
+
+"Then we won't tell him," said the girl. For a moment she hesitated.
+
+"If I spoke to Mr. Hanley," she asked, "told him what I learned to-night
+of Mr. Marshall, would it have any effect?"
+
+"Don't know how it will affect Hanley," said the sailor, "but if you
+asked me to make anybody a consul-general, I'd make him an ambassador."
+
+Later in the evening Hanley and Livingstone were seated alone on
+deck. The visit to Las Bocas had not proved amusing, but, much to
+Livingstone's relief, his honored guest was now in good-humor. He took
+his cigar from his lips, only to sip at a long cool drink. He was in a
+mood flatteringly confidential and communicative.
+
+"People have the strangest idea of what I can do for them," he laughed.
+It was his pose to pretend he was without authority. "They believe I've
+only to wave a wand, and get them anything they want. I thought I'd be
+safe from them on board a yacht."
+
+Livingstone, in ignorance of what was coming, squirmed apprehensively.
+
+"But it seems," the senator went on, "I'm at the mercy of a conspiracy.
+The women folk want me to do something for this fellow Marshall. If they
+had their way, they'd send him to the Court of St. James. And old Hardy,
+too, tackled me about him. So did Miss Cairns. And then Marshall himself
+got me behind the wheel-house, and I thought he was going to tell me how
+good he was, too! But he didn't."
+
+As though the joke were on himself, the senator laughed appreciatively.
+
+"Told me, instead, that Hardy ought to be a vice-admiral."
+
+Livingstone, also, laughed, with the satisfied air of one who cannot be
+tricked.
+
+"They fixed it up between them," he explained, "each was to put in a
+good word for the other." He nodded eagerly. "That's what I think."
+
+There were moments during the cruise when Senator Hanley would have
+found relief in dropping his host overboard. With mock deference, the
+older man inclined his head.
+
+"That's what you think, is it?" he asked. "Livingstone," he added, "you
+certainly are a great judge of men!"
+
+The next morning, old man Marshall woke with a lightness at his heart
+that had been long absent. For a moment, conscious only that he was
+happy, he lay between sleep and waking, frowning up at his canopy of
+mosquito net, trying to realize what change had come to him. Then he
+remembered. His old friend had returned. New friends had come into his
+life and welcomed him kindly. He was no longer lonely. As eager as a
+boy, he ran to the window. He had not been dreaming. In the harbor lay
+the pretty yacht, the stately, white-hulled war-ship. The flag that
+drooped from the stern of each caused his throat to tighten, brought
+warm tears to his eyes, fresh resolve to his discouraged, troubled
+spirit. When he knelt beside his bed, his heart poured out his thanks in
+gratitude and gladness.
+
+While he was dressing, a blue-jacket brought a note from the admiral.
+It invited him to tea on board the war-ship, with the guests of the
+SERAPIS. His old friend added that he was coming to lunch with his
+consul, and wanted time reserved for a long talk. The consul agreed
+gladly. He was in holiday humor. The day promised to repeat the good
+moments of the night previous.
+
+At nine o'clock, through the open door of the consulate, Marshall saw
+Aiken, the wireless operator, signaling from the wharf excitedly to
+the yacht, and a boat leave the ship and return. Almost immediately the
+launch, carrying several passengers, again made the trip shoreward.
+
+Half an hour later, Senator Hanley, Miss Cairns, and Livingstone came
+up the waterfront, and entering the consulate, seated themselves around
+Marshall's desk. Livingstone was sunk in melancholy. The senator,
+on the contrary, was smiling broadly. His manner was one of distinct
+relief. He greeted the consul with hearty good-humor.
+
+"I'm ordered home!" he announced gleefully. Then, remembering the
+presence of Livingstone, he hastened to add: "I needn't say how sorry I
+am to give up my yachting trip, but orders are orders. The President,"
+he explained to Marshall, "cables me this morning to come back and
+take my coat off." The prospect, as a change from playing bridge on a
+pleasure boat, seemed far from depressing him.
+
+"Those filibusters in the Senate," he continued genially, "are making
+trouble again. They think they've got me out of the way for another
+month, but they'll find they're wrong. When that bill comes up, they'll
+find me at the old stand and ready for business!" Marshall did not
+attempt to conceal his personal disappointment.
+
+"I am so sorry you are leaving," he said; "selfishly sorry, I mean. I'd
+hoped you all would be here for several days." He looked inquiringly
+toward Livingstone.
+
+"I understood the SERAPIS was disabled," he explained.
+
+"She is," answered Hanley. "So's the RALEIGH. At a pinch, the admiral
+might have stretched the regulations and carried me to Jamaica, but
+the RALEIGH's engines are knocked about too. I've GOT to reach Kingston
+Thursday. The German boat leaves there Thursday for New York. At first
+it looked as though I couldn't do it, but we find that the Royal Mail
+is due to-day, and she can get to Kingston Wednesday night. It's a great
+piece of luck. I wouldn't bother you with my troubles," the senator
+explained pleasantly, "but the agent of the Royal Mail here won't sell
+me a ticket until you've put your seal to this." He extended a piece of
+printed paper.
+
+As Hanley had been talking, the face of the consul had grown grave. He
+accepted the paper, but did not look at it. Instead, he regarded the
+senator with troubled eyes. When he spoke, his tone was one of genuine
+concern.
+
+"It is most unfortunate," he said. "But I am afraid the ROYAL MAIL will
+not take you on board. Because of Las Bocas," he explained. "If we had
+only known!" he added remorsefully. "It is MOST unfortunate."
+
+"Because of Las Bocas?" echoed Hanley.
+
+"You don't mean they'll refuse to take me to Jamaica because I spent
+half an hour at the end of a wharf listening to a squeaky gramophone?"
+
+"The trouble," explained Marshall, "is this: if they carried you, all
+the other passengers would be held in quarantine for ten days, and there
+are fines to pay, and there would be difficulties over the mails. But,"
+he added hopefully, "maybe the regulations have been altered. I will see
+her captain, and tell him----"
+
+"See her captain!" objected Hanley. "Why see the captain? He doesn't
+know I've been to that place. Why tell him? All I need is a clean bill
+of health from you. That's all HE wants. You have only to sign that
+paper." Marshall regarded the senator with surprise.
+
+"But I can't," he said.
+
+"You can't? Why not?"
+
+"Because it certifies to the fact that you have not visited Las Bocas.
+Unfortunately, you have visited Las Bocas."
+
+The senator had been walking up and down the room. Now he seated
+himself, and stared at Marshall curiously.
+
+"It's like this, Mr. Marshall," he began quietly. "The President desires
+my presence in Washington, thinks I can be of some use to him there in
+helping carry out certain party measures--measures to which he pledged
+himself before his election. Down here, a British steamship line has
+laid down local rules which, in my case anyway, are ridiculous. The
+question is, are you going to be bound by the red tape of a ha'penny
+British colony, or by your oath to the President of the United States?"
