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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f918107 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50272 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50272) diff --git a/old/50272-0.txt b/old/50272-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b16cc79..0000000 --- a/old/50272-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6178 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cruise of The Violetta, by Arthur Colton - -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'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Cruise of The Violetta - -Author: Arthur Colton - -Release Date: October 21, 2015 [EBook #50272] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - - -THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA - -By Arthur Colton - -New York - -Henry Holt And Company - -1906 - - -[Illustration: 0001] - - -[Illustration: 0009] - - -IN MEMORIAM - -C. W. Wells - -DEDICATED TO - -HARRY L. PANGBORN and - -GEORGIA W. PANGBORN - -THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA - - - - -CHAPTER I--DR. ULSWATER - -|IN the Fall of the year when Krakatoa blew its head off in the East -Indies, and sent its dust around the world, I fell sick of a fever -in the city of Portate, which is on the west coast of South America. -Portate had the latest brand of municipal enterprise and the oldest -brand of fever. But they call any kind of sickness a fever there, to -save trouble, and bury the alien with as little trouble as possible. -I started for home, and came as far as Nassau, which is a town in the -Bahamas. There, a wasted and dismal shape, I somehow fell into the hands -of one Dr. Ulswater, who tended and medicined by back into the world of -sunlight and other interesting objects. - -Nassau runs up the side of a bluff and overlooks a blue and dimpled -harbour. Dr. Ulswater at last began to take me with him, to lie on the -rocks and watch him search in the harbour shoals for small cuttlefish. -He used a three-pronged spear to stir them out of their lairs, and a -long knife to put into their vital points with skilful surgery. -They waved and slapped their wild blistered arms around his neck and -shoulders, while he poked placidly into their vitality. So, being -entertained and happy, I recovered from yellow fever. - -By that time my handsome name, given by parents who recognised my -merits, “Christopher Kirby,” had come down handily in Dr. Ulswater's -usage to “Kit,” and we loved each other as two men can who are to each -other a perpetual entertainment. - -Dr. Ulswater was a large, bushy man in the prime of a varied life. Born -an American, he had studied in German universities, practised medicine -in Italy, and afterward in Ceylon. One of his hobbies was South-American -archaeology. He owned a silver mine in Nevada, and kept a sort of -residence in New York at this time, and was collecting specimens for -a New England museum. So that he was what you might call a distributed -man, for he had been in most countries of the globe; yet he was not a -“globe-trotter,” but rather a floater,--in a manner resembling sea-weed, -that drifts from place to place, but, wherever it drifts or clings, is -tranquil and accommodating. He seemed to me suitable to the tropics and -their seas,--large, easy, and warm of body; his learning like the sea, -mysterious and bottomless; his mind luxuriously fertile, but somewhat -ungoverned. His idioms were mixed, his conversations opalescent; his -criticism of himself was that he had not personality enough. - -“No, my dear,” he said, wrapping a dead cuttlefish up neatly in its own -arms, “I am like a cuttlefish whose vital point is loose. You are -an ignorant person, with prepossessions beyond belief, and absurd -deferences for clothing and cleanliness; but you have personality and -entertaining virtues. Therefore I will let you smoke two cigars to-night -instead of one, and to-morrow maybe three, for your sickness is becoming -an hypocrisy.” Then we went over the rocks to our boat and the sulky -sleepy negro boatman, the doctor with his flabby bundled cuttlefish, and -I with a basket full of coral and conch-shells. The boatman rowed us out -over a sea garden with submerged coral grottos; pink and white coral, -branching and the “brain” coral, sea-fans and purple sea-feathers, coral -shrubs, coral in shelving masses; also sponges, and green hanging moss, -and yellow, emerald, and scarlet fish, silver, satin, ringed, fringed, -spotted;--all deep beneath in their liquid, deluding atmosphere,--a cold -vision, outlandish, brilliant, and grotesque, over which we floated and -looked down. - -“Hypocrisy, pretence, illusion!” went on Dr. Ulswater. “Yet we attach to -these words a meaning of praise or condemnation which begs the question. -The personality is all, the point of view. To observe an alcyonoid polyp -through thirty feet of water, an ineffable vision! or under a microscope -which pronounces the ineffable vision hypocrisy, pretence, illusion!--in -which is there more truth? Is not my hypocrisy an intimate truth of me? -Hanged if I know! There is a new yacht in the harbour. We will go to -it.” - -And we moved across the calm glassy harbour toward the long white steam -yacht. - -It was a handsome sea-going vessel. Its brasses glistened in the -afternoon sunlight. _Violetta_ was its gilt-lettered name. Sailors were -busy forward, and a striped awning was over the after-deck. As we drew -near, a woman stood up under the awning and came over to the rail; she -had some knitting in her hands. I asked if we might come aboard, and -the doctor grumbled at me in disgust,--something about “frizzle-brained -women.” - -“Of course you can,” she said, decisively. “Wait till they bring the -steps,” and she disappeared. - -“Ha!” he said, “steps! And a Middle West accent! Very good.” - -We went aboard, leaving the negro in his boat, and under the striped -awning made the acquaintance of Mrs. Mink and a stout, blond-bearded -sailing-master, Captain Jansen. - - - - -CHAPTER II--MRS. MINK - - -|MRS. MINK was a pleasant looking woman, though somewhat thin, and -with sharp gray eyes. She wore a plain, neat black dress, such as a -self-respecting woman might wear to church in some small inland city. -A large flowered rug covered the deck, a round mahogany table in the -middle of it. There were a hammock and a number of upholstered chairs, -each with a doily on the back of it. A work-basket stood on the table, -brimming with sewing materials. A white crocheted shawl hung on the back -of a chair, a red paper lampshade over the electric bulb. - -The scene wakened sleeping associations of mine. Just such a shawl -my maiden aunts wore in Connecticut, just such doilies were on their -rocking chairs, just such flowered carpets were in their parlours. They -dressed like Mrs. Mink too, but, to the best of my recollection, were -not so agreeable to look at. - -That weird glistening sea garden of coral and purple feathers and -improbable fish was fresh in my mind, with Dr. Ulswater's talk, both -undomestic, paradoxical, and showing coloured objects slumberously -afloat in a transparent and deluding element. The wide blue harbour; the -steep white town buried in tropical foliage; the big spruce yacht, -too; the yellow-bearded Swede Jansen, and the crew in flat caps and -jumpers--all these belonged to the world as I had known it of later -years. With the line of the awning came the abrupt change; there ruled -the flowered carpet, the centre table, the doilies, the provincial -feminine touch, the tradition and influence of a million parlours -and “sitting rooms” of the States. One missed the wall paper, and -mantelpiece, the insipid and carefully framed print, and the black -stove; but Mrs. Mink seemed to have made herself at home, so far as she -was able, and the effect was homelike. - -All this while Mrs. Mink looked critical, and Dr. Ulswater was -introducing himself and me, and presently I became aware that Mrs. Mink -was telling Dr. Ulswater her story. - -It appeared that she came from the small city of Potterville, Ohio, -whose aspect might be inferred and pictured--a half-dozen brick business -blocks, a railway station, a dozen churches, dusty streets, -board sidewalks, maples for shade trees--mainly young and not too -healthy--clapboarded frame houses with narrow piazzas, a thin, -monotonous current of social talk, a limited and local existence. - -Until the year before, the fortunes of Mrs. Mink had hardly led her -beyond the borders of the State, nor away from Potterville for more than -a few days. - -Mr. Mink, a silent, plodding man--as I gathered--a banker, counted a -well-to-do citizen, but not suspected of unusual wealth, had died the -year before, of a natural and normal sickness. There must have been a -secretive element in him, something now forever unexplained. He had -sat at his desk in his bank. Away from the bank he had never alluded -to business. He had not liked any habits to be altered. No one in -Potterville, not even the bank cashier, certainly not Mrs. Mink, -suspected that Potterville harboured a millionaire. But when Mrs. Mink -found herself a widow of extensive and varied wealth, she set herself -to consider the situation. So far the story was partly inferential. Mrs. -Mink spoke with some reserve. - -When the size of her income was explained to her by her lawyer, who was -also her neighbour, she cried, in some alarm, “What _shall_ I do?” - -He said: “Get a steam yacht. Go into high society, and found a college. -Spend it on the heathen. Make your name immortal in Potterville.” - -“But,” said Mrs. Mink, narratively, “I thought those were too many -different things. But when I was little I often wished I could see the -equator, and now I rather wanted to see the heathen, and the idols -that have pictures in Sunday-school quarterlies. The more I thought of -parrots and monkeys and bananas and Foreign Missions, the more I knew -what I ought to do first. Because I knew more about Foreign Missions -than about colleges, and I thought tropical countries would be nicer -than high society.” - -“Admirable!” cried Dr. Ulswater, suddenly. “What logic! For subtle -inference and accurate reasoning, look at that!” - -Mrs. Mink looked surprised. - -“But I felt sure that it would be better to be comfortable while I was -examining the missions, so I went to the lawyer, and he sent me to some -people who made ships. After that everything was plain.” - -“Plain!” cried Dr. Ulswater. “It's a syllogism.” - -“The ship-dealer was very kind,” said Mrs. Mink, reflecting. “He got -the _Violetta_ and Captain Jansen. It has been quite pleasant so far. -But----” She hesitated. - -“But you haven't yet seen what you seek for,” said Dr. Ulswater. “You -have taken but a step into the imperium of the tropics. You have far to -go. I have been on the road these twenty years. Imprimis, I will show -you the model upon which the heathen idol is constructed.” - -He brought up the cuttlefish from the boat and unbundled it. Mrs. Mink -thought it was somewhat uglier than any pictures of heathen idols. - -“The faith of the savage is based upon fear in the midst of wonder,” - said Dr. Ulswater. “This is an incarnate terror and obscure nightmare -seen moving through ineffable sea gardens. Behold the seed of religions. -You are wise, madam, in desiring to see and to hear, to know the miracle -of the world. Everywhere two miracles confront each other, the visible -world and the soul of man beholding it, but custom and usage are -blinding; that is to say, the more you get used to a thing, the more you -don't see it.” - -Mrs. Mink nodded. - -“The soul of the heathen,” continued Dr. Ulswater, musing, “and that of -the missionary are both remarkable.” Mrs. Mink looked suspicious; but he -continued, musing: “There is, at this moment, an insurrection in Haiti, -a bad-tempered mountain blowing up in Peru, and ten thousand miles from -there a large brown idol, that I know well, sitting in the woods in -Ceylon, with green jade eyes and silver finger-nails. And they're all -turned over once a day.” - -Something about Mrs. Mink, self-contained, quiet, and decisive, -looking at him with shrewd, unbewildered eyes, seemed to rouse him to -conversation; or else he had an object in being entertaining. Captain -Jansen and two or three blue-capped sailors were near, and stood at the -corner of the cabin listening, while he talked on, talked immensely, -talked gloriously, talked like the power of Niagara, until the tide ran -out and the sun set, and Mrs. Mink said, “Now you'll stay to tea,” so -decisively that we stayed to tea. - -In the cabin were green curtains and pink lamp-shade, wall paper and -framed prints, a radiator, biscuits, cake, preserves, a red-haired Irish -servant-girl named Norah, and Mrs. Mink at home. She was thoughtful. - -“Do you _have_ to collect cuttlefish?” she asked at last. - -“I? No. I do what I like. Why?” Dr. Ulswater's innocence of manner was -perhaps too elaborate. “My curly-haired young friend must not go back -to his job for some weeks in South America, for he is not yet a -grizzly-bear. He is languid, like a jelly-fish.” - -“Well, I shouldn't dare ask any one away from business. But I have some -spare rooms, and I would be pleased if you and Mr. Kirby would visit me. -It would be a great help, if you aren't too busy.” - -“We are your grateful guests,” said Dr. Ulswater, elaborately. - -When we came to go, the sulky negro and his boat had disappeared. -Captain Jansen offered to take us ashore. Dr. Ulswater bundled up his -cuttlefish. Mrs. Mink said, “He's dreadfully untidy.” - -“Admirable!” cried Dr. Ulswater again. “It's a select word, a creative -description! He's a regular litter. His very vital point is loose.” - -We slid away in the starlight. - -“What personality!” muttered Dr. Ulswater. “What point of view! Untidy! -The very word! She buys a steam yacht, furnishes it in the style of -Potterville, Ohio, and starts off to examine Foreign Missions. Why, -sure! That's easy!” - -Captain Jansen chuckled: “I see men try sheet her more'n once, but they -don't. She have a head.” - -“Untidy!” muttered Dr. Ulswater. “Untidy!”--as if he foreboded trouble -in that word. - - - - -CHAPTER III--AND THE TWENTY PATRIOTS - - -|WE left Nassau the following morning. On the third day we passed the -Inaguas and sighted Tortuga. They were days rich with the tropical -outpourings of Dr. Ulswater, into whose warm Gulf Stream of conversation -Mrs. Mink now and then dropped cool comments and punctuations that -excited his luxuriant praise. What Mrs. Mink thought of Dr. Ulswater was -not so clear. - -The green cliffs of Haiti overhung a white surf, and the lapping mouths -of half-submerged caves below; above was the tangle of the forest, great -pendant leaves, sweeping and coiling creepers. It was the hot morning of -the fourth day. There was a thin, shining mist about, and Dr. Ulswater -quoted: - - “... soft and purple mist - - Like a vaporous amethyst, - - ... red and golden vines - - Piercing with their trellised lines - - The rough dark-skirted wilderness. - -“Vaporous amethyst!” he murmured, sentimentally. “Gaseous spirit of -jewel! Ah, Mrs. Mink! Lyric poetry, is it not a religion?” - -Mrs. Mink shook her head. - -“You see a distinction. You are right. You would say, in the worship of -beauty the ethical element is too subsidiary. You would point out the -lack of rigidity and purpose.” - -Mrs. Mink did not commit herself. We watched the smoke of a steamer -coming toward us from the east. - -“I see the deep's untrampled floor!” murmured Dr. Ulswater. - -The steamer, a dilapidated side-wheeler, drew nearer, and a small cannon -was plainly to be seen in the prow, but the only men in sight were a -negro at the wheel and another walking the bridge. As they came within -hailing, the cannon went off suddenly, the ball boomed overhead, and -struck, spat! against the cliff, and on the deck a crowd of negroes -sprang up and fell to dancing, howling, waving their guns. Mrs. Mink -said, “For goodness' sake!” while Dr. Ulswater and I went to join -Captain Jansen. - -“Yas,” he said, “I didn't know. If I know, I got avay.” - -Three boat-loads of negroes were coming to board us. In the prow of -the first was one tall and thin, with a gold-laced regimental coat, -a tasselled sword, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and the dignity of a -commodore. They drew under the side, and Dr. Ulswater and this Commodore -talked Haitian French. - -Then they scrambled aboard, marched aft in an orderly manner, squatted -on the deck against the rail at the edge of the flowered carpet. Most -of them grinned sociably and chattered to each other. The crew of -the _Violetta_ remained forward discussing them. Dr. Ulswater, the -Commodore, Captain Jansen, and I sat down under the awning in the -upholstered chairs, together with Mrs. Mink. Dr. Ulswater explained, -cheerfully: - -“He says he's an insurrection. He admits that we're not the enemy, but -says he's got to have the _Violetta_ in order to triumph over the tyrant -of Haiti. When he has triumphed we will be rewarded,--meaning he'll be -in a position to pay damages. He thinks our consciences will reward us, -too. He thinks that's a strong point,--maybe stronger than the other. He -has only that one war-ship, and he needs another in order to attack the -navies of the tyrant. If you ask whether he's innocent or clever, why, I -give it up, but I guess he's superlatively one of them. He appears to be -calm.” - -“Do you mean he wants me to give him the _Violetta?