+
+The sophistry amused Marshall. He smiled good-naturedly and shook his
+head.
+
+"I'm afraid, Senator," he said, "that way of putting it is hardly
+fair. Unfortunately, the question is one of fact. I will explain to the
+captain----"
+
+"You will explain nothing to the captain!" interrupted Hanley. "This
+is a matter which concerns no one but our two selves. I am not asking
+favors of steamboat captains. I am asking an American consul to assist
+an American citizen in trouble, and," he added, with heavy sarcasm,
+"incidentally, to carry out the wishes of his President."
+
+Marshall regarded the senator with an expression of both surprise and
+disbelief.
+
+"Are you asking me to put my name to what is not so?" he said. "Are you
+serious?"
+
+"That paper, Mr. Marshall," returned Hanley steadily, "is a mere form,
+a piece of red tape. There's no more danger of my carrying the plague to
+Jamaica than of my carrying a dynamite bomb. You KNOW that."
+
+"I DO know that," assented Marshall heartily. "I appreciate your
+position, and I regret it exceedingly. You are the innocent victim of a
+regulation which is a wise regulation, but which is most unfair to you.
+My own position," he added, "is not important, but you can believe me,
+it is not easy. It is certainly no pleasure for me to be unable to help
+you."
+
+Hanley was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes watching
+Marshall closely. "Then you refuse?" he said. "Why?"
+
+Marshall regarded the senator steadily. His manner was untroubled. The
+look he turned upon Hanley was one of grave disapproval.
+
+"You know why," he answered quietly. "It is impossible."
+
+In sudden anger Hanley rose. Marshall, who had been seated behind his
+desk, also rose. For a moment, in silence, the two men confronted each
+other. Then Hanley spoke; his tone was harsh and threatening.
+
+"Then I am to understand," he exclaimed, "that you refuse to carry out
+the wishes of a United States Senator and of the President of the United
+States?"
+
+In front of Marshall, on his desk, was the little iron stamp of the
+consulate. Protectingly, almost caressingly, he laid his hand upon it.
+
+"I refuse," he corrected, "to place the seal of this consulate on a
+lie."
+
+There was a moment's pause. Miss Cairns, unwilling to remain, and
+unable to withdraw, clasped her hands unhappily and stared at the floor.
+Livingstone exclaimed in indignant protest. Hanley moved a step nearer
+and, to emphasize what he said, tapped his knuckles on the desk. With
+the air of one confident of his advantage, he spoke slowly and softly.
+
+"Do you appreciate," he asked, "that, while you may be of some
+importance down here in this fever swamp, in Washington I am supposed
+to carry some weight? Do you appreciate that I am a senator from a State
+that numbers four millions of people, and that you are preventing me
+from serving those people?"
+
+Marshall inclined his head gravely and politely.
+
+"And I want you to appreciate," he said, "that while I have no weight
+at Washington, in this fever swamp I have the honor to represent eighty
+millions of people, and as long as that consular sign is over my door
+I don't intend to prostitute it for YOU, or the President of the United
+States, or any one of those eighty millions."
+
+
+Of the two men, the first to lower his eyes was Hanley. He laughed
+shortly, and walked to the door. There he turned, and indifferently, as
+though the incident no longer interested him, drew out his watch.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he said, "if the cable is working, I'll take your tin
+sign away from you by sunset."
+
+For one of Marshall's traditions, to such a speech there was no answer
+save silence. He bowed, and, apparently serene and undismayed, resumed
+his seat. From the contest, judging from the manner of each, it was
+Marshall, not Hanley, who had emerged victorious.
+
+But Miss Cairns was not deceived. Under the unexpected blow, Marshall
+had turned older. His clear blue eyes had grown less alert, his broad
+shoulders seemed to stoop. In sympathy, her own eyes filled with sudden
+tears.
+
+"What will you do?" she whispered.
+
+"I don't know what I shall do," said Marshall simply. "I should have
+liked to have resigned. It's a prettier finish. After forty years--to be
+dismissed by cable is--it's a poor way of ending it."
+
+Miss Cairns rose and walked to the door. There she turned and looked
+back.
+
+"I am sorry," she said. And both understood that in saying no more than
+that she had best shown her sympathy.
+
+An hour later the sympathy of Admiral Hardy was expressed more directly.
+
+"If he comes on board my ship," roared that gentleman, "I'll push him
+down an ammunition hoist and break his damned neck!"
+
+Marshall laughed delightedly. The loyalty of his old friend was never so
+welcome.
+
+"You'll treat him with every courtesy," he said. "The only satisfaction
+he gets out of this is to see that he has hurt me. We will not give him
+that satisfaction."
+
+But Marshall found that to conceal his wound was more difficult than
+he had anticipated. When, at tea time, on the deck of the war-ship, he
+again met Senator Hanley and the guests of the SERAPIS, he could not
+forget that his career had come to an end. There was much to remind
+him that this was so. He was made aware of it by the sad, sympathetic
+glances of the women; by their tactful courtesies; by the fact that
+Livingstone, anxious to propitiate Hanley, treated him rudely; by the
+sight of the young officers, each just starting upon a career of honor,
+and possible glory, as his career ended in humiliation; and by the big
+war-ship herself, that recalled certain crises when he had only to press
+a button and war-ships had come at his bidding.
+
+At five o'clock there was an awkward moment. The Royal Mail boat, having
+taken on her cargo, passed out of the harbor on her way to Jamaica, and
+dipped her colors. Senator Hanley, abandoned to his fate, observed her
+departure in silence.
+
+Livingstone, hovering at his side, asked sympathetically: "Have they
+answered your cable, sir?" "They have," said Hanley gruffly.
+
+"Was it--was it satisfactory?" pursued the diplomat. "It WAS," said the
+senator, with emphasis.
+
+Far from discouraged, Livingstone continued his inquiries.
+
+"And when," he asked eagerly, "are you going to tell him?"
+
+"Now!" said the senator.
+
+The guests were leaving the ship. When all were seated in the admiral's
+steam launch, the admiral descended the accommodation ladder and himself
+picked up the tiller ropes.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he called, "when I bring the launch broadside to the
+ship and stop her, you will stand ready to receive the consul's salute."
+
+Involuntarily, Marshall uttered an exclamation of protest. He had
+forgotten that on leaving the war-ship, as consul, he was entitled to
+seven guns. Had he remembered, he would have insisted that the ceremony
+be omitted. He knew that the admiral wished to show his loyalty, knew
+that his old friend was now paying him this honor only as a rebuke to
+Hanley. But the ceremony was no longer an honor. Hanley had made of it a
+mockery. It served only to emphasize what had been taken from him. But,
+without a scene, it now was too late to avoid it. The first of the seven
+guns had roared from the bow, and, as often he had stood before, as
+never he would so stand again, Marshall took his place at the gangway
+of the launch. His eyes were fixed on the flag, his gray head was
+uncovered, his hat was pressed above his heart.
+
+For the first time since Hanley had left the consulate, he fell into
+sudden terror lest he might give way to his emotions. Indignant at the
+thought, he held himself erect. His face was set like a mask, his eyes
+were untroubled. He was determined they should not see that he was
+suffering.
+
+Another gun spat out a burst of white smoke, a stab of flame. There was
+an echoing roar. Another and another followed. Marshall counted seven,
+and then, with a bow to the admiral, backed from the gangway.
+
+And then another gun shattered the hot, heavy silence. Marshall,
+confused, embarrassed, assuming he had counted wrong, hastily returned
+to his place. But again before he could leave it, in savage haste a
+ninth gun roared out its greeting. He could not still be mistaken. He
+turned appealingly to his friend. The eyes of the admiral were fixed
+upon the war-ship. Again a gun shattered the silence. Was it a jest?
+Were they laughing at him? Marshall flushed miserably. He gave a swift
+glance toward the others. They were smiling. Then it was a jest. Behind
+his back, something of which they all were cognizant was going forward.
+The face of Livingstone alone betrayed a like bewilderment to his own.
+But the others, who knew, were mocking him.
+
+For the thirteenth time a gun shook the brooding swamp land of Porto
+Banos. And then, and not until then, did the flag crawl slowly from the
+mast-head. Mary Cairns broke the tenseness by bursting into tears. But
+Marshall saw that every one else, save she and Livingstone, were still
+smiling. Even the bluejackets in charge of the launch were grinning
+at him. He was beset by smiling faces. And then from the war-ship,
+unchecked, came, against all regulations, three long, splendid cheers.
+
+Marshall felt his lips quivering, the warm tears forcing their way to
+his eyes. He turned beseechingly to his friend. His voice trembled.
+
+"Charles," he begged, "are they laughing at me?"
+
+Eagerly, before the other would answer, Senator Hanley tossed his cigar
+into the water and, scrambling forward, seized Marshall by the hand.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he cried, "our President has great faith in Abraham
+Lincoln's judgment of men. And this salute means that this morning
+he appointed you our new minister to The Hague. I'm one of those
+politicians who keeps his word. I TOLD YOU I'd take your tin sign away
+from you by sunset. I've done it!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Consul, by Richard Harding Davis
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+Project Gutenberg Etext of The Consul, by Richard Harding Davis
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+
+
+The Consul
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+THE CONSUL
+
+For over forty years, in one part of the world or another, old man
+Marshall had, served his country as a United States consul. He had
+been appointed by Lincoln. For a quarter of a century that fact was
+his distinction. It was now his epitaph. But in former years, as
+each new administration succeeded the old, it had again and again
+saved his official head. When victorious and voracious
+place-hunters, searching the map of the world for spoils, dug out
+his hiding-place and demanded his consular sign as a reward for a
+younger and more aggressive party worker, the ghost of the dead
+President protected him. In the State Department, Marshall had
+become a tradition. "You can't touch Him!" the State Department
+would say; "why, HE was appointed by Lincoln!" Secretly, for this
+weapon against the hungry headhunters, the department was
+infinitely grateful. Old man Marshall was a consul after its own
+heart. Like a soldier, he was obedient, disciplined; wherever he
+was sent, there, without question, he would go. Never against
+exile, against ill-health, against climate did he make complaint.
+Nor when he was moved on and down to make way for some
+ne'er-do-well with influence, with a brother-in- law in the Senate,
+with a cousin owning a newspaper, with rich relatives who desired
+him to drink himself to death at the expense of the government
+rather than at their own, did old man Marshall point to his record
+as a claim for more just treatment.
+
+And it had been an excellent record. His official reports, in a
+quaint, stately hand, were models of English; full of information,
+intelligent, valuable, well observed. And those few of his
+countrymen, who stumbled upon him in the out-of- the-world places
+to which of late he had been banished, wrote of him to the
+department in terms of admiration and awe. Never had he or his
+friends petitioned for promotion, until it was at last apparent
+that, save for his record and the memory of his dead patron, he had
+no friends. But, still in the department the tradition held and,
+though he was not advanced, he was not dismissed.
+
+"If that old man's been feeding from the public trough ever since
+the Civil War," protested a "practical" politician, "it seems to
+me, Mr. Secretary, that he's about had his share. Ain't it time he
+give some one else a bite? Some of us that has, done the work, that
+has borne the brunt----"
+
+"This place he now holds," interrupted the Secretary of State
+suavely, "is one hardly commensurate with services like yours. I
+can't pronounce the name of it, and I'm not sure just where it is,
+but I see that, of the last six consuls we sent there, three
+resigned within a month and the other three died of yellow-fever.
+Still, if you. insist----"
+
+The practical politician reconsidered hastily. "I'm not the sort,"
+he protested, "to turn out a man appointed by our martyred
+President. Besides, he's so old now, if the fever don't catch him,
+he'll die of old age, anyway."
+
+The Secretary coughed uncomfortably. "And they say," he murmured,
+"republics are ungrateful."
+
+"I don't quite get that," said the practical politician.
+
+Of Porto Banos, of the Republic of Colombia, where as consul Mr.
+Marshall was upholding the dignity of the United States, little
+could be said except that it possessed a sure harbor. When driven
+from the Caribbean Sea by stress of weather, the largest of ocean
+tramps, and even battle-ships, could find in its protecting arms of
+coral a safe shelter. But, as young Mr. Aiken, the wireless
+operator, pointed out, unless driven by a hurricane and the fear of
+death, no one ever visited it. Back of the ancient wharfs, that
+dated from the days when Porto Banos was a receiver of stolen goods
+for buccaneers and pirates, were rows of thatched huts, streets,
+according to the season, of dust or mud, a few iron-barred,
+jail-like barracks, customhouses, municipal buildings, and the
+whitewashed adobe houses of the consuls. The backyard of the town
+was a swamp. Through this at five each morning a rusty engine
+pulled a train of flat cars to the base of the mountains, and, if
+meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into the swamp, at five in
+the evening brought back the flat cars laden with odorous
+coffeesacks.
+
+In the daily life of Porto Banos, waiting for the return of the
+train, and betting if it would return, was the chief interest. Each
+night the consuls, the foreign residents, the wireless operator,
+the manager of the rusty railroad met for dinner. There at the head
+of the long table, by virtue of his years, of his courtesy and
+distinguished manner, of his office, Mr. Marshall presided. Of the
+little band of exiles he was the chosen ruler. His rule was gentle.
+By force of example he had made existence in Porto Banos more
+possible. For women and children Porto Banos was a death-trap, and
+before "old man Marshall" came there had been no influence to
+remind the enforced bachelors of other days.