_” asked Mrs. Mink, -sharply. - -“Something resembling that, and it's not so unnatural,”--Dr. Ulswater -waved his hand balmily,--“you know, from his point of view----” - -“Nonsense! I sha'n't do anything of the kind!” - -“But--well--I gather his innocence is such that he might get up and take -it.” - -“I'd like to see him! Who is he?” - -She was sharp-voiced, alert, and keen. Dr. Ulswater seemed bewildered. - -“Yes, but I gather he's a sort of patriotic pirate,--piratical so far -that it might not do to irritate him.” - -Mrs. Mink softened a degree: “Is he patriotic?” - -“My experience in this neighbourhood,” said the doctor, “has been that -patriotic leaders, who are down on the tyrant, are generally looking for -his job. But now, as they appear to be some two or three to one of us, -and armed, and, technically speaking, to have the drop on us,--why, -there's a West-Indian proverb to the effect that 'A spider and a fly -don't bargain,' but I would suggest something diplomatic, something -perhaps a little yielding. Something of that kind.” - -The Commodore all this while sat stiffly upright, with one hand on the -hilt of his tasselled sword and no expression on his face, glaring away -from us across the sea. It seemed to me that his bearing couldn't be -natural to a being with human weaknesses, and that it went beyond the -real requirements of his uniform. I judged he had gotten it off an -equestrian statue. - -Dr. Ulswater began to talk with him again. Of the military, on the edge -of the flowered carpet, some looked genial, some murderous--most of them -genially murderous. Captain Jansen pulled his beard and looked meekly at -Mrs. Mink, and Mrs. Mink examined the Commodore critically. - -“He says,” resumed Dr. Ulswater, “that it's a military crisis, and he -must have another war-ship or go under. When he has conquered the ships -of the tyrant, he will reward us. His remarks, like his manner, are a -bit monotonous, but I gather he's nearly, what you might call, on his -last legs. He rather intends to put us all ashore.” - -“Fiddlesticks!” - -“A--certainly! You think------” - -“Fiddlesticks!” - -Dr. Ulswater subsided. - -“Ask them if they don't want some coffee. Ask how many are left in the -other ship. They can have some too.” - -Dr. Ulswater reported that they did; that there were five on the -war-ship; that the Commodore was gratified to find madam accepted the -necessity amiably. - -The crew and all of us hurried under Mrs. Mink's orders. She collected -cups and glasses. She called for three kettles of boiling water to the -cabin, and closed the door. There were six of us, including Captain -Jansen and the Irish girl, Norah. - -“Now, Dr. Ulswater, you must help. Listen! You must put them to sleep.” - -“A---- - -“_Listen!_ These two kettles will hold about thirty cups. Don't give -them too much. See that they all drink it at the same time. Send a pot -to the other ship. When they're all asleep, put them ashore. Now don't -tell me you can't, or you haven't anything to do it with, because you -_must!_ I won't stand it! The idea of giving up the _Violetta_ to be -shot at! How do I know what would happen to it? This pot we'll keep for -ourselves, and pour into the blue cups. _Hush!_ Don't talk to me! Ask -them to drink a health or something to something or other, so they'll go -to sleep together. Give up the _Violetta!_ That silly, conceited thing -sitting up there like a barber's pole and asking me that!” - -“You want some knock-out drops!” gasped Dr. Ulswater. - -“_Hush!_ Laudanum, laughing-gas! You know. Hurry!” - -Dr. Ulswater gazed at her with speechless admiration, took the two -kettles, and disappeared in the passageway toward his cabin. - -“Captain Jansen, you'll take this gray pot to the other ship, and only -one man with you, so they won't suspect; as soon as they're asleep you -better tie them up and come back. Put the trays on the table, Mr. Kirby, -and the cups and things on the trays. Keep the blue cups together. Do -you know if they like sugar?” - -Dr. Ulswater returned. - -“Now take the gray pot, Captain Jansen. We won't serve here till you -get there. Norah, pour them fuller. Dr. Ulswater, you must go out and -explain. Tell them it will be ready in a few moments.” - -Dr. Ulswater opened the door and went out, muttering, “Wonderful!” - -The Commodore sat as before, holding his sword-hilt. The military sat -between the rail and the edge of the carpet. Dr. Ulswater made a speech, -which appeared to please them. Captain Jansen and one of the crew rowed -away in the boat, the captain nursing the gray pot and the tea tray on -his knee. - -Mrs. Mink filled cups, glasses, and tins. - -“I hope it will make that barber's pole sick. There! Captain Jansen has -gone up, Dr. Ulswater! Tell them about taking it all together. Tell them -to wait till we're ready. Mr. Kirby, you're spilling. Take care of -the blue cups, and let the men pass the other trays. You two go to the -right, you two to the left, you to the other end. Now we're ready.” - -Norah was pallid. The twenty patriots took their cups in hand and waited -with wide, grinning mouths. Dr. Ulswater lifted his coffee-cup. - -“À la Patrie!” he cried. “La Révolution! Ça ira! Let her go!” - -“They haven't all emptied their cups, Dr. Ulswater!” - -“Encore!” thundered the doctor. “La Révolution! Videz toutes! Bottoms -up.” - -“Goodness!” cried Mrs. Mink. “How they look!” and ran into the cabin, -followed by Norah, shrieking. - -Under the spell of Dr. Ulswater's powerful drops the twenty negroes -stared, grunted, fell back, twitching, kicking, astonished, breathing -in snorts. Glass and china crashed on the deck. One of them staggered -up with a yell and dropped again. One rolled half across the flowered -carpet. The Commodore struggled for an instant with his tasselled sword, -and subsided, muttering. The long rows of limp and ragged men, of black -faces and open mouths, were ghastly and still. A gun was discharged on -the war-ship. - -“Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink from the cabin. - -Dr. Ulswater turned about, beaming at me. “A remarkable opiate, that, -Kit! I always said so,” and pulled out his notebook, and made notes, -aloud: “On two of the subjects evidently painful in action--ten to -twenty seconds--per man three grains--muscular contractions, followed -by total relaxation and coma--in case observed dissolved in solution of -coffee--Remarkable!” - -“Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink again. - -Captain Jansen, with his man, came back and reported that his cases had -been disorderly. One of them had discharged his gun and fallen down the -gangway. - -We carried them, one by one, to the boats and tugged back and forth -across a hot and heaving stretch of water, till they were all landed. -Some of them were stirring and made a noise. - -When the last boat-load was gone, Dr. Ulswater and I came back under the -awning. Norah was washing dishes in the cabin, Mrs. Mink sweeping the -deck with a broom. The guns lay along the scuppers. She stopped, and -lifted a troubled face to Dr. Ulswater. - -“Will it do them any harm?” - -Dr. Ulswater seemed subdued: “It will make them sick at the stomach. -A--a moral lesson.” - -“I should think as much!” she said, sweeping vigorously. “That impudent -barber! Did he want to be President?” - -“I understood he had ambitions.” - -She hesitated again: “Do you think the revolution ought to succeed, if -their government is very bad? Or would it be better to stop it?” - -Dr. Ulswater gasped again, but recovered himself, and brought his mind -back to gravity and consideration: “My observation has been that, -though tropical governments are sometimes objectionable, these frequent -violences seldom improve them, and create distress. I think it is -generally more benevolent to back the existing state of things.” - -“Oh! Then I think Captain Jansen had better tie something to the other -ship, so that we can pull it after us and give it to the other people. -Anyway,” she ended, sharply, “I'm sure that conceited thing would make a -bad President.” - -It was high noon when we steered away for Cape Haitien, towing the -war-ship. On shore two or three revolutionists were climbing a gully in -the cliffs. Others were sousing their heads in the surf. More of them -seemed to be still sick or drowsy. Mrs. Mink went to take a nap. Dr. -Ulswater and I leaned against the rail. Captain Jansen edged toward us. - -“My, my!” he said. He rubbed his beard a moment, shook his head -thoughtfully, and went forward. - -Dr. Ulswater pressed his handkerchief to his wet forehead. The heat was -great. - -“Kit,” he said, solemnly, “this is a discovery. Personality to burn. -Captured by desperate insurrectionists, she demands knock-out drops. She -puts them to sleep with a coffee-pot, and bundles them ashore. -And why not? She balances the issue of a people, tows off a war-ship, -and squelches revolution. Why not? And yet, what a phenomenon of -intrepid reason! What a woman!” - - - - -CHAPTER IV--THE TROPIC AND THE TEMPERATE - - -|WHEN a chicken drinks,” said Dr. Ulswater, “he lifts his head and -thanks God, but when a man drinks he doesn't say anything. That is a -West-Indian proverb.” - -I said: “It's a good proverb.” - -“Well,” he went on, “I should say it was, with the chicken, possibly, so -to speak, a somewhat mechanical ritual.” - -We were nearing the end of our cruise. I never wanted less to go back -to Portate, but my health was too boisterously good to be denied. It was -toward the end of November. In the land of steadfast people, the frost -would be on the grass, the wind in the yellow corn-shocks, the good folk -gathering to their annual feast of gratitude, far from these lazy seas. -Old women with white hair and knitting, old men walking with -canes, pink-cheeked girls and big-handed men, children storming the -banisters--they would all be there. - -“What will you do on Thanksgiving day?” I asked, thinking of the cool -cornfields and familiar faces, of farm-yards and houses where chickens -used to drink in prayerful attitudes, where men also thanked God when -they drank, or ate. - -“I have left it to Mrs. Mink. She is considering it.” - -“How?” - -“She is considering me. It amounts to the same thing. Her decision, I -should say, would determine my attitude on the question of gratitude.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“I have requested her to consider me matrimonially,” he said. “I fear -she is considering me in the light of Foreign Missions. - -“I have presented to Mrs. Mink,” he continued, “as bearing on the point, -one of the clearest analogical arguments you ever saw. It is as follows: -The business of the tropic and temperate zones is to entertain and -supplement each other. They trade experiences--as they trade crude -rubber for sewing machines--to the profit of both parties. Put them -together and there arises in the mind of each a sense of romantic -surprise. Providence has supplied the need of man for permanent -astonishment by a trifling gradation of heat, so that when either shall -feel the need for something miraculous and incongruous, it has only to -find the other. I have pointed out to Mrs. Mink that her sailing in the -tropics was only falling in with this arrangement of Providence, and -she was pleased to hear it. Going about on loose seas in lazy climates -sometimes had seemed to her a lax and disorderly kind of conduct, and -having it attached that way to Providence made her feel better. I said -to Mrs. Mink: 'It's a doctrine of the present age that the tropics are -best administered and managed, for the good of all, by the temperate -zone. Civilisation is now tending to that end. Now, you, Mrs. Mink, are -a temperate zone. I am a tropical one. You have administrative ability. -I am a heterogeneous person, untidy, overflowing, and hankering to -be administered. You are the one, I am the other. Hence our mutual -functions, destinies, relations to each other, have been arranged and -foreordained by Providence. _Quod erat demonstrandum_.' That was my -argument to Mrs. Mink.” - -I said: “It's a good argument. How does she like it?” - -“Mrs. Mink,” he said, “is reflective but unconvinced. The extent to -which she is unconvinced is alarming. I can't deny it.” - -I left them the day after Thanksgiving, at San Juan in Porto Rico, -and went back to Portate. Singular town, Portate. Singular man, Dr. -Ulswater. Singular planet around which the _Violetta_ was setting out -with its critical, exploring prow. - -It was some two months after, when I received Dr. Ulswater's first -letter. Altogether he sent me four letters. Letters! rather manuscripts, -documents, written in his own mellow and tumultuous style. They made -that wandering hearth and home of the _Violetta_ a vivid enough picture -to my mind. I followed its course from sea to sea, from island to -island, wishing myself aboard her. Here follow the documents. - - - - -CHAPTER V--FIRST DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE: FIRST ADVENTURE - - -Trinidad--_January._ - -|WHAT a world! What a woman! - -From the way in which Mrs. Mink collected you and me, it was clear -that she had a knack, a genius, nay, even let us say, a tendency toward -collecting people. In point of fact, no sooner were you gone than she -collected a Professor of Logic. - -His name was Simpson, Professor Simpson. It was at San Juan. Why did -she collect him? Now you speak of it, I reckon it was for a sort of a -breakwater to me. Gracious heavens! It wasn't for want of logic. Never! -But it is just possible that she found me, at the time,--I suspected -it--that she found me rather--shall I say?--overflowing, rather a -deluge. - -Professor Simpson was a man whose presence I should ordinarily have -welcomed for the educational value of his company, but I didn't welcome -him. He was small in person, dry of face, categorical in manner, testy -in temper, Presbyterian in religion, pedantic in language, undoubtedly -learned. But did he understand his function to be merely a breakwater to -me? He did not. Let that pass for the present. Mrs. Mink collected him -at San Juan, and we steamed away to Martinique. Here, one day, on or -about the tenth of December, we lay in the roadstead of St. Pierre. - -We were intending to go on that day, but about two-thirds of the -_Violetta's_ crew were in St. Pierre on shore leave. Captain Jansen -came aboard some time after noon, and finding the men had not returned, -became excited, took all the boats, and the remainder of the crew, even -down to the cook, to help him collect delinquent mariners the faster, -and went ashore again. We four were left on the _Violetta_: Mrs. Mink, -Norah, Professor Simpson, and I. - -The weather was calm to the point of deadness. Mont Pelée, that -smouldering volcano, that suppressed Titan, was asleep. Not a cloud in -the sky, not a ripple in the bay. Jansen appeared to be having trouble, -for an hour passed, and the missing crew had not returned. - -Between you and me, as man and man, the delinquent mariners were in the -lockup, but Mrs. Mink does not know that, as yet. You can't rivet a nail -in a boiled potato, nor temperance in the tempestuous seaman, but Mrs. -Mink doesn't know that, as yet. - -We were just commenting upon a dark, small, condensed looking cloud -which had appeared above the shoulder of Mont Pelée, questioning whether -it was an exhalation of the volcano, Pelée in eruption. Was Mont Pelée -about to overwhelm St. Pierre, a Vesuvius to Pompeii? Was I, like -the elder Pliny, to perish, a suffocated naturalist, a philosopher in -cinder? - -But it grew with enormous rapidity. It seemed to have an uncommon knack -of taking in nourishment, a terrifying appetite. I saw a house on the -mountain side rise up and vanish, swallowed at a gulp. Professor Simpson -got out his note-book and took notes. He described the cloud in his -notebook as “bulbous, or bulging in form, in colour a bluish black, and -unfolding centrifugally toward the edges.” - -“In my opinion,” he said, “we are ourselves in some personal danger. I -believe this is what is commonly called a tornado. Do you differ from -me, Dr. Uls-water?” - -I said: “Not there, professor, though it's late in the year for -West-Indian hurricanes. The most pointed opinion I've got is that this -deck is going to be a wet place in a minute.” - -We'd hardly got to the cabin before the roar was audible, and grew till -we could not hear ourselves. One minute more and the _Violetta_ gave -a jerk that threw us on the floor, Norah on Professor Simpson and Mrs. -Mink on Norah. Between them they obscured him, on the whole, very -well. I got up and looked through the port-hole, and saw only spray and -splashing water. The ship was engaged in a sort of circular high-kicking -dance, something between a waltz and a cancan. The professor remained -obscure. Neither Mrs. Mink nor Norah saw their way clearly to -getting off him, and for myself,--seeing that he kicked but vaguely, -harmlessly,--I thought Mrs. Mink and Norah might as well suit themselves -about it. - -At the end of four minutes, perhaps five or ten, the tumult had subsided -to a strong wind and heavy sea. I went on deck, and discovered that -the _Violetta_ had been torn loose from her anchor, and was drifting -rapidly. The mist, however, was too thick to see far in any direction. -By the point from which the tornado had come, I judged that we had been -driven out of the roadstead and were moving perhaps west, or northwest, -on the open sea. A broken spar hung from the short rigging and beat -against the mast, and the deck