+
+They had lost interest, had grown lax, irritable, morose. Their
+white duck was seldom white. Their cheeks were unshaven. When the
+sun sank into the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into
+a Turkish bath, they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Cafe
+Bolivar for drinks. The petty gambling led to petty quarrels; the
+drinks to fever. The coming of Mr. Marshall changed that. His
+standard of life, his tact, his worldly wisdom, his cheerful
+courtesy, his fastidious personal neatness shamed the younger men;
+the desire to please him, to, stand well in his good opinion,
+brought back pride and self-esteem.
+
+The lieutenant of her Majesty's gun-boat PLOVER noted the change.
+
+"Used to be," he exclaimed, "you couldn't get out of the Cafe
+Bolivar without some one sticking a knife in you; now it's a
+debating club. They all sit round a table and listen to an old
+gentleman talk world politics."
+
+If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos,
+there was little in return that Porto Banos could give to him.
+Magazines and correspondents in six languages kept him in touch
+with those foreign lands in which he had represented his country,
+but of the country he had represented, newspapers and periodicals
+showed him only too clearly that in forty years it had grown away
+from him, had changed beyond recognition.
+
+When last he had called at the State Department, he had been made
+to feel he was a man without a country, and when he visited his
+home town in Vermont, he was looked upon as a Rip Van Winkle. Those
+of his boyhood friends who were not dead had long thought of him as
+dead. And the sleepy, pretty village had become a bustling
+commercial centre. In the lanes where, as a young man, he had
+walked among wheatfields, trolley-cars whirled between rows of
+mills and factories. The children had grown to manhood, with
+children of their own.
+
+Like a ghost, he searched for house after house, where once he had
+been made welcome, only to find in its place a towering office
+building. "All had gone, the old familiar faces." In vain he
+scanned even the shop fronts for a friendly, homelike name. Whether
+the fault was his, whether he would better have served his own
+interests than those of his government, it now was too late to
+determine. In his own home, he was a stranger among strangers. In
+the service he had so faithfully followed, rank by rank, he had
+been dropped, until now he, who twice had been a consul-general,
+was an exile, banished to a fever swamp. The great Ship of State
+had dropped him overside, had "marooned" him, and sailed away.
+
+Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Cafe Bolivar, and
+back again to the consulate. There, as he entered the outer office,
+Jose" the Colombian clerk, would rise and bow profoundly.
+
+"Any papers for me to sign, Jose? " the consul would ask.
+
+"Not to-day, Excellency, "the clerk would reply. Then Jose would
+return to writing a letter to his lady-love; not that there was
+any-thing to tell her, but because writing on the official paper of
+the consulate gave him importance in his eyes, and in hers. And in
+the inner office the consul would continue to gaze at the empty
+harbor, the empty coral reefs, the empty, burning sky.
+
+The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the
+wireless man came in late to announce that a Red D. boat and the
+island of Curacao had both reported a hurricane coming north. Also,
+that much concern was felt for the safety of the yacht SERAPIS.
+Three days before, in advance of her coming, she had sent a
+wireless to Wilhelmstad, asking the captain of the port to reserve
+a berth for her. She expected to arrive the following morning. But
+for forty-eight hours nothing had been heard from her, and it was
+believed she had been overhauled by the hurricane. Owing to the
+presence on board of Senator Hanley, the closest friend of the new
+President, the man who had made him president, much concern was
+felt at Washington. To try to pick her up by wireless, the gun-boat
+NEWARK had been ordered from Culebra, the cruiser RALEIGH, with
+Admiral Hardy on board, from Colon. It was possible she would seek
+shelter at Porto Banos. The consul was ordered to report.
+
+As Marshall wrote out his answer, the French consul exclaimed with
+interest:
+
+"He is of importance, then, this senator?" he asked. "Is it that in
+your country ships of war are at the service of a senator?"
+
+Aiken, the wireless operator, grinned derisively.
+
+"At the service of THIS senator, they are!" he answered. "They call
+him the 'king-maker,' the man behind the throne."
+
+"But in your country," protested the Frenchman, "there is no
+throne. I thought your president was elected by the people?"
+
+"That's what the people think," answered Aiken. "In God's country,"
+he explained, "the trusts want a rich man in the Senate, with the
+same interests as their own, to represent them. They chose Hanley.
+He picked out of the candidates for the presidency the man he
+thought would help the interests. He nominated him, and the people
+voted for him. Hanley is what we call a 'boss.' "
+
+The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall.
+
+"The position of the boss is the more dangerous," said Marshall
+gravely, "because it is unofficial, because there are no laws to
+curtail his powers. Men like Senator Hanley are a menace to good
+government. They see in public office only a reward for party
+workers."
+
+"That's right," assented Aiken. "Your forty years' service, Mr.
+Consul, wouldn't count with Hanley. If he wanted your job, he'd
+throw you out as quick as he would a drunken cook."
+
+Mr. Marshall flushed painfully, and the French consul hastened to
+interrupt.
+
+"Then, let us pray," he exclaimed, with fervor, "that the hurricane
+has sunk the SERAPIS, and all on board."
+
+Two hours later, the SERAPIS, showing she had met the hurricane and
+had come out second best, steamed into the harbor.
+
+Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone, of Washington. He once had
+been in the diplomatic service, and, as minister to The Hague,
+wished to return to it. In order to bring this about he had
+subscribed liberally to the party campaign fund.
+
+With him, among other distinguished persons, was the all- powerful
+Hanley. The kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise, in itself,
+demonstrated the ability of Livingstone as a diplomat. It was the
+opinion of many that it would surely lead to his appointment as a
+minister plenipotentiary. Livingstone was of the same opinion. He
+had not lived long in the nation's capital without observing the
+value of propinquity. How many men he knew were now paymasters, and
+secretaries of legation, solely because those high in the
+government met them daily at the Metropolitan Club, and preferred
+them in almost any other place. And if, after three weeks as his
+guest on board what the newspapers called his floating palace, the
+senator could refuse him even the prize, legation of Europe, there
+was no value in modest merit. As yet, Livingstone had not hinted at
+his ambition. There was no need. To a statesman of Hanley's
+astuteness, the largeness of Livingstone's contribution to the
+campaign fund was self- explanatory.
+
+After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board
+the SERAPIS seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto
+Banos, a compelling attraction. Before the anchors hit the water,
+they were in the launch. On reaching shore, they made at once for
+the consulate. There were many cables they wished to start on their
+way by wireless; cables to friends, to newspapers, to the
+government.
+
+Jose, the Colombian clerk, appalled by the unprecedented invasion
+of visitors, of visitors so distinguished, and Marshall, grateful
+for a chance to serve his fellow- countrymen, and especially his
+countrywomen, were ubiquitous, eager, indispensable. At Jose's desk
+the great senator, rolling his cigar between his teeth, was using,
+to Jose's ecstasy, Jose's own pen to write a reassuring message to
+the White House. At the consul's desk a beautiful creature, all in
+lace and pearls, was struggling to compress the very low opinion
+she held of a hurricane into ten words. On his knee, Henry Cairns,
+the banker, was inditing instructions to his Wall Street office,
+and upon himself Livingstone had taken the responsibility of
+replying to the inquiries heaped upon Marshall's desk, from many
+newspapers.
+
+It was just before sunset, and Marshall produced his tea things,
+and the young person in pearls and lace, who was Miss Cairns, made
+tea for the women, and the men mixed gin and limes with tepid
+water. The consul apologized for proposing a toast in which they
+could not join. He begged to drink to those who had escaped the
+perils of the sea. Had they been his oldest and nearest friends,
+his little speech could not have been more heart-felt and sincere.
+To his distress, it moved one of the ladies to tears, and in
+embarrassment he turned to the men.
+
+"I regret there is no ice," he said, "but you know the rule of the
+tropics; as soon as a ship enters port, the ice- machine bursts."
+
+"I'll tell the steward to send you some, sir," said Livingstone,
+"and as long as we're here."
+
+The senator showed his concern.
+
+"As long as we're here?" he gasped.
+
+"Not over two days," answered the owner nervously. "The chief says
+it will take all of that to get her in shape. As you ought to know,
+Senator, she was pretty badly mauled."
+
+The senator gazed blankly out of the window. Beyond it lay the
+naked coral reefs, the empty sky, and the ragged palms of Porto
+Banos.
+
+Livingstone felt that his legation was slipping from him.
+
+"That wireless operator," he continued hastily, "tells me there is
+a most amusing place a few miles down the coast, Las Bocas, a sort
+of Coney Island, where the government people go for the summer.
+There's surf bathing and roulette and cafes chantants. He says
+there's some Spanish dancers----"
+
+The guests of the SERAPIS exclaimed with interest; the senator
+smiled. To Marshall the general enthusiasm over the thought of a
+ride on a merry-go-round suggested that the friends of Mr.
+Livingstone had found their own society far from satisfying.
+
+Greatly encouraged, Livingstone continued, with enthusiasm:
+
+"And that wireless man said," he added, "that with the launch we
+can get there in half an hour. We might run down after dinner." He
+turned to Marshall.
+
+"Will you join us, Mr. Consul?" he asked, "and dine with us,
+first?"
+
+Marshall accepted with genuine pleasure. It had been many months
+since he had sat at table with his own people. But he shook his
+head doubtfully.
+
+"I was wondering about Las Bocas," he explained, "if your going
+there might not get you in trouble at the next port. With a yacht,
+I think it is different, but Las Bocas is under quarantine"
+
+There was a chorus of exclamations.
+
+"It's not serious," Marshall explained. "There was bubonic plague
+there, or something like it. You would be in no danger from that.
+It is only that you might be held up by the regulations. Passenger
+steamers can't land any one who has been there at any other port of
+the
+
+West Indies. The English are especially strict. The Royal Mail
+won't even receive any one on board here without a certificate from
+the English consul saying he has not visited Las Bocas. For an
+American they would require the same guarantee from me. But I don't
+think the regulations extend to yachts. I will inquire. I don't
+wish to deprive you of any of the many pleasures of Porto Banos,"
+he added, smiling, "but if you were refused a landing at your next
+port I would blame myself."
+
+"It's all right," declared Livingstone decidedly. "It's just as you
+say; yachts and warships are exempt. Besides, I carry my own
+doctor, and if he won't give us a clean bill of health, I'll make
+him walk the plank. At eight, then, at dinner. I'll send the cutter
+for you. I can't give you a salute, Mr. Consul, but you shall have
+all the side boys I can muster."
+
+Those from the yacht parted from their consul in the most friendly
+spirit.
+
+"I think he's charming!" exclaimed Miss Cairns. "And did you notice
+his novels? They were in every language. It must be terribly lonely
+down here, for a man like that."
+
+"He's the first of our consuls we've met on this trip," growled her
+father, "that we've caught sober."
+
+"Sober!" exclaimed his wife indignantly.
+
+"He's one of the Marshalls of Vermont. I asked him."
+
+"I wonder," mused Hanley, "how much the place is worth? Hamilton,
+one of the new senators, has been deviling the life out of me to
+send his son somewhere. Says if he stays in Washington he'll
+disgrace the family. I should think this place would drive any man
+to drink himself to death in three months, and young Hamilton, from
+what I've seen of him, ought to be able to do it in a week. That
+would leave the place open for the next man."
+
+"There's a postmaster in my State thinks he carried it." The
+senator smiled grimly. "He has consumption, and wants us to give
+him a consulship in the tropics. I'll tell him I've seen Porto
+Banos, and that it's just the place for him."
+
+The senator's pleasantry was not well received. But Miss Cairns
+alone had the temerity to speak of what the others were thinking.
+
+"What would become of Mr. Marshall?" she asked. The senator smiled
+tolerantly.
+
+"I don't know that I was thinking of Mr. Marshall," he said. "I
+can't recall anything he has done for this administration. You see,
+Miss Cairns," he explained, in the tone of one addressing a small
+child, "Marshall has been abroad now for forty years, at the
+expense of the taxpayers. Some of us think men who have lived that
+long on their fellow-countrymen had better come home and get to
+work."
+
+Livingstone nodded solemnly in assent. He did not wish a post
+abroad at the expense of the taxpayers. He was willing to pay for
+it. And then, with "ex-Minister" on his visiting cards, and a sense
+of duty well performed, for the rest of his life he could join the
+other expatriates in Paris.
+
+Just before dinner, the cruiser RALEIGH having discovered the
+whereabouts of the SERAPIS by wireless, entered the harbor, and
+Admiral Hardy came to the yacht to call upon the senator, in whose
+behalf he had been scouring the Caribbean Seas. Having paid his
+respects to that personage, the admiral fell boisterously upon
+Marshall.
+
+The two old gentlemen were friends of many years. They had met,
+officially and unofficially, in many strange parts of the world. To
+each the chance reunion was a piece of tremendous good fortune. And
+throughout dinner the guests of Livingstone, already bored with
+each other, found in them and their talk of former days new and
+delightful entertainment. So much so that when, Marshall having
+assured them that the local quarantine regulations did not extend
+to a yacht, the men departed for Las Bocas, the women insisted that
+he and admiral remain behind.