was awash with water. I went back to the -cabin, and mentioned my inferences. Mrs. Mink jumped up and said: - -“Nonsense! It's impossible.” - -“But, my dear Mrs. Mink,” said the professor, rising, “surely a -situation that is _in esse_, in actual existence, cannot be described as -'impossible.' It is, as you mean to imply, however, most distressing.” - -“Fiddlesticks! What shall we do?” - -The professor reflected. On reflection, he said he thought it needed -reflection. I thought we might as well remain where we were. He objected -that, being in motion with the ship, it was not in our power to remain -where we were, but, as regards our relations to the ship, I was perhaps -right. - -What a man! - -Mrs. Mink said we'd better have supper. - -The mist was turning to rain, the violence of the waves gradually -subsiding, and the wind growing more moderate. Norah and I went to -the galley. She cooked and I carried. After supper it was dark. A -pitch-black and rainy night came down on the troubled sea. The professor -and I agreed to watch alternately. He went to bed and I lay down on the -cabin sofa. I listened to the creak and thump of the loose spar, the -murmur of the rain, the splash of waves against the _Violetta_'s sides. -I reflected that our situation was perhaps more unusual than perilous; -that we were likely to be seen by somebody if the weather cleared; that -after all the sea is in reality a less eventful element than the -land; that a philosophic mind is better than a feather bed; that with -reasonable good luck and a philosophic mind I might have the credit of -a nightlong watch over Mrs. Mink's slumbers, along with the benefit of a -night's rest. So reflecting, I went to sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER VI--SECOND ADVENTURE - - -|WHEN I awoke the sun was shining in at the port-holes, and the ship -appeared to be quiet, but slanting. It was the slant that had rolled me -off the sofa and awakened me. Hence it must have just happened. I went -up the companionway, and saw--the boundless blue expanse of dimpled sea? -Not at all! Nothing of the kind! On the contrary, a towering green wall -of forest trees almost overhung the ship. - -Talk not to me of the ruthless chain of causes whereby all things are -bound, of nature's dismal obedience to law! As a scientist, I admit it -with reservation--as a man, with tears. But what I really like about -things is their fresh and genial inconsequence. Among all worlds, -give me one compact of improbability. Among all women, give me one of -invincible good sense. - -The _Violetta_ lay something over fifty feet from a high wooded bank. -The tide was out, but the shelve of the bottom must be steep, for her -list to landward was not very great. We were on the eastern side of -a semicircular bay, which opened toward the south. It was still early -morning. No wind stirred, and the ripples flowed gently among the stones -beneath the high banks. Bright-coloured birds flitted between the tall -stems of the palm trees. A place so calm, so halcyon, so appropriate -to the purposes of my suit! In fact,--Bless my soul!--nothing could be -better. - -Professor Simpson and Mrs. Mink appeared on deck. - -“Oh!” she said; “Where's this, doctor?” - -She looked as if she thought I had omnipotently arranged the climax. I -passed the question on to the professor. - -“Tentatively,” he said, “I should conjecture it was an outlying island -somewhat to the north or east of Martinique.” - -“But does any one live on it?” - -“That Dr. Ulswater and myself will take upon us to discover.” - -“Well, I think it's a nice island, anyway. But there aren't any boats. -How are we going to get on it?” - -“Precisely!” said the professor. “A problem! I would suggest, perhaps, -a bridge of--of palm trees, felled--” he kindled with light inflammable -ideas--“felled in such a manner as to fall forward upon the ship, thus, -being fastened, to form a secure connection with the shore.” - -“I don't see how you can chop them from here,” said Mrs. Mink. - -“True. That is a difficulty.” - -There was a pause. A green and scarlet parrot was swearing at us from -where he swung on a vine above the bank. I leaned on the rail and -listened to the parrot and considered his point of view. - -“Professor,” I said at last; “this is a world of compensations. There's -compensation in your not understanding the dialect of that parrot. His -clothes are handsome, but his language is bad. You are religious and -ascetic, and he's a worldling. I'm a worldling, too, but I can swim, and -I see compensations.” - -“Let's have breakfast,” said Mrs. Mink. - -After breakfast I swam ashore with an axe, climbed the bank, selected -four tall slender palms that leaned in the direction of the _Violetta_'s -after-deck, and hacked them down. Two of them fell on the _Violetta_ -and damaged her rail, but stuck where they fell. The professor roped the -ends to a capstan, and crossed that sagging bridge, respectably calm, -dragging after him the long end of the rope, which we fastened to a -tree. The _Violetta_ was moored. - -Mrs. Mink came, too, nervous but firm. - -What a woman! Practical, foreseeing, sagacious, she will walk the -tight-rope of any catastrophe. In fact, she brought a hammock and a -cushion with her. Norah's method of crossing somewhat resembled shinning -a pole. ON recollection, I should say that she yelled. - -When Professor Simpson and I set out to explore the island, Norah was -throwing stones at the green and red parrot, and Mrs. Mink lay in -the hammock, not understanding that parrot's dialect, which I didn't -understand altogether myself, but it appeared to me he was blistering -the foliage with it. - -The island was some three to five miles around by the coast, and -no other land was in sight from it, barring a slight bump on the -southeastern horizon which might be another small island, or might -be Mont Pelée. It appeared we had been blown some distance during the -night. There were no inhabitants at the time, or we found none, though -there were two groups of sorry huts not far from the beach, and frequent -paths through the woods, showing occasional occupancy. - -We came back by the northern shore of the bay, and saw that the -_Violetta_ was safe. We stood some moments in silence. The wind had -risen again and now blew hard from the west, so that the _Violetta_ -was protected on a lee shore, though where we stood the waves rolled in -tumultuously. Professor Simpson broke the silence. He suddenly planted -himself before me, his hands on his hips, and frowned. - -Now, a frown that is directed upward has the law of gravitation against -it. Professor Simpson's shortness incommoded him in that respect. - -“It is not my habit, Dr. Ulswater,” he began, “to brook impertinent -opposition or light-minded interference. In, therefore, announcing my -intention to invite Mrs. Mink to the alliance of marriage, I consider -that no more need be said. I wish to be relieved of this undignified -rivalry, and to avail myself of this situation to fulfil my purpose in -peace. I demand that your too noticeable attentions shall cease. Your -attitude toward Mrs. Mink is offensive to me. I repeat, sir, they must -cease.” - -Extraordinary professor! Never was another like him. He was a species. - -“But,” I said, feebly; “look here. I've already been at Mrs. Mink on -that subject myself. I was thinking it was a good time to work up to it -again.” - -“I object to your giving Mrs. Mink that annoyance. Her preference for me -is perfectly plain. You are without personal attractions.” - -“What!” - -“You are too fat.” - -“But, professor! On the other hand, ought not the fact of your being a -contemptible little dried-up molecule, with the temper of a mosquito and -the humour of a codfish ball, oughtn't that--now really, oughtn't -that fact to be given some weight in the discussion? I appeal to you, -professor?” - -“Sir!” - -He clenched his fists. It was a critical and perilous moment. Did he or -did he not intend an attack on my diaphragm? Should I or should I not be -presently seated on top of him like a bolster on a crab? - -There is a Haitian proverb which says, “It's when the wind blows that -you see the skin of a hen.” - -Professor Simpson drew a long breath, and suddenly laid himself flat on -the ground, extended his arms and legs and closed his eyes. - -“I was somewhat heated,” he murmured. “To allay any mental strain, such -as vexation or anger, extend the body, relax the muscles, and endeavour -to abstract the mind from surroundings. The effect is invariable. Let -me recommend it to you. There!” he said, after a moment, getting to his -feet. “I am quite calm. And now, clearly, Dr. Ulswater, clearly, we -must submit it to Mrs. Mink. I suggest, then, that we ask her for -a half-hour's interview each. Subsequently, she will announce her -decision, and thus we will conclude our dispute.” - -I agreed. We went amicably along the shore of the bay toward the -_Violetta_. - -Norah was in the hammock, but Mrs. Mink had gone aboard again, and stood -by the rail looking toward us. The yacht lay on a lee shore, and there -the water was fairly calm; but the force of the wind, in spite of the -protection of the trees, was such now as to put some strain on the rope -which stretched taut to the bank. - -“In half an hour, then,” said Professor Simpson, “you will be at liberty -to interrupt me.” - -He was over the bridge while I was figuring on the discrepancy,--the -something not quite predestined,--in his having the first shot,--that is -to say, the first opportunity,--of presenting his case to Mrs. Mink. I -was going to propose we should flip a coin for it. He was a wonder, a -wonder! I called out to Mrs. Mink, asking for an interview in half an -hour. She looked surprised. I went back among the trees, and wished -I were a Presbyterian, and watched, during that long half-hour, the -minutes slowly passing on the cold unfeeling face of my watch. I allowed -the full time and went back. - -Professor Simpson was still arguing. I concluded, comfortably, that his -argument had not, as yet, convinced Mrs. Mink. They stood by the rail, -near the straining rope that fastened the yacht to the bank. - -“Professor,” I called, “your time's up. I'm coming aboard.” - -He raised his hands. He was excited. He cried: - -“I have not concluded! Mrs. Mink! A few moments more! No, no! I refuse -to be interrupted.” - -Mrs. Mink said nothing. Her expression of face was the expression of -an interested spectator. It seemed to say: “Which of you is going to do -something?” I went toward the bridge. He wrung his hands. His excitement -became intense. - -“It is critical, sir, critical! Your conduct is inconsiderate, -offensive! I insist!” - -Suddenly he disappeared below the rail. - -He rose again. An axe was aloft in both his hands. He rushed at the -rope. He struck! The miserable little pirate! He chopped the rope, the -infinitesimal assassin! - -The yacht keeled over, under pressure of the gale, and Mrs. Mink and -Professor Simpson disappeared. Probably they slid to the other side. -The bridge was dragged after the yacht. I was nearly on it, and all but -pitched from the bank into the water. Norah sat up and yelled. The green -parrot climbed down and swore. The _Violetta_ regained her level and -drifted rapidly away. - -I picked up the axe that had been used to fell the palm trees, and ran -along the shore. It was an action not suited to my physique. I had to -stop and take breath. - -“However,” I reflected, “he's done for himself. Mrs. Mink won't stand -for it. Or--or, will she?” - -At the same time I did not like a rival so fertile in expedients, nor -the fact that he and Mrs. Mink were both Presbyterians. - -The yacht was not driving in the direction of the open sea, but across -the bay, nearly toward the spot where Professor Simpson and I had had -our first altercation. - - - - -CHAPTER VII--THIRD ADVENTURE - - -|WHEN I reached the place, the prow of the _Violetta_ had already run -aground, and the stern had swung about, dragging the attached tree -trunks after it, so that the yacht lay in something like its former -position, parallel to the shore, but further off, the shelve being here -more gradual. Moreover, she was now on a windward shore, the waves of -considerable height and force, and, being balanced, so to speak, on her -keel, she oscillated, descending now on this side toward the shore, now -on that side away from me, through an arc of some forty degrees. The -situation I beheld with mingled emotions, both soothed and lacerated, -soothed on account of Professor Simpson's condign punishment, lacerated -on account of Mrs. Mink. Their cries were heard above the tumult. They -clung to the landward rail, which went up and down like a teeter, or a -ducking stool, regular as a pendulum, terrific, but distressing. - -“For goodness' sake, doctor, do something!” cried Mrs. Mink; and -Professor Simpson shrieked: “Can you not assist? I entreat! I adjure! Do -not----” - -He was interrupted. - -Something had to be done. - -The two tree trunks attached to the stern had been driven about, so that -the butts rested on the bottom, in the midst of the surf. Being dragged -back and forth by the motion of the yacht, and at the same time tossed -by the surf, the result was a somewhat complicated motion. To get -through the surf was no great difficulty, for two hundred and odd pounds -of determination. But to draw the butts together, to climb them beyond -reach of the surf, to maintain the uneasy position so gained, astride -those two insane, rotatory, and indecorous poles,--wabbled, danced, -dandled, jerked about in the air by that eccentric and -careening-viaduct, whose leaps, halts, and rebounds resembled the -kicking of a restive mule or a series of railroad collisions--this was -achievement, this was a goal and effort worthy of a man! - -I succeeded. Clinging to the logs with hands and knees, I looked up. -Mrs. Mink and the professor hung over the shattered rail above me. I -shouted: - -“Come on! I'll meet you.” - -“But I can't walk _that!_” she called back. “It doesn't keep still.” - -“Walk it! No!” I roared. “Creep it, madam! Shin it! Roll it! Come -anyway, and don't fall off.” - -She laughed. - -Admirable woman! For self-possession, spirit, and sense, where is her -equal? She mounted, clung, approached. I clasped her, slid back to the -edge of the surf, lifted her, rushed, waded, forced my way to land. -She was wet. I was winded. I admit both. Stretched on the ground I felt -particularly indifferent to any accident, to anything whatever, that -might happen to Professor Simpson. Suddenly I was aware of him. Cast up -by an ebullient wave, he sprawled on the shore and sprang to his feet, -crying, - -“A miraculous escape! I would not have believed myself so agile.” - -Mrs. Mink looked from one to the other of us, and began to laugh. - -“I am delighted,” he said, shaking himself, “my dear Rebecca, to see you -in such composure.” - -I got up. I spoke with dignity. - -“Do I understand, sir, that you've profited by your treachery?” - -He looked disturbed. - -“Mrs. Mink has--nevertheless I am not without----” - -I interrupted and turned to Mrs. Mink. - -“You approved of this gentleman's behaviour?” - -“What behaviour? Well! It was bright of him, anyway.” - -“You knew of the agreement between us?” - -“Of course, you were going to propose to me next. Fiddlesticks! You've -done that before? What made you let him come first? You shouldn't let -people run over you.” - -“You were to reserve your decision, madam.” - -“Humph! I didn't agree to that. Perhaps he's willing to begin over -again.” - -Professor Simpson started. - -“Mrs. Mink speaks in jest. It would be unprecedented, impossible.” We -paused. - -“Well?” said Mrs. Mink. - -“Well, madam?” - -“What are you going to do?” - -“I see you like men of strenuous action, Mrs. Mink,” I said. “Would it, -do you think? would it insinuate me somewhat into your favour if I were -to take this axe and strenuously chop Professor Simpson's head in two -symmetrical but characteristic parts?” - -Professor Simpson looked aghast. - -“Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Mink. - -“Not feasible, you think? Perhaps not. Suppose, then, I were to cut a -switch and apply it to Professor Simpson's attenuated legs. Could you -candidily recommend that, Mrs. Mink?” - -“I will not submit, sir!” he cried. “I will not submit!” - -Mrs. Mink turned and walked rapidly away. - -“Professor,” I said, taking out my waterproof match-safe and extracting -several matches, “you will take these matches and see that Mrs. Mink is -comfortable. Our rescuers will find us in time, no doubt. Until then you -will respect my privacy. I seek no revenge and offer no congratulations. -I don't inquire into your standards of integrity. I don't see, unless -your system of ethics is fundamentally unsound, how you can reconcile -to morality this reward of victorious evil. But I leave it to your -casuistry.” - -It seemed to me this was a poisoned arrow well planted. I had set him -a problem likely to irritate his exact mind. I picked up the axe and -walked up the shore in the opposite direction. - -The afternoon was growing late. I kindled a fire to dry my clothes, -felled a banana tree, and ate bananas. Across the bay I could make out -the smoke of the other camp fire. The _Violetta_ still swayed back and -forth, but not so violently, on her keel. The wind still blew, but the -air was warm. I sat by the fire and took inventory of things in general. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII--PROFESSOR SIMPSON AGAIN - - -|AEQUAM memento,” I reflected, “rebus in arduis.” - -After all, marriage would disturb my pursuits. A man with a liquid and -non-resistant name like “Ulswater,” with a fleshy and floating physique, -with a mind as full of refuse as a sargasso sea, and whiskers resembling -sargasso,--when he proposes to ally himself in marriage to a woman -like Mrs. Mink, whose rational instincts--as a capable and neat -housekeeper--would be to trim his whiskers and rearrange his nature, -to tidy up his mind and sweep it, hang antimacassars over its chairs, -polish its andirons, fling the cuspidor out of the window, and can the -tropical fruitage of his character into jellies and jams in glass jars -with screw tops and rubber bands,--when such a man has in mind such an -alliance, if fate prevents, if an agile Presbyterian professor is one -too many for him, what should he do but remark, “_Aequam memento rebus -in arduis servare mentem_,” that is, “In trouble take it easy,” and then -immediately proceed to swear himself black in the face, and wish for a -green and red parrot to take up the job after him? - -Precisely. Also I dried my clothes and whistled. Time passed on, and -it was perhaps six o'clock. Suddenly, as I looked up, Professor Simpson -stood before me, alone. - -“Professor,” I said, “you intrude.” - -He seated himself on the fallen trunk of the banana tree. - -“I am compelled to do so,” he said. “Mrs. Mink objects to the present -arrangement; whether on the score of propriety, or because she regards -my protection as inadequate, I cannot say, I refuse to discuss. It is a -matter, in either case, humiliating to myself. She demands the return of -Dr. Uls-water.” - -“I am sorry for Mrs. Mink's feelings,” I said, “but I seem to see a lack -of consideration for mine.” - -“I have stated Mrs. Mink's attitude without commenting upon it,” he went -on. “As regards my own, there is much more to be said. I cannot conceal -from myself that the terms you have applied to my late ill-regulated -conduct would, if properly qualified and defined, in the main be just. -I am, further, upon Mrs. Mink's own declaration, forced to believe that -her consent not for the present to decline my suit, but to consider -it, perhaps favourably, was entirely due to that very action which -my conscience compels me to deplore. She was attracted by that very -deviation from rectitude into which I was tempted and fell. She states -that she was about to decline my proposal absolutely, finally, when my -action revealed to her my character, as she says, in a new light. Not -to my position in the scientific world, my well-earned repute, not to -my worthier qualities of mind and heart, not to her conviction of these -claims, can her capitulation--if such it was--be attributed. You will -understand my distress at this admission made by Mrs. Mink. I fear -to infer, and yet I must infer, a want of seriousness, of strict -conscience, on the part of Mrs. Mink. I showed her my distress, I -intimated my fear, I begged her to allay it, to consider, to recollect -the facts more carefully. She became angry and asked if I repented -cutting the rope. I defined my position. She interrupted, refused to -listen, and said that my proposal was now declined. I endeavoured -to reason, to supplement argument by argument. She prevented me; she -commanded me to go and insist on Dr. Ulswater's return. Such has been my -recent painful conversation with Mrs. Mink, concluding with the command -which has caused this intrusion upon you.” - -“Don't apologise,” I said, gaily, getting up. “You repent and withdraw, -I forgive and forget.” - -“I have admitted repentance but not withdrawal,” he said, angrily, “and -I refuse your impertinent forgiveness.” - -“Come along, professor,” I said. “Refuse and admit what you like till -the crack of doom. I've got business on hand.” - -He followed after dejectedly. - -As we drew near, we saw Mrs. Mink, with Norah, standing on the high -bank and looking seaward. She saw us, cried out, pointed, and waved her -handkerchief. A small steam vessel was entering the bay. It was Captain -Jansen and the crew looking for us and for the vagrant _Violetta_. - - - - -CHAPTER IX--CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S FIRST MANUSCRIPT - - -|THE _Violetta_ was towed out into deep water. Captain Jansen used some -badly broken English on the condition of his starboard rail. Not but -that he had expected more damage than he found, but damaging a ship -by chopping a tree down upon her, hurt him in a sensitive point of -seamanship. - -There seemed to be no leakage, for all that war-dance with the elements, -and mad teetering on a windward shore. Still he preferred to pass the -night in the bay--the weather being uncertain--and tow the _Violetta_ on -the morrow to St. Pierre for repairs. - -It was evening, and I stood watching the moon rise peacefully and look -down on the gleaming but troubled waters of the little bay. Placid and -poetic she went up among her attendant stars. The wooded shore lay about -us dark and mysterious. - -“Let me,” I said to myself, “recapitulate. Presbyterianism is -insufficient. Scientific celebrity is insufficient. The precise -conscience and balance of rectitude are to the lover as a wire twitchup -to the hungry rabbit. Action, sharp decision, the habit, so to speak, of -getting there, these are what appeal to Mrs. Mink.” - -Now, along those lines Professor Simpson was no slouch of a rival. In -point of character he was hard as nails; in decision and action he was -energetic and exact. Yet he had failed. He had speared himself, as it -were, on the angle of an impractical conscience. But where did I -come in? I, who in point of character was a semiliquid jelly fish, an -invertebrate protozoan, whose nature was to float on the heaving and -uncertain sea of humour, bathed in the moonlight of poetry, devouring -the chance drift of knowledge, sucking philosophy out of rock; -whose centre of personality was loose; whose mind was as untidy as a -cuttlefish; how could I appeal to Mrs. Mink? On the evidence so far, I -had but one strong point, namely a practical conscience, a conscience -which, having always treated me with a great deal of--shall I say, with -a great deal of tact?--was a conscience that---- - -At this point in my reflection Mrs. Mink came on deck. - -When doubtful in whist, play trumps. When doubtful in any other -situation, ask Mrs. Mink. Her counsel is always trumps. - -“Mrs. Mink,” I said, as she came and stood beside me at the rail, “I am -in doubt.” - -“What about?” - -“The question is this: If a disorderly cuttlefish has proposed marriage -to one of those small neat birds who yet have the knack of making -themselves at home in a wilderness of waves, and by sailors are called -'Mother Carey's chickens'; if so far as the cuttlefish can see he has -only succeeded in producing in Mother Carey's chicken a state of -unconvinced reflection; if he knows his structure to be floppy and his -nature sloppy, what, in fact, do you think he should do?” - -“I don't think you're a cuttlefish.” - -“Ha! I don't insist on the figure.” - -“You're dreadfully untidy.” - -“I am.” - -Mrs. Mink was silent. - -“Should I imitate Professor Simpson to the summit of Presbyterianism, or -a green parrot to the bottom of reprobation? Should I----” - -“I don't like Professor Simpson, or the green parrot either.” - -“Well, then, what do you think we had better do next?” - -Mrs. Mink was long silent. At last she said, thoughtfully: - -“I think we'd better go to Trinidad.” - -“What for?” - -“Why, they're English in Trinidad, aren't they?” - -“Good God, madam! what if they are?” - -“You mustn't talk that way!” she said, sharply. “Of course Catholics may -be good men, but, still, I shouldn't like it in French.” - -“Like what?” - -“We'd better be married in Trinidad.” - -There you are, satisfactory, inclusive, concise! I ask: “How shall I -attain my soul's desire?” She answers: “Be married in Trinidad.” - -We left Professor Simpson at St. Pierre. He was intending to climb Mont -Pelée and extract knowledge from its oracular mouth. If that solemn, -grim, stony, and sometimes irascible sphinx of a volcano started in -to talk to him, it's possible that the volcano had the last of the -argument. Perhaps not. I haven't heard. He was a very persistent -logician. Maybe he meant to cast himself forlornly into the crater. -The idea is luminous, romantic. But I think, on the whole, that he did -nothing of the kind. - -Mrs. Mink says she would never have accepted him, and was merely vexed -to see him outwit me, which it must be admitted he did. But my feelings -are like those of a man who has succeeded by a narrow margin. - -We lie now in harbour at Trinidad, whose green hills rise sumptuously -out of the blue of the Caribbean. The future promises all happiness and -varied interests; among which interests, I suspect, will be the coming -Mrs. Ulswater's masterly reorganisation of me. Do I flatter myself, -or does she, as it almost seems, look forward to that task with real -enthusiasm? Wonderful woman! - -Adieu--Ulswater. - -P. S. The argument from analogy was the sound one--the tropics, the -temperate zone, and the intentions of Providence. Convince her of your -imperative need of her, and you have made the imperative appeal. So far -I see. - - - - -CHAPTER X--SECOND DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: SUSANNAH - - -Malay Peninsula, _June._ - -|FOREVER shall my voice bear testimony to Mrs. Ulswater. She has -gathered the races about her knee. The races didn't all stay there, but -it's just as well they didn't. She has faced the hoary wisdom of the -East, and subdued it. At the present writing Wisdom still acts as if he -felt subdued. - -Mrs. Ulswater was impatient to reach the far eastern mission field. She -wished to see in action the process by which people, whose souls were -naturally darkened by the opaqueness of their skins, become enlightened. -This opinion as to the origin of idolatry I drew from Mrs. Ulswater with -some difficulty. She held the theory, indeed, dimly, subconsciously. It -was new to me. It is a theory worth examining for its latent mysticism. -To what does it logically lead? If intelligence tends to increase with -the transparency of the fleshly integument, wouldn't I be cleverer -if not so fat? _C'est un grand peut-être_. But I'm getting thinner. -Bismillah! - -I have in my life pursued many ideals. I have hitched my wagon to -certain stars. Some of the blanked things were comets, and some of them -went out as unregretted as a bad cigar. Now I cling henceforward to this -domestic light and floating fireside of the _Violetta_. No man has so -entire a footing in the universe as he whose stockings are darned by a -woman with a logical mind. I am not myself a vertebrate. Mrs. Ulswater -is my complement. I am complete. I am satisfied. I am at rest. - -My family has increased. It now consists of Mrs. Ulswater, an orphan -girl, and an orphan pundit. But I go too fast. - -On the 13th of last April, we put in at the island of Clementina, which -lies to the north of Mozambique Channel. - -“Now,” said I to Mrs. Ulswater, “I am complete. I am satisfied. I am at -rest. But why Clementina?” - -I was presented with and referred to a pamphlet or periodical, in fact, -a quarterly. It appeared to be devoted to the reports of missionary -labours. It is a branch of literature never by me thoroughly -investigated. Mrs. Ulswater has a remarkable series of these pamphlets, -covering more than ten years. A veritable find! - -Now, in this number of the periodical in question, about two years old, -was an illustrated article by one Mr. Tupper, a missionary, describing -an orphan-asylum in the island of Clementina, and ah! so feelingly, with -such pleasant details of the names and prospects of individual orphans, -that I quickly shared the interest of Mrs. Ulswater. We wished to make -the acquaintance of the following orphans, to wit, the orphan named -“Susannah,” the orphan named “Thaddeus,” and the orphan named “James,” - and the orphans “Caleb,” “Zillah,” “Stephen,” and “Naomi,” these -apparently being the seven beneficiaries of the establishment. - -“Susannah,” wrote Mr. Tupper, “is characterised by great vigour of mind, -and by astuteness, if not perhaps by invariable serenity. She is -the daughter of the late Rev. Mr. Romney of Georgia, U. S. A., my -predecessor at this mission, who with his devoted wife died of an -epidemic fever some eight years ago. Upon my arrival I found the orphans -in a state most distressingly uncivilised. There are perils in this -remote corner of the world, but hunger and cold are not among them. -Little shelter is necessary, and food is to be had for the taking. -Physically, a child can grow up and thrive almost unregarded.” - -And so on, most interesting remarks by Mr. Tupper. - -Clementina looked like a comfortable island. We recognised the port, and -the high green hill, which the illustrations pictured as the site of the -mission. - -The _Violetta_ was anchored not far from the shore. Mrs. Ulswater and I -were landed on the white beach under the hill. We climbed the hill. -“On the very crest,” in the words of Mr. Tupper's description, stood “a -cluster of bamboo cottages hidden in foliage.” The Asylum! - -_Horribile dicta!_ - -“Well,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “I never!” - -The cottages were empty! Nay, ruined, decadent, most of the roofs -fallen! Eight decrepit bamboo structures in a row! The traces of a lawn, -now faded into wilderness! Oh, neglect and desolation! What had we here? -An orphaned orphanage! Most ridiculous of asylums! - -A hen fled yelling across the open. In the wake of, in pursuit of, this -hen, there rapidly wriggled out of the thicket seven scratched, and -scarcely to be called clothed, individuals. My impression was immediate. - -I said, “They are the orphans!” - -They were. They sprang up in line. They bowed. They shouted with -remarkable unison: - -“Good morning, sir! Good morning, ma'am!” - -We gasped. We were astounded. “Well,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “I never!” - -They began to sing. They sang, in point of fact, as follows: - - “ Pull for the shore, sailor! - - Pull for the shore! ” - -all except for one orphan, from whose rounded mouth detonated the -statement, “I'm a pilgrim, I'm a stranger,” whose globular face was -slapped with incredible rapidity by the girl who stood next him, at the -head of the line, and who sang on imperiously, though the rest of the -chorus broke down: - - “ Heed not the rolling waves, - - But bend to the oar.” - -She had lank limbs, and the unmistakable features of an Aryan. I should -have described her offhand as a “personage.” - -“Susannah!” cried Mrs. Ulswater. “Don't tell me you're not!” - -“Present!” said Susannah. - -“Thaddeus?” - -“Present!” from the globular pilgrim and stranger. - -“James?” - -“Present!” - -James stood at the other end of the line. He was the smallest, Susannah -the tallest, and Thaddeus the fattest of the orphans. “Caleb?” - -“Present!” - -“Naomi?” - -“Present!” - -“Zillah?” - -“Present!” - -“Stephen?” - -“Present!” - -Very good. There they were. - -But alas! it was a run-down, abandoned asylum. Mr. Tupper, that talented -descriptive author, had died some six months before, of the fever that -seemed to be resident, or sporadic, in the island. - -I discovered, at Port Clementina, a sort of governor or prefect, who -seemed to be officially resident, and by nature sporadic, incidental. -He was the calmest official in the Indian Ocean. There were vast vacant -spaces in his mind. He did not know there were any orphans now at the -asylum. He had understood there wasn't any asylum left. In any case, why -not? In every conceivable case, why not? He had supposed they had all -grown up, or disappeared, or fallen off something, or died of the fever, -or snakes, or been adopted by natives, or something. Why not? In point -of fact, now he came to think of it, he had not supposed anything about -it whatever. Were they indeed still running around up there? Name of -God! How amusing! - -Mrs. Ulswater was indignant. - -The population of Clementina is of extremely mixed blood. That Susannah -was of Caucasian extraction--age fifteen or so; that Thaddeus also was -of some northern ancestry, by his light hair, high cheek-bones, -and slightly piggy eyes; that James was a diminutive Malayan--as I -judged--age perhaps eight; and the rest miscellaneous African, Arab, -French, and what not--all this argues a curious history for the -island; which history I had no time to investigate, on account of Mrs. -Ulswater's indignation. - -Under the force of this indignation the orphans were swept swiftly -aboard the _Violetta_. The hen, above mentioned, also came along with -the current. The name of the hen is “Georgiana Tupper.” Mrs. Ulswater -accomplished it in this way. She made an alliance with Susannah. The -orphans were promptly aboard, Again, good! There they were. - -The following morning they weren't. We found only Susannah still with -us and Georgiana Tupper. The rest were gone, vanished forever. Captain -Jansen approached us, and touched his cap. - -“Yes'm. They yump; I hear 'em go yump, one, two, dree, four, six, un -I get out dey boat, un dose gone swim ashore, un her don' yump. I don' -know.” - -Mrs. Ulswater turned on Susannah. “What made them jump?” - -Said Susannah: “They ain't any good, those niggers. They're 'fraid.” - -“Afraid of what?” - -“Oh, they're just 'fraid to go. Their insides are all mush and dassent.” - -“You're not