+
+It was for Marshall a wondrous evening. To foregather with his old
+friend whom he had known since Hardy was a mad midshipman, to sit
+at the feet of his own charming countrywomen, to listen to their
+soft, modulated laughter, to note how quickly they saw that to him
+the evening was a great event, and with what tact each contributed
+to make it the more memorable; all served to wipe out the months of
+bitter loneliness, the stigma of failure, the sense of undeserved
+neglect. In the moonlight, on the cool quarter- deck, they sat, in
+a half-circle, each of the two friends telling tales out of school,
+tales of which the other was the hero or the victim, "inside"
+stories of great occasions, ceremonies, bombardments, unrecorded
+"shirt-sleeve" diplomacy.
+
+Hardy had helped to open the Suez Canal. Marshall had assisted the
+Queen of Madagascar to escape from the French invaders. On the
+Barbary Coast Hardy had chased pirates. In Edinburgh Marshall had
+played chess with Carlyle. He had seen Paris in mourning in the
+days of the siege, Paris in terror in the days of the Commune; he
+had known Garibaldi, Gambetta, the younger Dumas, the creator of
+Pickwick.
+
+"Do you remember that time in Tangier," the admiral urged, when I
+was a midshipman, and got into the bashaw's harem?"
+
+"Do you remember how I got you out? Marshall replied grimly.
+
+"And," demanded Hardy, "do you remember when Adelina Patti paid a
+visit to the KEARSARGE at Marseilles in '65--George Dewey was our
+second officer--and you were bowing and backing away from her, and
+you backed into an open hatch, and she said 'my French isn't up to
+it' what was it she said?"
+
+"I didn't hear it," said Marshall; "I was too far down the hatch."
+
+"Do you mean the old KEARSARGE?" asked Mrs. Cairns. "Were you in
+the service then, Mr. Marshall? "
+
+With loyal pride in his friend, the admiral answered for him:
+
+"He was our consul-general at Marseilles!"
+
+There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination
+could not escape the contrast, could see in their mind's eye the
+great harbor of Marseilles, crowded with the shipping of the world,
+surrounding it the beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north,
+and on the battleship the young consul-general making his bow to
+the young Empress of Song. And now, before their actual eyes, they
+saw the village of Porto Banos, a black streak in the night, a row
+of mud shacks, at the end of the wharf a single lantern yellow in
+the clear moonlight.
+
+Later in the evening Miss Cairns led the admiral to one side.
+
+"Admiral," she began eagerly, "tell me about your friend. Why is he
+here? Why don't they give him a place worthy of him? I've seen many
+of our representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste
+men like that." The girl exclaimed indignantly: " He's one of the
+most interesting men I've ever met! He's lived everywhere, known
+every one. He's a distinguished man, a cultivated man; even I can
+see he knows his work, that he's a diplomat, born, trained, that
+he's----" The admiral interrupted with a growl.
+
+"You don't have to tell ME about Henry," he protested. "I've known
+Henry twenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts," he exclaimed
+hotly, "he wouldn't be a consul on this coral reef; he'd be a
+minister in Europe. Look at me! We're the same age. We started
+together. When Lincoln sent him to Morocco as consul, he signed my
+commission as a midshipman. Now I'm an admiral. Henry has twice my
+brains and he's been a consul- general, and he's HERE, back at the
+foot of the ladder!"
+
+"Why?" demanded the girl.
+
+"Because the navy is a service and the consular service isn't a
+service. Men like Senator Hanley use it to pay their debts. While
+Henry's been serving his country abroad, he's lost his friends,
+lost his 'pull.' Those politicians up at Washington have no use for
+him. They don't consider that a consul like Henry can make a
+million dollars for his countrymen. He can keep them from shipping
+goods where there's no market, show them where there is a market."
+The admiral snorted contemptuously. "You don't have to tell ME the
+value of a good consul. But those politicians don't consider that.
+They only see that he has a job worth a few hundred dollars, and
+they want it, and if he hasn't other politicians to protect him,
+they'll take it." The girl raised her head.
+
+"Why don't you speak to the senator?" she asked. "Tell him you've
+known him for years, that----"
+
+"Glad to do it!" exclaimed the admiral heartily. " It won't be the
+first time. But Henry mustn't know. He's too confoundedly touchy.
+He hates the IDEA of influence, hates men like Hanley, who abuse
+it. If he thought anything was given to him except on his merits,
+he wouldn't take it."
+
+"Then we won't tell him, " said the girl. For a moment she
+hesitated.
+
+"If I spoke to Mr. Hanley," she asked, "told him what I learned
+to-night of Mr. Marshall, "would it have any effect?"
+
+"Don't know how it will affect Hanley, said the sailor, "but if you
+asked me to make anybody a consul-general, I'd make him an
+ambassador."
+
+Later in the evening Hanley and Livingstone were seated alone on
+deck. The visit to Las Bocas had not proved amusing, but, much to
+Livingstone's relief, his honored guest was now in good-humor. He
+took his cigar from his lips, only to sip at a long cool drink. He
+was in a mood flatteringly confidential and communicative.
+
+"People have the strangest idea of what I can do for them," he
+laughed. It was his pose to pretend he was without authority. "They
+believe I've only to wave a wand, and get them anything they want.
+I thought I'd be safe from them on board a yacht."
+
+Livingstone, in ignorance of what was coming, squirmed
+apprehensively.
+
+"But it seems," the senator went on, " I'm at the mercy of a
+conspiracy. The women folk want me to do something for this fellow
+Marshall. If they had their way, they'd send him to the Court of
+St. James. And old Hardy, too, tackled me about him. So did Miss
+Cairns.
+
+And then Marshall himself got me behind the wheel-house, and I
+thought he was going to tell me how good he was, too I But he
+didn't."
+
+As though the joke were on himself, the senator laughed
+appreciatively.
+
+"Told me, instead, that Hardy ought to be a vice-admiral."
+
+Livingstone, also, laughed, with the satisfied air of one who
+cannot be tricked.
+
+"They fixed it up between them," he explained, " each was to put in
+a good word for the other." He nodded eagerly. "That's what I
+think."
+
+There were moments during the cruise when Senator Hanley would have
+found relief in dropping his host overboard. With mock deference,
+the older man inclined his head.
+
+"That's what you think, is it?" he asked. "Livingstone," he added,
+"you certainly are a great judge of men!"
+
+The next morning, old man Marshall woke with a lightness at his
+heart that had been long absent. For a moment, conscious only that
+he was happy, he lay between sleep and waking, frowning up at his
+canopy of mosquito net, trying to realize what change had come to
+him. Then he remembered. His old friend had returned. New friends
+had come into his life and welcomed him kindly. He was no longer
+lonely. As eager as a boy, he ran to the window. He had not been
+dreaming. In the harbor lay the pretty yacht, the stately,
+white-hulled war- ship. The flag that drooped from the stern of
+each caused his throat to tighten, brought warm tears to his eyes,
+fresh resolve to his discouraged, troubled spirit. When he knelt
+beside his bed, his heart poured out his thanks in gratitude and
+gladness.
+
+While he was dressing, a blue-jacket brought a note from the
+admiral. It invited him to tea on board the war-ship, with the
+guests of the SERAPIS. His old friend added that he was coming to
+lunch with his consul, and wanted time reserved for a long talk.
+The consul agreed gladly. He was in holiday humor. The day promised
+to repeat the good moments of the night previous.
+
+At nine o'clock, through the open door of the consulate, Marshall
+saw Aiken, the wireless operator, signaling from the wharf
+excitedly to the yacht, and a boat leave the ship and return.
+Almost immediately the launch, carrying several passengers, again
+made the trip shoreward.
+
+Half an hour later, Senator Hanley, Miss Cairns, and Livingstone
+came up the waterfront, and entering the consulate, seated
+themselves around Marshall's desk. Livingstone was sunk in
+melancholy. The senator, on. the contrary, was smiling broadly. His
+manner was one of distinct relief. He greeted the consul with
+hearty good-humor.
+
+"I'm ordered home!" he announced gleefully. Then, remembering the
+presence of Livingstone, he hastened to add: "I needn't say how
+sorry I am to give up my yachting trip, but orders are orders. The
+President," he explained to Marshall, " cables me this morning to
+come back and take my coat off." The prospect, as a change from
+playing bridge on a pleasure boat, seemed far from depressing him.
+
+"Those filibusters in the Senate," he continued genially, "are
+making trouble again. They think they've got me out of the way for
+another month, but they'll find they're wrong. When that bill comes
+up, they'll find me at the old stand and ready for business!"
+Marshall did not attempt to conceal his personal disappointment.
+
+"I am so sorry you are leaving," he said; "selfishly sorry, I mean.
+I'd hoped you all would be here for several days." He looked
+inquiringly toward Livingstone.
+
+"I understood the SERAPIS was disabled," he explained.
+
+"She is," answered Hanley. "So's the RALEIGH. At a pinch, the
+admiral might have stretched the regulations and carried me to
+Jamaica, but the RALEIGH's engines are knocked about too. I've GOT
+to reach Kingston Thursday. The German boat leaves there Thursday
+for New York. At first it looked as though I couldn't do it, but we
+find that the Royal Mail is due to- day, and she can get to
+Kingston Wednesday night. It's a great piece of luck. I wouldn't
+bother you with my troubles, "the senator explained pleasantly,
+"but the agent of the Royal Mail here won't sell me a ticket until
+you've put your seal to this." He extended a piece of printed
+paper.
+
+As Hanley had been talking, the face of the consul had grown grave.
+He accepted the paper, but did not look at it. Instead, he regarded
+the senator with troubled eyes. When he spoke, his tone was one of
+genuine concern.
+
+"It is most unfortunate," he said. "But I am afraid the ROYAL MAIL
+will not take you on board. Because of Las Bocas," he explained.
+"If we had only known!" he added remorsefully. "It is MOST
+unfortunate."
+
+"Because of Las Bocas?" echoed Hanley.
+
+"You don't mean they'll refuse to take me to Jamaica because I
+spent half an hour at the end of a wharf listening to a squeaky
+gramophone?"
+
+"The trouble," explained Marshall, "is this: if they carried you,
+all the other passengers would be held in quarantine for ten days,
+and there are fines to pay, and there would be difficulties over
+the mails. But," he added hopefully, "maybe the regulations have
+been altered. I will see her captain, and tell him----"
+
+"See her captain!" objected Hanley. "Why see the captain? He
+doesn't know I've been to that place. Why tell him? All I need is
+a clean bill of health from you. That's all HE wants. You have only
+to sign that paper." Marshall regarded the senator with surprise.
+
+"But I can't," he said.
+
+"You can't? Why not?"
+
+"Because it certifies to the fact that you have not visited Las
+Bocas. Unfortunately, you have visited Las Bocas."
+
+The senator had been walking up and down the room. Now he seated
+himself, and stared at Marshall curiously.
+
+"It's like this, Mr. Marshall," he began quietly. "The President
+desires my presence in Washington, thinks I can be of some use to
+him there in helping carry out certain party measures--measures to
+which he pledged himself before his election. Down here, a British
+steamship line has laid down local rules which, in my case anyway,
+are ridiculous. The question is, are you going to be bound by the
+red tape of a ha'penny British colony, or by your oath to the
+President of the United States?"
+
+The sophistry amused Marshall. He smiled good-naturedly and shook
+his head.
+
+"I'm afraid, Senator," he said, "that way of putting it is hardly
+fair. Unfortunately, the question is one of fact. I will explain to
+the captain----"
+
+"You will explain nothing to the captain!" interrupted Hanley.
+"This is a matter which concerns no one but our two selves. I am
+not asking favors of steamboat captains. I am asking an American
+consul to assist an American citizen in trouble, and, "he added,
+with heavy sarcasm, "incidentally, to carry out the wishes of his
+President."
+
+Marshall regarded the senator with an expression of both surprise
+and disbelief.
+
+"Are you asking me to put my name to what is not so?" he said. "Are
+you serious?"
+
+"That paper, Mr. Marshall," returned Hanley steadily, "is a mere
+form, a piece of red tape. There's no more danger of my carrying
+the plague to Jamaica than of my carrying a dynamite bomb. You KNOW
+that."
+
+"I DO know that," assented Marshall heartily."I appreciate your
+position, and I regret it exceedingly. You are the innocent victim
+of a regulation which is a wise regulation, but which is most
+unfair to you. My own position," he added, "is not important, but
+you can believe me, it is not easy. It is certainly no pleasure for
+me to be unable to help you."
+
+Hanley was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes
+watching Marshall closely. "Then you refuse?" he said. "Why?"
+
+Marshall regarded the senator steadily. His manner was untroubled.
+The look he turned upon Hanley was one of grave disapproval.
+
+"You know why," he answered quietly. "It is impossible."
+
+In sudden anger Hanley rose. Marshall, who had been seated behind
+his desk, also rose. For a moment, in silence, the two men
+confronted each other. Then Hanley spoke; his tone was harsh and
+threatening.
+
+"Then I am to understand," he exclaimed, "that you refuse to carry
+out the wishes of a United States Senator and of the President of
+the United States?"
+
+In front of Marshall, on his desk, was the little iron stamp of the
+consulate. Protectingly, almost caressingly, he laid his hand upon
+it.
+
+"I refuse," he corrected, "to place the seal of this consulate on
+a lie."
+
+There was a moment's pause. Miss Cairns, unwilling to remain, and
+unable to withdraw, clasped her hands unhappily and stared at the
+floor. Livingstone exclaimed in indignant protest. Hanley moved a
+step nearer and, to emphasize what he said, tapped his knuckles on
+the desk. With the air of one confident of his advantage, he spoke
+slowly and softly.