afraid, Susannah?” - -“Me!” - -Singular, scornful maid! - -We were unable to find the miscellaneous again. Apparently they hid, -preferring the incidental or sporadic life of Clementina. With this -diminished orphanage, we set over the Indian Ocean, seeking another -asylum for Susannah. - -I found at Clementina a curious variety of the Asteroidea or star fish. - -You never saw the beat of Susannah. - - - - -CHAPTER XI--RAM NAD - - -|IT was at Colombo in Ceylon that we met with Ram Nad. I asked for him -in the market place, and found him. He was sitting on a cobblestone, and -leaning over his basket, asleep. - -My acquaintance with Ram Nad began many years ago. Somewhere in my -indefinite and unmapped past, I once lived on the island of Ceylon, and -knew Ram Nad. He was by faith a Buddhist, by nature a painstaking liar, -by profession a medical practitioner, or quasi-physician,--not of the -allopathic school, nor of the homeopathic, but of the heteropathic -and absurd. But he practised sleight-of-hand tricks and mesmerism in a -manner that roused my profound respect. We exchanged informations, and I -had a great affection for him in those days. - -Even then he looked like a mixture of Abraham and an early Christian -martyr, with some resemblance to a sheep. - -I took him aboard the _Violetta_ in order to get his advice respecting -the orphan-asylums of his native land. - -Ram Nad already knew himself to be more vertebrate and sagacious than I, -but he did not know Mrs. Ulswater. - -The harbour at Colombo is no harbour, but an open roadstead, though -quiet at that time. - - “ The spicy breezes blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle, - - And every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.' - -The hymnal says so, but I don't agree with it. Three-quarters of Ceylon -is an abomination of swamp, sand, and jungle, with a most pestilential -and vile climate; whereas the normal Cingalese person is the mildest, -most peaceful and pious agriculturist that's to be found. - -Ram Nad wore a blue head cloth. The rest of his clothes were meant to -be white, like his beard. He squatted behind his basket. Mrs. Ulswater -rocked in her rocking-chair, knitting, looking at Ram Nad as if she did -not make out how to begin benefiting him. She examined Ram Nad, who -in turn examined Susannah, who in turn was, at that moment, playing -jackstraws. - -Ram Nad said there were no orphan-asylums in Ceylon that he could truly -recommend, which sounded conscientious. - -He continued: But for himself, he said, he was a lonely man; desolate -and empty was his house of the beautiful gardens; he was desirous -of children in his old age. The excellent Mrs. Ulswater--might her -benevolence be rewarded! the learned Dr. Ulswater--might his folly -and ignorance have been by time corrected!--he hoped these all would -understand his immaculate motives. For what said the Great Teacher? -“Let parents train their children, and their memories be honoured by -the same: let the husband give his wife kindness, together with suitable -ornaments and clothes, and let her be a thrifty housekeeper; finally, -let the pupils give attention, and the teacher instruct them in -knowledge.” The girl, he said, pleased him; therefore it was possible -that he might in righteous charity adopt her, instruct her. By a -singular accident he had but yesterday taken a solemn vow to adopt a -child to his old age; many had been witness to this vow. - -Mrs. Ulswater looked thoughtful. She rather wanted Susannah brought up -Presbyterian. “He quotes Scripture very well,” she whispered to me. “It -sounds queer, but maybe it's his clothes.” But she seemed disturbed, and -looked away at Susannah, who played jackstraws. - -I reflected vaguely about Ram Nad, on the different kinds of guile he -was equal to, and how if he went off with Susannah, the Indian Ocean -would seem less entertaining. Mrs. Ulswater appeared worried. - -Ram Nad waived the point, or appeared to. He said he would, if we liked, -display some marvels for our instruction, while further considering. -Then he opened a few common tricks. - -He took Mrs. Ulswater's sewing, threw it over the rail into the sea, -picked it out of the inner folds of his turban, and returned it. Then he -thrust Mrs. Ulswater's knitting needles down my throat and drew them one -by one from the pit of my diaphragm. It seemed so, sufficiently so. In -fact, it made me feel unwell. He induced Susannah to enter his enormous -conical basket, covered her and stirred inside with his hand, with a -violent circular motion, as one beats eggs with a spoon--took off the -cover, disclosed the interior, and shook it bottom up. No Susannah -there! - -He covered it, stirred again--eggs and spoons--turned it over, lifted it -again. There sat Susannah on the deck, safe but indignant. - -“You punched me!” she cried, and then turned distracted to clutch at the -small of her back. Mrs. Ulswater came to her help, and unbuttoning her -frock took out the jackstraws. They seemed to have been dropped down her -neck. Susannah was furious. - -Ram Nad next seated himself opposite her, and fell to crooning and -spooning with both hands--two spoons, infinite eggs. - -Mrs. Ulswater said, “Well, I never!” Even I may possibly have -ejaculated, “Ha!” - -The eyes of Susannah became fixed, her form rigid. Ram Nad stroked his -beard, Susannah the front of her frock. He sighed, she sighed. “Roll!” - She rolled; she kept on rolling; she rolled across the deck and brought -up in the scuppers, where she struggled to continue rolling. “Roll -back!” She rolled back. “Sit up!” She sat up. He fell to crooning and -waving--reversed spoons and a reaching after dispersed eggs. Susannah -blinked, relapsed, awoke. - -Remarkable maid, Susannah, strenuous, decided. She dashed at Ram Nad. -She snatched off his head cloth. She flung it in his face. She fled to -Mrs. Ulswater and wept loudly in her arms. - -Ram Nad looked surprised and partly martyred. - -“Nevertheless, I am not displeased,” he said, picking up his head cloth. -“I will take her to my house of beautiful gardens.” - -“Indeed you won't!” cried Mrs. Ulswater. “You ought to be ashamed of -yourself.” - -Ram Nad bowed his head, pulled his beard, and covered himself with -meekness. I suggested to Mrs. Ulswater that there was a Cingalese point -of view. - -“Surely,” Ram Nad, ineffably mild. “We say no more, excellent -Mrs. Ulswater. Other orphans are elsewhere to be found and the vow -accomplished. But now, if permitted, I go, and return soon with gifts -of fruit plucked in the gardens of my house, that our happiness may be -complete as the meeting of long-parted friends, pleasant as to the bee -is the honey of the flower.” - -It was all gammon about his house. He had no property except his trick -outfit in a basket, his moderate but amusing clothes, and a lien on a -cobblestone in the market. Mrs. Ulswater observed him quietly. I didn't -make out what she thought of his handsome remarks. - -He was rowed ashore in the gig, and came back later in a misshaped -Cingalese canoe, kilted fore and aft, with two coolies for rowers, who -promptly departed. He fished pomegranates and pineapples out of his -basket, and was very pleasant. He begged to be allowed to sleep on a -deck rug beneath our palatial awning. He said it was the custom of the -country. So it was, granted a rug and awning were handy. He talked a -number of kinds of gammon, and he knew I knew it was gammon. But, then, -I allowed that a Cingalese of his age and acquirements had a right to be -mythological in his statements. - -Oh, Ram Nad, friend of my earlier days! I'm free to admit your standards -of virtuous conduct were ever in some respects obscure, not to say too -much for me. - - - - -CHAPTER XII--RAM NAD CONTINUED - - -|MY family at midnight lay asleep in their staterooms. The Indian moon -shone on the _Violetta_, which lay lifting slowly with the swell. The -watchman sat forward. Ram Nad, with his chief garment wrapped about -his head, was stretched on a rug on the lee side and just above the -portholes of the stateroom occupied by Susannah. - -I was awakened by Mrs. Ulswater's suddenly pulling my arm. It was near -three o'clock in the morning. - -“Listen!” she whispered. “Now, wait!” To my bewildered sense became now -audible the sound of soft, regular steps in the outer cabin and on the -cabin stairs leading to the deck. I arose softly. - -I saw Susannah in her long night garment, of Mrs. Ulswater's making, -stiffly mounting the stairs with a military step! and beyond her, on -the moonlit deck, whom but Ram Nad, white-bearded, blue-turbaned, -white-garmented, beckoning, retreating! I was about to advance, when -at that moment Mrs. Ulswater shrieked loudly in my ear, and Ram Nad, -running forward, sharply shut and bolted the cabin door. An instant's -silence followed, then shouts and swift feet running aft. I rushed -to the port-hole. Past it and past my face went a swiftly falling and -fluttering body, which splashed in the sea. Was it Ram Nad? Was it -Susannah? Mrs. Ulswater was beating the door with her hands and crying: -“Catch that man, Captain Jansen! Catch that man!” Distressing moment! -Norah came from her room and mingled her voice in the tumult. But there -we were, locked in. - -The cabin door was opened. Captain Jansen's comfortable bearded face -appeared, “Yes, 'm. But he yump for das boat. He gone ofer.” - -“Then catch the boat. Quick!” - -“Yes'm. But I got das boat mit un grapple.” - -We all emerged on the warm night, on the moonlit deck. The women had -donned their shawls. This was the situation. - -Ram Nad's misshaped and kilted canoe was held fast, and one end lifted -from the water by a grappling-iron, at which a sailor was tugging with -a rope over the rail. The two black heads of his rowers were just -above the water at some distance, moving hastily shoreward, their wakes -shining in the moonlight. Ram Nad was nowhere in sight. Susannah stood -on deck, the watchman forward sat stiff and motionless--both of them -rigid, frozen, mesmerised, wrapped up in his or her inner consciousness -like a ball of yarn. - -“There!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “He didn't get Susannah. Doctor, we must go -away from this place. I don't like it.” - -“We can weigh anchor,” I said, “surely, now as well as any time. But, my -dear, as to these ossified unfortunates, I don't quite see. I'm no Ph. -D. Mahatma, nor yet a brindle cat, hell-broth witch. It's mortifying, -but that's my limit. I'm not on to Ram Nad's spoon motion, nor yet his -lullaby. Hadn't we better wait and find another magician that knows how -to untwist the charm? Because Ram Nad appears to be drowned, and these -two, according to my notion, are, as you might say, tied up particularly -tight.” - -Mrs. Ulswater tried to wake Susannah, but could not. She was indignant. -She thought that I treated the subject too lightly, in language I ought -to be ashamed of, that there was nothing funny about it. Maybe not. I -gave it up. I thought the situation was not without a certain sepulchral -but natural gayety. - -“Ashamed” I take to be a vertebrate condition. I never could fetch it. -It's left out of me. I've got no centre of personality, no angles to my -circumference on which to hitch a conviction of sin, never could seem -to get hold of that kind of embarrassment. Calling myself a series of -conventionally derogatory and ineffective names is the nearest I can -come to remorse. But speaking impersonally, no doubt Mrs. Ulswater was -right. - -At this point Captain Jansen called: “He's yump in! Yes, 'm. He's yump!” - -We ran to the rail. There Ram Nad sat in his kilted canoe, wringing the -water from his garments. - -Mrs. Ulswater said, “You come up here right away!” - -He seemed unwilling, but Captain Jansen dropped a rope ladder, and -the sailor jerked on the grapnel, rendering his position untenable. He -yielded and came, wearing an expression of injured meekness. He yielded -to Mrs. Ulswater's command. He spooned and crooned Susannah and the -watchman into normal condition, and retired hastily to some distance, -holding on to his head cloth, avoiding Susannah. - -Mrs. Ulswater now reduced matters to order. The indignant Susannah was -persuaded to bed. Ram Nad was put under guard. Mrs. Ulswater and Norah -retired. - -The anchor was raised. The _Violetta_ got under steam. We glided away -into the Indian Ocean. I remained on deck reflecting, inhaling the -soft breath of the dawn, gazing at the fair palace of the -night,--how marvellously roofed and lit, how floored with sparkling -mosaic,--considering two things which equally excited my admiration, -namely, the constitution of this world and Mrs. Ulswater. - -I conversed with Ram Nad. - -As far as I could gather from Ram Nad, he had first gotten into -conversation with the watch, and mesmerised that: Norwegian, after which -he had hung himself down from the rail and mesmerised Susannah through -the port-hole. A subtle performance! He did not dare enter the cabin, -having a nervous fear of Mrs. Ulswater. Mrs. Ulswater's emphatic cry had -roused the crew. He had plunged over, and, rising, clutched the edge of -the boat; which being grappled and the coolies fled, he had submitted, -first to concealment, then to capture. Now,--he continued,--were his -excellent intentions frustrated, his purposes to instruct the damsel, -who had intelligence and temperament suitable,--excepting that she was a -female of a tiger and not respectful of elderly men,--to instruct her -in wisdom, according to the Precept, to the end that people might behold -him performing wonders, and his riches increase. But how then? The -righteous man endeavours. But if frustrated, let him be content. Yet -he could but wonder for what reason he was now being carried away, -recklessly, from his native land. - -I didn't see, either, why we were carrying off Ram Nad, but it seemed -to have points of interest. I didn't see any real objection to it. I -suggested: - -“You don't think that you ought to be skinned or drowned? Why not? It -depends on Mrs. Ulswater's opinion. But see here, Ram Nad, if you ever -try to mesmerise Susannah again, or anybody aboard, I'll see to the -skinning privately. I'll insert Mrs. Ulswater's knitting needles into -your digestion, Susannah shall stuff your mouth full of jackstraws and -head cloth, and Mrs. Uls-water shall make a Presbyterian of your mangled -remains. You hear me!” - -Ram Nad took oath he would not. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII--CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S SECOND MANUSCRIPT - - -|PEACEFULLY we journey then over this balmy sea. My enlarged family is -at peace, excepting Susannah. The meekness, the surprised interest of -Ram Nad in us, in our purposes and his own situation, are irresistible, -except to Susannah. Mrs. Ulswater seems to regard him as a sort of -second orphan. Susannah resents this idea. - -We approach the Malay Peninsula. Ram Nad sits cross-legged on a rug, -teaching Susannah the Pali alphabet. I read the English poets to Mrs. -Ulswater, who sews garments for Susannah. So does Susannah, sometimes, -with vicious jabs. - -Mrs. Ulswater does not attend to the reading. She has something on her -mind. - -“Dr. Ulswater,” she says at last, “is Ram Nad a well-educated man?” - -“My dear, he knows everything that I don't. Therefore he knows -infinitely more than I do.” - -“Why shouldn't we bring up Susannah among us, instead of looking for an -orphanage any more?” - -“Perfectly possible.” - -“Why shouldn't we have a mission of our own on the _Violetta_, instead -of hunting for other people's missions?” - -“An idea!” - -“Well, then, we will.” - -“A sort of floating mission,” I continue. “Fascinating, unique -conception! That is, if pursued moderately. The orphans are a success, -so far, including--with some reservations--Ram Nad. But I wouldn't -invest too heavily, too rapidly, in orphans. I would take, in fact, some -pains to get hold of preferred stock.” - -She agrees thoughtfully: “Of course, the _Violetta_ won't hold a great -many. I should want nice ones. That's what you mean.” - -“Precisely. For instance, Ram Nad is more interesting, perhaps, than -those whom Susannah so forcibly described as inwardly composed of 'mush -and dassent.'” - -“Then that's what we'll do.” - -I think, then, with all deference to destiny, that we will. - -“I have sometimes wondered,” I remark to Mrs. Ulswater, “just what our -idea was in kidnapping Ram Nad--if it was quite accidental, or if we -were not, on that occasion--shall we say?--in collusion with accident.” - -“Why”--Mrs. Ulswater returns to her sewing--“of course! I thought he -wanted to steal Susannah. He wasn't a bit good at pretending. Goodness, -no! But I didn't know how he was going to do it, so I asked Captain -Jansen to stay awake below. But it would have been dreadful if Ram Nad -had drowned. I just let him try, because, of course, I thought, after -behaving so, he couldn't say much if we carried him off.” - -“But why, at that time, did we want to carry him off?” - -“It was the pictures in the big Bible,” Mrs. Ulswater replies. “All the -old men there look like him. I thought it would be nice to have him.” - -Such is our situation. Here I float on Elysian seas. (My next article, -on the Scaphopodae, will astonish the scientific world. My collection of -Cephalopterae is now unique. I have proved three mistakes in Schmidt's -classification of the Coelenterates.) - -Ulswater. - -P. S.