+
+"Do you appreciate," he asked, "that, while you may be of some
+importance down here in this fever swamp, in Washington I am
+supposed to carry some weight? Do you appreciate that I am a
+senator from a State that numbers four millions of people, and that
+you are preventing me from serving those people?"
+ Marshall inclined his head gravely and politely.
+ "And I want you to appreciate," he said, "that while I have no
+weight at Washington, in this fever swamp I have the honor to
+represent eighty millions of people, and as long as that consular
+sign is over my door I don't intend to prostitute it for YOU, or
+the President of the United States, or any one of those eighty
+millions."
+
+
+Of the two men, the first to lower his eyes was Hanley. He laughed
+shortly, and walked to the door. There he turned, and
+indifferently, as though the incident no longer interested him,
+drew out his watch.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he said, "if the cable is working, I'll take your
+tin sign away from you by sunset."
+
+For one of Marshall's traditions, to such a speech there was no
+answer save silence. He bowed, and, apparently serene and
+undismayed, resumed his seat. From the contest, judging from the
+manner of each, it was Marshall, not Hanley, who had emerged
+victorious.
+
+But Miss Cairns was not deceived. Under the unexpected blow,
+Marshall had turned older. His clear blue eyes had grown less
+alert, his broad shoulders seemed to stoop. In sympathy, her own
+eyes filled with sudden tears.
+
+"What will you do?" she whispered.
+
+"I don't know what I shall do," said Marshall simply. "I should
+have liked to have resigned. It's a prettier finish. After forty
+years--to be dismissed by cable is--it's a poor way of ending it."
+
+Miss Cairns rose and walked to the door. There she turned and
+looked back.
+
+"I am sorry," she said. And both understood that in saying no more
+than that she had best shown her sympathy.
+
+An hour later the sympathy of Admiral Hardy was expressed more
+directly.
+
+"If he comes on board my ship," roared that gentleman, "I'll push
+him down an ammunition hoist and break his damned neck!"
+
+Marshall laughed delightedly. The loyalty of his old friend was
+never so welcome.
+
+"You'll treat him with every courtesy," he said. "The only
+satisfaction he gets out of this is to see that he has hurt me. We
+will not give him that satisfaction."
+
+But Marshall found that to conceal his wound was more difficult
+than he had anticipated. When, at tea time, on the deck of the
+war-ship, he again met Senator Hanley and the guests of the
+SERAPIS, he could not forget that his career had come to an end.
+There was much to remind him that this was so. He was made aware of
+it by the sad, sympathetic glances of the women; by their tactful
+courtesies; by the fact that Livingstone, anxious to propitiate
+Hanley, treated him rudely; by the sight of the young officers,
+each just starting upon a career of honor, and possible glory, as
+his career ended in humiliation; and by the big war-ship herself,
+that recalled certain crises when he had only to press a button and
+war-ships had come at his bidding.
+
+At five o'clock there was an awkward moment. The Royal Mail boat,
+having taken on her cargo, passed out of the harbor on her way to
+Jamaica, and dipped her colors. Senator Hanley, abandoned to his
+fate, observed her departure in silence.
+
+Livingstone, hovering at his side, asked sympathetically: "Have
+they answered your cable, sir?" "They have," said Hanley gruffly.
+
+"Was it--was it satisfactory?" pursued the diplomat. "It WAS," said
+the senator, with emphasis.
+
+Far from discouraged, Livingstone continued his inquiries.
+
+"And when," he asked eagerly, "are you going to tell him?"
+
+"Now!" said the senator.
+
+The guests were leaving the ship. When all were seated in the
+admiral's steam launch, the admiral descended the accommodation
+ladder and himself picked up the tiller ropes.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he called, "when I bring the launch broadside to
+the ship and stop her, you will stand ready to receive the consul's
+salute."
+
+Involuntarily, Marshall uttered an exclamation of protest. He had
+forgotten that on leaving the war-ship, as consul, he was entitled
+to seven guns. Had he remembered, he would have insisted that the
+ceremony be omitted. He knew that the admiral wished to show his
+loyalty, knew that his old friend was now paying him this honor
+only as a rebuke to Hanley. But the ceremony was no longer an
+honor. Hanley had made of it a mockery. It served only to emphasize
+what had been taken from him. But, without a scene, it now was too
+late to avoid it. The first of the seven guns had roared from the
+bow, and, as often he had stood before, as never he would so stand
+again, Marshall took his place at the gangway of the launch. His
+eyes were fixed on the flag, his gray head was uncovered, his hat
+was pressed above his heart.
+
+For the first time since Hanley had left the consulate, he fell
+into sudden terror lest he might give way to his emotions.
+Indignant at the thought, he held himself erect. His face was set
+like a mask, his eyes were untroubled. He was determined they
+should not see that he was suffering.
+
+Another gun spat out a burst of white smoke, a stab of flame. There
+was an echoing roar. Another and another followed. Marshall counted
+seven, and then, with a bow to the admiral, backed from the
+gangway.
+
+And then another gun shattered the hot, heavy silence. Marshall,
+confused, embarrassed, assuming he had counted wrong, hastily
+returned to his place. But again before he could leave it, in
+savage haste a ninth gun roared out its greeting. He could not
+still be mistaken. He turned appealingly to his friend. The eyes of
+the admiral were fixed upon the war-ship. Again a gun shattered the
+silence. Was it a jest? Were they laughing at him? Marshall flushed
+miserably. He gave a swift glance toward the others. They were
+smiling. Then it was a jest. Behind his back, something of which
+they all were cognizant was going forward. The face of Livingstone
+alone betrayed a like bewilderment to his own. But the others, who
+knew, were mocking him.
+
+For the thirteenth time a gun shook the brooding swamp land of
+Porto Banos. And then, and not until then, did the flag crawl
+slowly from the mast-head. Mary Cairns broke the tenseness by
+bursting into tears. But Marshall saw that every one else, save she
+and Livingstone, were still smiling. Even the bluejackets in charge
+of the launch were grinning at him. He was beset by smiling faces.
+And then from the war-ship, unchecked, came, against all
+regulations, three long, splendid cheers.
+
+Marshall felt his lips quivering, the warm tears forcing their way
+to his eyes. He turned beseechingly to his friend. His voice
+trembled.
+
+"Charles," he begged, "are they laughing at me?"
+
+Eagerly, before the other would answer, Senator Hanley tossed his
+cigar into the water and, scrambling forward, seized Marshall by
+the hand.
+
+"Mr. Marshall," he cried, "our President has great faith in Abraham
+Lincoln's judgment of men. And this salute means that this morning
+he appointed you our new minister to The Hague. I'm one of those
+politicians who keeps his word. I TOLD YOU I'd take your tin sign
+away from you by sunset. I've done it!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext of The Consul, by Richard Harding Davis
+
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