--Ram Nad begs to remain with us. He is inwardly composed of guile -and gammon. Still, like Susannah, he is in a way a personage. - -But suppose Mrs. Ulswater learns Oriental mesmerism of Ram Nad, and -supplements--quite unnecessarily--by this means, her government of me. -I should protest: “No, Mrs. Ulswater! Not while I know myself master of -this household!” - -P. P. S.--Suppose she insists! - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: THE ISLAND OF LUA - - -South Pacific, _January._ - -|MRS. ULSWATER has collected more orphans. - -There are, without doubt, many methods of selecting the beneficiaries -of a mission, asylum, home for curables or incurables, or similar -foundation. Mrs. Ulswater's favourite method seems to be what one of the -new orphans calls “a coopdeetat,” but she denies any such preference. -She says “It happens so.” That may be, and yet I have a feeling--a -marital weakness perhaps--that she has a sort of pull, a secret -understanding, so to speak, with circumstances. With the bait foresight, -and the rod discretion, she catches the trout accident. - -Mrs. Ulswater, who first established over me a kind of Monroe Doctrine, -forbidding to other powers the annexation of any territorial portion -of me, followed it up by a species of suzerainty controlling foreign -relations; which having developed into something resembling the German -Empire,--that is, nominally an alliance, practically a solid entity of -control,--therein I rest, on the whole, patriotic and pleased. - -A month ago my family consisted of Mrs. Ulswater, Norah the maid, -Susannah the orphan, Georgiana the hen,--both from the island of -Clementina,--and Ram Nad, a Cingalese pundit and fakeer, whom Mrs. -Ulswater had collected cavalierly--I admit, cavalierly,--who, after -the learning of his race, practised medicine, hypnotism, and sleight of -hand; whose medical ideas were ridiculous, his magic good, his status as -an orphan an acceptable probability; whose chief property was his wicker -basket, shaped like a truncated cone, with a flat cover on top, his -vade-mecum, his universal container. - -All things he put into it, and there they disappeared. Many things he -took out of it. He was a bully magician, and looked something like a -prophet and something like a lamb. - -Mrs. Ulswater was originally interested in foreign missions. Out of this -interest she developed a mission of her own. Her purpose was to -employ the _Violetta_ as a migratory orphan asylum, or mobile base of -operations, from which to scatter regenerative ideas; to sail about -picking up casual orphans perhaps, introducing neatness, good habits, -and practical housekeeping to the Pacific Ocean, rearranging haply -its populations and politics; a sort of slumming on the high seas, an -oceanic College Settlement. A stupendous idea! The Pacific Ocean was -much in need of Mrs. Ulswater. It is a loose, untidy ocean, a “Bohemian” - ocean with its far scattered islands, lunging seas, and idle solitudes. - -“Brooms,” Mrs. Ulswater said, speaking of the islanders, “brooms, soap, -and taking pains, are what they need.” - -An ominous phrase, “taking pains”! Is it a fact that not enough pains -are thrust upon us in the normal course of events, that we must acquire -“pains”? - -I stumped Mrs. Ulswater with that question. Hadn't mankind enough pains -without taking pains? She said: - -“The Kanakas haven't,” and then reflected. “People,” she said, “never -got civilised by having a good time.” - -I fear that proposition is sound. - - - - -CHAPTER XV--SADLER - - -|The festival of Christmas was approaching. Susannah was greatly -excited over the preparations. Mrs. Ulswater was making mince pies. -Ram Nad--whose opinion of himself is that he is an astral and unworldly -soul, while Mrs. Ulswater's is that he differs from all heathen -described in the missionary quarterlies, and my own is that he is as -full of gammon as an eggshell is full of egg--Ram Nad was taking no -interest in mince pies. For myself, in the tropics, I would as soon -have eaten a pound of bent whalebone, or a swarm of congealed bees, as a -mince pie, whose inward action upon me would, I was sure, be similar to -that of resilient whalebone or thawed-out bees; and therefore, -although interested in mince pies, I yet regarded the subject with a -certain,--shall I say?--anxiety. It was under these circumstances that -we sighted, approached, and at length took anchorage at the island of -Lua. - -It was not an unknown Pacific Island, nor yet well-known. The date of -its discovery, its size, inhabitants and products will not be found -stated in a school geography, but a good chart will show its location. -Whether or not there were any white men there I did not know, but -thought it likely. There is a considerable and curious drifting white -population in the South Pacific. The Caucasian is ubiquitous. There is -a restless germ in his blood, unknown to the Oriental and mysterious to -himself. - -A numerous village of wattled huts stretched along the white beach of -the bay where we came to anchor. I have been not a little here and there -in the South Pacific in my time, but never before on the island of Lua. -Its blue and lilac mountains in panorama,--white threads of falling -water on their steeps,--its nearer hills, palmy and green and like moss -in the softening distance, the smooth lacquered water in the bay, the -beach, the little brown huts with domed roofs of leafy thatch, truly all -seemed at peace. A few people came down to the beach to observe us, and -presently a boat put out,--not one of the native outriggers, but a -dumpy little ship's dinghy. With the aid of a glass I made out that the -occupants were two white men. - -Of the two men, who now came aboard the _Violetta_, the foremost was -a tall, bony, swing-shouldered powerful man, with a melancholy -countenance, dangling gray moustache, whitish hair, lean throat, -remarkably large hands, and a husky voice, who carried a banjo swung -by a cord around his neck; the other was plainly a Hibernian, -stoop-shouldered, his hair and whiskers forming a circular, complete, -and resplendent aureole around his face, at the centre of which aurora a -short black tobacco pipe was firmly inserted. - -“How do?” said the bony stranger, mournfully, and then casting his eyes -down on the _Violetta_'s deck, he stopped and gazed. - -On the flowered carpet under the neat awning sat Mrs. Ulswater as usual -with her workbasket beside her, her knitting in her hand; there were -the rocking chairs with their doilies, some geranium pots along the -scuppers, and some lashed to the awning supports; there sat that -venerable Cingalese, Ram Nad, with his magic-basket beside him; Susannah -held Georgians Tupper in her lap. - -“I don't seem to get my vest around your combination,” said the bony -one, observing this domestic scene. “Is it waxworks, or pirates?” He -looked worried about it. “My name's Sadler,” he continued, “and this -yere conflagration behind me is named Irish or Jimmie Hagan, just as you -like. We'd be pleased to know you.” - -This sounded ingratiating, though his countenance was melancholy. -Presently he sat in one of the doilied rocking chairs, with his feet -tucked away behind him, and he seemed easy-going in his talk, and candid -as to his history. - -He had been a sailor once, as it seemed, on a smuggling or filibustering -ship along South American coasts, and after that had lived in the city -of Portate, South America, and from there he had gotten himself banished -on account of his interest in romantic politics, and gone to California, -and made money in some kind of Oriental trade; but lately he had been -in Burmah professionally, that is to say, his profession there had -been that of a sort of high priest, a species of abbot of a kind of -monastery; and after that in Sumatra. But a month or more since he had -dropped on Lua. The island had interested him by its romantic politics. -He had resolved to “take a hand in that seducing game, which it looked -real sporty,” he said, “and I judged the showdown was coming soon, but -it hasn't yet, and it's been rolling up the blankedest jackpot you ever -saw.” - -“What!” said Mrs. Ulswater. - -“Beg pardon, ma'am. I shouldn't have swore, but them's the facts.” - -“What are the facts?” - -Sadler looked worried. - -“May I,” I said, “venture to suggest that your terms are perhaps a -trifle technical, or--shall I say?--a trifle remote. Let me explain to -Mrs. Ulswater that by a 'showdown' is intended merely the decision of -a given issue; that a 'jackpot,' as such, may be defined as an -accumulation of undecided issues.” - -“Why,” said Sadler, “you see, doctor, it's this way. Your ideas about -technical language and mine don't jibe with each other, and I'll bet -my last week's shirt to yours of the week before, Mrs. Ulswater's idea -ain't agreeable with either of us on which point my own opinion was -similar to his, and I regretfully let pass that interesting wager. - -“Well!” said Mrs. Ulswater again; “What are the facts?” - -Sadler then described the politics of Lua, in a voice slow, husky, and -bereaved. - -“Some years ago,” he said, “a friend of mine, who was a white man named -Craney, was king of Lua, for he bought out the different candidates, -or pooled the interests, or something, and mounted the throne himself. -Anyhow, he was killed in a ruction. It occurred to me to come around -this way, which happened about a month back, to ask Craney for the job -of Prime Minister, but I found he was dead, and the place seemed to me -then on the edge of another dynastic war. There was a young chap named -Kolosama, who was the son of the king who succeeded Craney, and there -was an old chap named Ogelomano, who claimed the throne by right of -superior wisdom, with some other complicated rights, and relations, by -which it appeared he ought to have been king before. Awful names, ain't -they? Well, this yere royalty appeared to be partly hereditary, partly -elective, and mostly revolutionary, which is all very well, but hard -feeling inside of families is vicious. That's my opinion. Kolo had the -largest backing, but Ogel had the superior wisdom, as appeared from -this: namely, he immejitly laid himself out to get the support of -the newly arrived combination of military genius, statecraft, and -diplomacy--that's me. Arguing with a scrupulous conscience, then, I -comes to this conclusion; I says: 'The first requirement for a happy -kingdom is a forehanded king; the next is a superior Prime Minister; -which it's clear from the behaviour of this party that he knows what's -what, and it's clear from the behaviour of the other party that he ain't -got no real penetration at all; nor he ain't onto the points of royalty, -or he'd know that a kingdom without a Prime Minister is as unhappy as -a cat with no dog to chase her, which anybody but a fool knows; and -consequently this yere Kolosama is unfit to rule this balmy isle, and -this yere Ogel is a promising monarch. That's my opinion.' I stated that -argument to Ogel, and he agreed that was a tart argument all right, and -I was a Prime Minister sent by the gods. Then Ogel and Irish and I, we -went over till we come to the palace, which is built of bamboo and all -on the ground floor, but else-wise is a commojous mansion, and chuck -full of Craney's furnishings; and we discharged artillery from the front -door, to let folks know we was on the throne. Then Kolosama collected -his party, and went off to the other side of the island, and declared -war. Then we called him, on the chance it was a bluff. So it was, and so -was ours. Neither of us showed down. That's how it is. Me and Irish -with Ogel's warriors, and Kolosama with his warriors, have been prancing -forth over these picturesque mountains like we intended to be real -vicious, and dodging back till the island's near distracted. We've -got the wisdom and foresight, and we got all Craney's firearms by -the coopdee-tat, but Kolo appears to have a majority of the foolish -population with him just now, and there you are. There's your jackpot, -which me and Kolo are playing for. I haven't got the hand to open it, -or to do anything but jockey for position, for Kolo's got most of the -warriors. I don't know what's the matter with him, unless his warriors -don't like gunpowder. Maybe his hand's weaker than it looks, but I'd bet -something if I held it, this jackpot would be opened.” - -“What sort of a man is Ogelomano?” I asked, when Sadler paused. - -“Fat and sulky,” he said; “but I've seen worse. I've seen homelier -looking men too, somewhere, but I've forgotten where that was. Maybe it -was in a nightmare. For that matter Kolo's all right enough too. I guess -the island would be happy with either, were t'other dear charmer away.” - -Sadler stopped and rubbed his chin gloomily, and said: “Nice outfit of -yours. Waxwork pirates, maybe?” - -I explained the purposes and mission of the _Violetta_. - -“Floating orphan asylum,” said Sadler, “sort of perambulating -benevolence, and steam-propulsion mission house, to teach temperateness -to the tropics. Why, that's all right. A chap that wants to pad his soul -with good deeds, and go to sleep on his benevolence like a downy bed, -why, he's got a good proposition. I've done it myself, and it worked, -more or less. But I always got restless.” - -He began thrumming distressful and complaining chords on his banjo, -looked off to sea with a dreamy expression, until presently he raised a -tune that never should have existed, and sang to it in a voice like that -of a walrus with a cold: - - “ I want to be an orphan, - - And with the orphans roam, - - A millionaire my guardian, - - A steam yacht for my home--- - -“Doctor,” he said, huskily; “it's this way. You've come to the right -shop with those goods. Yere's your chance for benevolence. If you'd -steam around to the other side of Lua, and find Kolo, which I could spot -his location for you pretty near; and if you'd ladle him out some of -that there benevolence, and tell him you were his long-lost aunt that -was thinking of giving him some toy firearms, maybe he'd come aboard. I -shouldn't wonder. But if he brought any warriors with him, you'd better -make him send them ashore to wash their faces, which they'll need it all -right. Then if you happened to get up steam and sail away with him, and -took him to the States, and give him a college education, and sent -me the bill, why, I'd send a draft on San Francisco for any amount -in reason. Why, see yere, doctor, that scheme is neat surely, and -benevolent to hatch eggs, ain't it? Yere you leave the island of Lua -with its politics smooth as milk, and a forehanded king whose policy -is guided by an unequalled Prime Minister, in the direction of single -matrimony and a vegetarian diet. Consider that strategy! Regard it! Look -at it all around! Remark the moral purpose! Catch onto its simplicity -of design! Why, it's a wonder!” I looked at Mrs. Ulswater, who had said -nothing during the above, but sat there sewing, and sometimes glancing -up at Sadler. Now she laid down her sewing and said: “Are you sure the -island would be better off if one of the kings were taken away?” - -“Sure, ma'am! Why, look at it! You can see for yourself.” - -“Of course it would look so. But then, is Kolosama a nice person? We -don't like to take orphans without knowing about them.” - -“I'll tell you on the square, ma'am,” said Sadler, “Kolo ain't bright, -or he'd have called me before now. He's slow. He's plodding. Moreover -he's self-willed and opinionated. He don't take to prime ministers, or -official advice. He needs discipline, and he needs encouragement. And -yet I'd call him a promising kid, and a hopeful orphan. He'd be a credit -to you. Yes'm. No doubt of it.” - -Mrs. Ulswater took up her knitting and said, “I should like to see the -older king first.” - -“If you'll come up to the palace to-morrow,” said Sadler, “the old man'd -be pleased to see you. You've no notion how he'd like Kolo to have a -foreign education.” - -He gathered up his large frame, murmured, “Piratical waxworks!” and -departed, together with Irish, who silently smoked his short black pipe. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI--AT THE PALACE - - -|IT seemed to me that a Prime Minister who composed poetry impromptu and -played the banjo, was a species never yet examined and classified by me. -But as to Kolosama's entry into my family circle, it seemed to me the -selection of orphans should be made only on strong recommendations. - -The next morning Mrs. Ulswater, Susannah, and I started. A well-trodden -path led through the forest, and at the end of a few miles came out into -a pleasant valley, where lay a scattered village of huts for the most -part small, fragile, and consisting generally of a woven roof, posts to -support it, and an occasional mat between posts. The palace was easily -distinguished, standing in a grove on a hill, a long one-storied bamboo -house, surrounded by piazzas. Evidently it had been built by a white -man. In some odd way it suggested the States. - -Sadler met us in the village, and brought us to his own dwelling, which -stood at the foot of the palace hill. I judged it had been furnished -from the palace with properties of King Craney. It included five bamboo -huts adjoining each other. - -A Kanaka servant, who stood by the door of one of them, shrieked -and vanished. That hut seemed to be the kitchen. A cat of faded and -depressed appearance replaced the Kanaka in the doorway. - -“Oh, please!” cried Susannah, “May I have that cat?” - -“Dolores is her name,” said Sadler, looking dreamily at the cat, -“which she likes to sleep on pies. She's got a heart sorrow, sort -of indigestion of the spirit, same as me. Some of it comes from -dissipation, some of it on account of sleeping in the oven on pies, -which has varieties of climate pretty stiff, so she's got a seared -and wasted look, as you might say. Besides,” he added after a moment's -thought, “she ain't got no dog to chase her.” - -“Goodness!” said Mrs. Ulswater, looking into the kitchen. “Isn't it -awful!” - -She was down on Sadler's housekeeping to an extent you'd hardly believe. -Still, it must be admitted that the weeds growing over the floor made -his kitchen look like a pasture lot, and that the kitchen windows were -somewhat untidy on account of the Kanaka cook throwing slops at them -from a distance. There was coffee in a china vase, and tobacco in the -teapot. There was a hen laying an egg in the soup tureen, which fitted -her very neatly and snugly. - -“Please!” cried Susannah again, “May I have this cat?” - -“Sure!” said Sadler. “It ain't good for her here. She gets bad habits -living along of me. Any cat would that lived along of me.” - -We went up to the palace. It was furnished profusely with the kind of -things that seem stuffy in the tropics, for the lamented royalty called -Craney seemed to have had a taste for plush-covered chairs, red-flowered -carpets, portières with fringes and tassels, glass-bangled lamps, and -gilded clocks. For the clocks King Ogel seemed to share King Craney's -weakness. I counted fourteen clocks in the audience room, all going but -three. The king sat on a plush sofa among his clocks, fanning himself. -The largest and gildedest clock stood on the floor in front of him. - -He was an elderly man, stout and unwieldy, of morose expression, his -complexion inferior, and his grizzled hair stuck full of chicken bones. -He wore a pink shirt without a collar, a shell necklace, and a kind of -skirt that seemed to have been formerly a lace window curtain. Sadler -introduced us. The king grunted, “How do,” and we sat down on the plush -chairs and discussed Sadler's scheme. Sadler expatiated on the highly -moral qualities in it, the peace that would fall on the distracted -island, when Kolo was thus removed strategically and for his own best -welfare. The king looked pleased. His pleasure seemed to arouse his -hospitality, and his hospitality was startling. He rose, shouted, and -stamped. From far piazzas came scuttling, came running, brown men and -women bearing baskets and platters; in the baskets was fruit, in -the platters fish cooked most messily, and other articles of diet -indescribable, which I had no curiosity to taste. But I thought Mrs. -Ulswater seemed favourably impressed with the king. - -Now fell the hour of ten, and the clocks broke out striking noisily. - -Over the king's face passed an expression of unutterable delight. His -heavy cheeks wrinkled into smiles. He thumped his chest and chuckled. He -turned from clock to clock, keeping his eye in particular on the great -gilt clock at his feet, from whose ornate front no sound as yet was -come. - -The clocks all ceased. But the great gilt clock had not struck. - -Suddenly as a crash of thunder the king passed from chuckling happiness -to anger, violent and uncontrolled. He clambered to his feet. He -stamped. He swore in the language of beach combers and decayed mariners, -inexcusable, abominable. He shook his fists at Sadler. - -“My clock don' go!” he shrieked. “Arrr! She don' go!” and snatching up -a fruit basket, he fell, in utter and abandoned rage, beating, -kicking, yelling, swearing, scattering fruit, upon the frightened and -frizzle-haired henchmen and henchwomen, who fled with tumult and wailing, -from room to room, from piazza to far piazza, and beyond into the -forest, where the noise of pursuit died distantly away. - -I was amazed. Mrs. Ulswater sprang up. - -“Is _that_ a king!” she said indignantly, and started for the piazza -followed by myself, by Susannah with the cat, and by Sadler in -deprecation. “He ought to be spanked! That's what he ought,” said Mrs. -Ulswater. - -“You're right, ma'am,” said Sadler. “Ain't a doubt it would be a good -thing, and I was thinking, when you spoke, as how, when Kolo was gone -and things was settled, I'd just get that introduced quiet like into the -regular court ceremonial, putting it under the heading of 'Official Care -of the King's Person,' which I was thinking, ma'am, as how it was my -recollection a strap got there better'n a shingle. Yes'm.” - -Mrs. Ulswater stopped on the edge of the porch, mollified. - -“Would you really do that?” - -“Yes'm.” - -“Well,” she said, “if you'll catch that king and bring him down to tea -this evening, we'll think it over by that time. Goodness! How do you -know Kolo is any better?” And we returned to the _Violetta_. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII--MRS. ULSWATER TAKES ACTION - - -|SADLER came down late in the afternoon, and with him little Irish -and King Ogel. If Mrs. Ulswater was expecting a contrite king, she was -disappointed. He strutted across the deck in front of a bodyguard of -three huge warriors, whose garb and outfit were more ferocious than -ornamental, more ornamental than decorous, and more ornamental in -intention than in result. He was unashamed. His misbehaviour had left -no traces on his complacence. He was impertinently vain of that terrific -bodyguard. I noticed Mrs. Ulswater's expression become suddenly set and -determined. I knew the king's complacence irritated her, his unrepented -misbehaviour roused her instinct for discipline. Something was going -to happen. I looked at the warriors. I wished it might not be something -that would cause the introduction into my anxious digestive organism -of those shovel-headed spears, unpleasant objects, nay, surely -indigestible. I hoped for the best. I was calm but expectant. - -“Doctor,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “when kings are invited to tea, don't -people have entertainments for them?” - -“Invariably! Music and dancing!” I exclaimed, delighted, relieved at -the turn Mrs. Ulswater's intentions seemed to be taking. “Daughters of -Herodias--hem--I mean to say you are quite right. No barbaric potentate -can swallow his victuals without some agreeable distraction.” - -“Of course we haven't any of those things,” she said, and looked -thoughtfully at Ram Nad, who was squatted near on the flowered carpet, -“but if Ram Nad should hypnotise the king's men, don't you think it -would amuse him?” - -She pointed to the bodyguards. I thought it would. Ram Nad consented. - -Venerable and unappalled, he drew near, sat down in front of the guards, -and began his monotonous chant and circuitous gesturing before their -stolid faces, whose stationary expressions and complexions variegated -with tattoo were unmoved by Ram Nad's odd behaviour. Slowly those -copper-skinned and impassive spearmen in ornamental outfit keeled over -and lay stretched and rigid, mute symbols of barbarism, promiscuously -prostrate, frozen ferocities, motionless images of war. A whirl of Ram -Nad's hand, and they rolled, tumbled, turning promiscuity into chaos, -across the deck, and brought up in the scuppers among the geranium -pots. There lay shields and spears, sprawling legs and tattooed faces, -grotesque and horrific, among the brown earthenware pots, the round -velvety leaves and small red petals of that plant so familiar in the -cleanly windows of our native land. - -The king was delighted. He thumped his chest, and laughed. - -Jimmie Hagan took his pipe out of his mouth, profoundly astonished. - -Sadler murmured “Waxworks!” - -“More!” the king commanded, doubled over with laughter. “More!” - -He wanted the bodyguard tumbled down the companionway, but Mrs. Ulswater -wouldn't allow it. The king turned sulky. Language rumbled in his throat -preparing to be shrieked. - -“Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater; “As if I'd let those things into my -parlour! Have them tumbled down the gangway if you want to.” - -The king brightened up. Infatuated man, he did not see--he had no -inkling of--the danger that lurked in Mrs. Ulswater's set mouth and -determined expression. I could have warned him, but refrained. Clearly -she was right about the incongruity of fully armed and half-naked -warriors precipitated down stairs into parlours. One feels the -impropriety of it. - -While Ram Nad, at the king's boisterous order, was extricating the -warriors from the geranium pots, and while Mrs. Ulswater went forward -and was talking with Captain Jansen, I was thinking it impossible -that she meant to allow the bodyguard to be sent helplessly overboard, -inhumanely, to the great peril of drowning. I was about to intervene, -when I saw Mrs. Ulswater return, followed, to my surprise, by Captain -Jansen and the crew. - -“There!” she said, pointing; “Be quick!” - -Judge of my astonishment, when Captain Jansen and our muscular crew fell -upon Sadler, Hagan, and King Ogel, and jerking each backward, proceeded -to tie them hands and feet. - -“Murther!” said Hagan. “Murther,” he repeated more mildly, and then, -“Hand up that poipe.” - -Susannah cried, “Goody!” and rushed about. She was distracted by all -that wealth of curious phenomena, and the scattered arrangement of -objects of interest. - -“Pirates!” shouted Sadler. After one huge lunge he subsided, and -laughed. He thundered with husky merriment and unseasonable mirth. - -The humiliated and outraged monarch began eloquently, but Captain Jansen -clapped his hand over and corked up the royal anathema. They carried -King Ogel forward. My impression is that Captain Jansen used a strap, -varied, perhaps, at intervals, by a board, to impress upon him Mrs. -Ulswater's opinion. We heard of him, for the time being, no more. - -“Tie up those Kanakas!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “Now, Ram Nad, wake them up. -Now, they must be taken ashore. Captain Jansen, you must get up steam. -Untie Mr. Sadler and Mr. Hagan. There!” - -She sat down, rocked nervously, and took up her knitting again. Sadler's -laughter had ceased. We both looked at her. We wondered and waited. - -“Well!” she said at last defiantly,--as the sound of oarlocks told -of the boats drawing away shoreward, loaded with disentranced but -well-roped, disarmed, bewildered warriors,--“I don't know what you -think, but I think Ogel would have been a dreadful king, and from what -Mr. Sadler said, I think Kolo will do better. Besides, it's easier to -carry off the one that's handy, instead of running after the other, -isn't it? Of course it is.” She added a moment later, “Of course, Mr. -Sadler, you needn't come away unless you like, but you said you didn't -get on with the other king, and I thought it would please Dr. Ulswater. -I know he enjoys your company.” - -Sadler wiped his eyes and sighed. - -“I ain't been dished up so green and tasty, like a salad,” he said, -“since me and Moses and Pharaoh used to play draw poker, and Moses kept -special providences up his sleeve, nor I ain't had such a good time -since the last time I was licked for stealing horehound candy; which my -recollection, ma'am, is in favour of straps rather'n shingles. It's all -right. Lua's too small for me. You can't stretch nights without kicking -other families out of bed, which makes reverberating scandals. If you -sit down, you squash the judiciary; if you get up, you shake the throne. -This civil war's no good. Why, - - What's a war without no slaughter? - - I'd rather be at - - A Coopdetat - - By Mrs. James Ulswater.” - -Mrs. Ulswater went below. Her nerves were perhaps a trifle upset. Not -so Susannah. But Susannah was young. She sniffed the battle of life. She -thrilled to the keynote of action. She fell upon Jimmie Hagan with -eager inquiry as to his precise feelings throughout the late excitement. -Sadler and myself stood watching the landing of the spearmen. - -“You don't mind going with us?” I asked him. - -“Me? No! I'll have to get even with you sometime or be restless. I -ain't up to abducting Mrs. Ulswater nor Susannah, but I'll lay for you, -doctor. You'd better put Jimmie on the crew. He's a good seaman. I'll -be a guest, or a passenger, or an orphan, anything you like. Why, look -yere, doctor. Mrs. Ulswater's been and took me out of temptation to -stamp on my fellowman, and I'm grateful. She's given me a chance at -innocence. Why, my fellowman's always lying around in my way, and I keep -stepping on him, and kicking holes in his garments when he has any, and -bumps on him where he hasn't, and then I goes off to eat sackcloth and -ashes, and wear bread and water. That's mostly the monotonous way of -it. But the point that gets me is this: I recommend an orphan, and -she thinks that'll do for a king; I recommend a king, and she has him -spanked for an orphan. Now, if a candidate for a throne ought to qualify -that way, maybe he ought; but I never heard of it before, which is why -you see me dished for a salad.” - -So departed the _Violetta_ from the island of Lua. May its politics have -peace! - -The knock-out drops which Ram Nad kept in the ends of his fingers, on -the whole, had worked better than mine, and Mrs. Uls-water's logic had -been, as ever, penetrative, precise, practical. - -The preparations for celebrating Christmas were resumed. My anxieties -returned. I confided them to Sadler. I said: - -“It is my fixed opinion, that for revelry and sorrow, for a taste of -Eden's rapturous but snaky joys, a mince pie in the tropics lays over -most things.” - -“Why, look yere, doctor,” he said. “That there king's got a tempestuous -liver that can't be downed, and he likes pies. The king 'll eat it, -sure, he'll eat it.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII--CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S THIRD MANUSCIPT - - -|A LYRICAL poem composed by Sadler, and by him sung inharmoniously to a -banjo:-- - - “I'm, so to speak, shanghaied to sea; - - And who you think my shipmates be? - - One family of millionaires, - - Rambling the deep in search of heirs; - - One hypnotiser Oriental; - - One orphan maiden ornamental; - - One widowed cat; one spinster hen; - - A crew of blue-eyed Swedish men; - - One head of hair too hot for wearing; - - One captive monarch spanked for swearing-- - -is not what you would call amethystine or ethereal; but poetry, of a -kind, we have come to expect of him. But when Susannah brought me a -ballad, composed by herself, on the foregoing events, it produced in my -mind--and I speak moderately--a state of exhausting confusion. I copy -this ballad. It is entitled “The Kings of Lua.” - - 'There were two kings in Lua, - - Which only could use one. - - Now Sadler came from Sumatra - - And needed some more fun. - - - “He was a white man, although - - He was not exactly white, - - But tanned and played on the banjo. - - Which angels would delight. - - - “He said, 'Prime Ministers are good things, - - And I'm one of those things, Hooroar! - - I'll bet my last week s shirt, O Kings: - - To yours of the week before.' - - - “The old King wore a pink one neat, - - But not much else did wear. - - His face looked something like mince meat. - - Some bones were in his hair. - - - “Another man was Irish, - - And I will make a joke, - - His hair it was so fierish, - - That always he did smoke. - - - “The other King we never saw; - - He didn't come to tea. - - Oh, wretched island of Lua - - I weep and wail for thee. - - - “ So then they had a war, - - Although they never fought. - - 'There's something ails this civil war,' - - Said Sadler, 'I wonder what.' - - - “Ha! Ha! The _Violetta_ - - Came sailing in one day. - - Ogel and Sadler and Irish - - We yanked and took away. - - - “About Lua now it is now known, - - I'll tell you what I think. - - I think Kolo ran up the throne - - As quick as he could wink.” - - - Yours--ULSWATER. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX--DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: THE MYSTERY OF -GEORGIANA AND DELORES - - -Samoa. _March_. - -|IN respect to incisive logic, decision, and force, I have sometimes -thought that Susannah resembles Mrs. Ulswater. The characters of -both, in contact with my temperament, produce a harmony, thrilling but -agreeable. But then my temperament is a kettle drum. I have sometimes -thought that on a temperament more lute-like, the impact of Susannah -might produce--shall I say?--surprise. On the temperament of -Sadler,--melancholy and yet buoyant, intricate and yet simple,--the -impact of Susannah seems to produce sometimes extraordinary jubilation, -sometimes a condition quite the reverse. He calls her “a melojous -circus,” a phrase implying jubilation. - -He is a man of moods, a contrast to the consistent placidity of Ram Nad, -the Occident to the Orient. Are they then supersignificant types of that -new world and that old? One of them turns to life's mystery a bold but -troubled face, and covers with a jocular and careless manner a soul -unreconciled. The toil and restless wandering of individuals, the -surging migration of races, the incessant change called progress, -are all but the symptoms of his feverish discomfort, his cosmic ill -adjustment? And the other, the Ram Nads, the old-world type, meek, -timid, tricky, placid, has it found at least, out of its age-long -thoughts, how to make its truckling peace with the mystery? C'est un -grand peut-être. Meanwhile the education of Susannah is the principal -enterprise of Mrs. Ulswater, Sadler, and me, to say nothing of Ram Nad. - -It was my habit to read aloud from the poets, the divine Shelley, the -noble Tennyson, the golden Keats. Susannah's opinion of these poets was, -on the whole, scornful. - -They appeared to her tortuous and deceitful. Their language was, she -thought, “mussy.” She did not believe they stated the facts. - -Hence, if any one had asked me sometime ago whether I thought it -possible or likely that Susannah would bud, bloom, burst loose and -explode into song, I should have said: “No! Impossible! Susannah has all -the materials of strident criticism, but none of poesy.” - -Nevertheless here lies her “Ballad of the Kings of Lua.” Here lies -moreover her tragic and profound “Ballad of Georgiana and Dolores.” What -can be said of them? First, this; that I take the immediate cause of -Susannah's explosion to have been Sadler. He has the lyric habit. He -composes as a rooster crows, whenever it occurs to him. He is apt to -state his mind in that form. The lyric habit is infectious; youth is -imitative; hence arise schools of poetry; hence Susannah's explosion. -But Susannah's gift is for the narrative, the reflective. She has not -the lyric cry. Hers rather are the forceful expression and the just -remark. - -We left King Ogel at Sydney. He was pensioned by Sadler. He will -probably pass his remaining years in intemperate leisure. Mrs. Ulswater -did not think there was any prospect of working his reformation. He -was not a desirable orphan. My opinion was that Susannah was occupation -enough for an orphanage. - -Of Georgiana Tupper, that reserved, that exclusive hen from the island -of Clementina, and of Dolores, that stricken cat from Lua, I am about to -speak. - -It was the 13th of February. We were steaming eastward somewhat to the -south of the Loyalty Islands. The weather had been oppressive, the night -turned threatening, and by morning it was blowing a gale. I went on deck -to watch the watery phenomena. The sea was tumultuous and black, -the clouds overhead hung low and rainy, and the intense wind trailed -streamers of cloud across the sea. - -Suddenly, as I stood there, a tall black column of water rose directly -ahead of the _Violetta_. - -She swerved aside in answer to her helm, narrowly escaped disaster; -and that contorted and insurgent object, that careening maelstrom, and -insensate Charybdis, that water spout, went whirling by on the port -side. - -But now, behold! the sea all about was columned with water spouts, -mushroom-shaped, their summits lost in eddying gloom--infuriate -smoke-stacks, roaring volcanoes waltzing on end--perpendicular -and intoxicated whales, bowelless of compassion, active and -voracious--gyrating black funnels of wind and water, full of exuberant -malice, full of demons of the nethermost deep striving to climb the -pendant and embattled heavens. Between the shattered sea and low -curtaining clouds, rumbled about us that tremendous warfare. Now and -again a spout would fall, broken like a pipe stem near its base, and -another heave up, grip the vapourish canopy above it, and come racing -over that chaotic ocean; through the midst of which forest of fluid -insanity and monstrous fungi of the sea--even as through some vast -cavern columned with maniac stalagmites and abandoned pillars of wet -combustion--we fled. - -How long this condition of affairs lasted, I could not say. How we -escaped, Heaven and Captain Jansen may know. The seas now and again -swept the deck. - -When we found ourselves at last with no water spouts anywhere near, and -the upper and lower world reasonably disconnected, Sadler and I went -below, where we found Mrs. Ulswater nervous, Susannah excited, Ram -Nad calm as a browsing cow. We discussed the experience. By night the -weather was fairly calm. Not till then did we find that Dolores and -Georgiana Tupper were missing. - -In the forecastle, it had been supposed that they were aft; in the -cabin, that they were forward. They were nowhere. The minutest search -was in vain. From one end of the yacht to the other we went--from deck -to keel. None could remember having noticed them, except Ram Nad, who -stated that he had seen them on deck before the tumult arose. No doubt -remained then. They were gone. What could be said? What interpretation -could be put upon it? What other than this? that in endeavouring to -pass, during the storm, from the forecastle to the cabin, or vice versa, -they had been blown or swept overboard. - -But why both? How, in particular, Dolores? Georgiana was but a hen; a -hen can be swept or blown; her anchorage is weak, her sail area apt to -enlarge with the wind; whereas Dolores was a cat, carrying four to five -anchors to each foot, and a sail area small under all circumstances. -What force then could have torn loose her desperate grapple? unless it -were--a pathetic possibility here--that, seeing Georgiana, the companion -and support of her bereaved existence, thus blown away, she had rushed -devotedly to her rescue; or--a still more affecting thought--that, -simply resolved not to outlive Georgiana but to perish with her, she had -cast herself after Georgiana upon the weltering deep. - -When this last idea occurred to me, I sought Susannah and turned it -over to her. The first effect was unfortunate. Tearful, at the time, -she burst out weeping. Mrs. Ulswater said I ought to be ashamed. Sadler, -with mournful sarcasm, did not see why a man, because he was full of -ideas, had to slop over like a tub of soapsuds--surely a mixed metaphor, -a confused figure of speech. - -Another idea occurred to me. It was that Susannah had the entire -sympathies of the _Violetta_ in tow. - - - - -CHAPTER XX--THE BALLAD OF GEORGIANA AND DELORES - - -THE BALLAD - - - - THERE was a cat and named Dolores, - - And she had many worries. - - They made her ill. They made her thin. - - Her stomach was all tumbled in. - - - “Oh, grief! Oh, dear' Who does not wail! - - Dolores had a beautiful tail - - It was black and partly yellow. - - She was so fair and good a fellow. - - - “ I don't mean she was ever fat, - - I mean she was a woman cat - - Now, there was a hen too. Oh Shame! - - Now Georgiana was her name - - - “ Now, to be proud she had a right. - - Her eyes they were very bright, - - And all her toes she had but one, - - Although some of her tail feathers were gone. - - - “Hark! The sea is full of awful posts - - Which make a person think of ghosts. - - Hark! The hurricane so fierce does blow. - - She is gone off the ship Woe! - - - “ Dolores did not wait to purr. - - 'Farewell,' she cried. 'I go to her.' - - The foam it slithered through her claws, - - She was drowned in Friendship's Cause. - - - “ My precious darling! Oh, my pet! - - You both so hated to get wet. - - Now you're as wet inside as a water pail, - - It makes me sick I die, I faint, I fail. - - - Now, sharks and whales, you are so big, - - If you should eat them, you're a pig, - - Now, little fish, make friends with them please, - - With Georgiana and Dolores.” - - - -FOOTNOTES BY JAMES ULSWATER. - -First Stanza: As the Ancient Mariner began his marvellous tale, “There -was a ship,” so Susannah begins, “There was a cat”--boldly, ruggedly, a -leap _in médias res_. The first stanza is a condensed and yet accurate -analysis of Dolores, ending with a striking bit of realism. - -Second Stanza: A wild burst of grief subsiding sadly into tender -reminiscence. Note how the proportions of black and yellow on the tail -of Dolores are delicately discriminated, the “black” being, in point of -fact, predominant. - -Third Stanza: We are introduced to Georgiana. Here arises a difficulty. -What was there in the condition of being “a hen” to warrant the -exclamation, “Oh, Shame!” Surely none! I interpret the passage thus: -the exclamation “Oh, Shame!” is simply the poetess' passion bursting -through, as it were, the reserve of the narrative, and in this way -it prophetically forecasts the fatal issue. It is not, I think, a -reflection or invective against hens, as such. - -Fourth Stanza: Observe how just and truthful are the details, how -Georgiana's right to a certain pride of manner, which indeed was -hers, is critically based upon the brightness of her eyes, upon the -approximate completeness of her toes. And yet it is honourably admitted -that there was a deficiency of tail feathers. - -Fifth Stanza: As the ballads of folklore are ever distinguished by a -certain abruptness of climax, so here Susannah. Note the present tense, -used only in this stanza. In the last line, how remarkable in effect -is the passionate interjection which follows the simple statement of -Georgiana's catastrophe! - -Sixth Stanza: Last line, “slithered”--a difficult word, and yet -effective! The whole line is masterly. - -Seventh Stanza: The last line is clearly a Shelleyan reminiscence, -a trace of my readings aloud of that poet. And yet, if Susannah had -plagiarised, it was at least, boldly, frankly. - -Eighth and Last Stanza: Note the contrast between the defiant and -denunciatory address to the “whales and sharks,” and the pleading -gentleness of that petition to the “little fish,” that they receive -with comfort and affection those sad and houseless visitants, who had -perished not ignobly, not unworthily. - -A poem composed by Sadler on the foregoing events: - - “The climates got out on a spree, - - A heaven-and-hell carouse, - - And Satan built along the sea - - The pillars of his house; - - And 'mong them all they drowned one hen, - - One played-out, seedy cat, - - And then slid off to sea again, - - And let it go at that, - - Leaving some waves to sob and worry, - - Leaving Susannah crying.-- - - Oh, Lord, this world is sound and fury, - - And nothing signifying. - - But come a time when heaven and hell - - Has settled their arrears,-- - - 'Bout twilight of the judgment day, - - When all the books are put away, - - And all the little souls gone home - - Each to its place in kingdom come-- - - The Lord and me, we'll set and--well, - - We'll set around and talk a spell - - About some woman's tears.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXI--SUSANNAH AND RAM NAD - - -|THE deck of the _Violetta_ had resumed its ordinary domestic look. -True, no Dolores lay on the carpet, no Georgiana pecked and scratched in -the scuppers. At some distance apart on his rug, his basket behind him, -in deep abstraction, sat Ram Nad. - -Ram Nad had absent-mindedness down to a science. He could roll up his -eyeballs and go off like a bullet. When not abstracted he usually -played jackstraws. What recondite connection there was between him and -jackstraws I never made out, but I suspected it was the delicate sleight -of hand required, and the practice it gave him, which fastened him to -that Occidental game. Certainly I would back him against any jackstraw -player--But there never was such a jackstraw player before. The laws of -physics were nothing to him. Gravitation in jackstraws he ignored. - -Sadler, Susannah, and I were in conversation under the awning, but Mrs. -Ulswater sat a long time silent. - -“Doctor,” she said at last, “do you think Ram Nad could have Georgiana -and Dolores in his basket?” - -Susannah started. On me too the idea had a certain volcanic effect. - -“Why suppose so?” I said. “Is there evidence? Have you a subtle -instinct? Does he look a shade more virtuous than usual? If he does, it -would go to prove he has been accumulating sin. But does he? He looks -to be precisely as usual. Why suppose they didn't go overboard? Why not -adopt my theory and Susannah's of Dolores' pathetic departure?” - -“I suppose they did.” - -Mrs. Ulswater sighed, and was silent for some moments before she went -on: - -“But if Ram Nad churned them into his basket the way he does with -things, after what I've told him, it's flat disobedience, and I won't -stand it from a heathen. Georgiana never would go on deck when the wind -blew, and they were both in the cabin the night before the water spouts. -Of course if I accused him of it, and it wasn't so, he'd be perfectly -crushing. He'd be crushing if it _was_ true, for that matter. But -somehow I don't see how it could have happened, and I won't have Ram Nad -getting the best of me. I wish you'd see if you can find out.” - -Now if anything suits my temperament and talent, it is wily diplomacy, -and the worming out of another man by devious ways the carefully guarded -secret of his soul. I took a camp stool and sat down before Ram Nad. -He was abstracted behind the whites of his rolled-up eyes. I said with -subtle suavity: - -“Wake up, you old Cingalese snake of a juggler!” - -Ram Nad came out of infinity, and answered with welcoming gesture: -“Imbecile, why do you trouble me?” - -“Where,” I said, “are Georgiana and Dolores, you depraved and disgusting -pundit?” - -“How do I know, pig?” - -But this limpid flow of pure reason was not, it seemed to me, really -headed for Ram Nad's soul secret. I skilfully shifted the attack. - -“Why, in this way you might have an idea, illustrious. As I understand -your theory of everything, it's this: The entire universe, you say, is -only a general idea which has the misfortune to be particularised in -spots. Normally, it's just an abstract conception, but parts of the -conception have somehow blundered into a curious condition called -concreteness. A very distressing condition, very. Bless my soul! -Concreteness is an awful catastrophe.” - -“As you state it so, it may be so stated,” said Ram Nad. - -“Now then, if any person then, such as Georgiana or Dolores, either -tragically, or peacefully, or in any manner whatever, becomes dead, you -say of them, simply: They have returned to generality; they are no more -separately existent; they are rid of the burden of identity; they have, -so to speak, disappeared in that airy original mixture again. Such would -be your description of the case.” - -“You possess some misunderstood fragments of truth, O brother,” said Ram -Nad. - -“Very good. But see here! When you churn things in that remarkable -basket of yours, and they are gone, and I ask: 'Where are they?' you -invariably say: 'They have become general ideas.' When I ask why I -can't see or touch them, you answer, 'General ideas are not visible or -tangible, but are of the mind purely.' Sometimes, at this point, I have -perhaps ejaculated, 'Gammon!' I apologise. Sometimes, on the other hand, -you have exclaimed, 'Imbecile!' I forgive. The question is this: -What's the difference between being generalised in a basket, and being -generalised by drowning? Are they not the same? Or do you follow my -argument, illustrious?” - -Ram Nad considered. - -“This is a worthy inquiry, O brother. It may be your mind is at -last becoming capable of thought? But how shall I answer. Is there a -difference? Should I not answer that there is none?” - -“There can't be, Ram Nad, there can't be!” I exclaimed. “Reason proves -it. Then, see here! Why can't you, then, restore Georgiana and Dolores? -It's all the same, for reason proves it.” - -If there did, as I fancied, for an instant pass over Ram Nad's -patriarchal face, into his meditative eyes, an expression, if not of -cunning, at least of a certain pleasant humanity, it vanished quickly. - -“You have yourself answered,” he said. - -“The difference is this: if the cat and hen of inquiry had been -generalised here by me, I could so restore them; but because they are -drowned, I am not able. Therefore the question is answered.” - -“I see. That was the point. I thought maybe you could--a pardonable -mistake--your talents are so extraordinary. I thought you might be a -resurrectionist on the side. You'll excuse me, I'm sure.” - -Ram Nad withdrew again behind the whites of his eyes, and I returned to -the awning, reflecting. Ram Nad had lacked hypnotic subjects since Mrs. -Ulswater put her foot down on his fixing any human inhabitant of the -_Violetta_ that way. - -But it struck me I'd never known a man with so fine an outfit for -casuistry as Ram Nad, such a liquid and euphuistic term for slaughter -and theft, such philosophic refinement in the practical process. Thus: -you generalise your neighbour's watch. It becomes an abstract idea, and -belongs to the original nebulous unity of pure conception. You go around -the corner and concentrate your mind on the idea till it's particular -again. You get about the same watch. Maybe not. Pretty similar. It -seemed so to me. - -“I pass,” I said to Mrs. Ulswater. “Who plays next? Ram Nad's got 'em, -that's my penetrative opinion; but he can bluff like a fire engine.” - -“I'm going to give him a piece of my mind,” said Mrs. Ulswater, -indignantly. - -“Why, my dear,” I said, “I don't believe it would fetch them. I believe -Ram Nad could put even a piece of your mind into his basket, and churn -it to a harmless generality. I do indeed. Your play, Sadler.” - -“Spank him,” murmured Sadler, sleepily. - -“Ha! King Ogel! Hum! Why didn't we induce Ram Nad to generalise that -king? Mightn't it have had a sort of--shall I say?--a refining effect, -a deodourising effect? Well, maybe not. Spanking was, in his case, -I should say, bracing, suggestive; as applied to a king, I admit its -point. But, now, as applied to a patriarch, I should draw the line, I -really should. Your turn, Susannah.” - -Susannah sprang up and started across the deck toward Ram Nad. We -watched her in silence, in expectation. She stood before him a moment -conversing, then dragged the conical basket around in front of him, and -of her own accord climbed into it. This was interesting. We all three -arose and drew near them, while Ram Nad covered the opening with a -corner of his loose garments, and fell to that familiar procedure -resembling the motion by which, with fork or spoon, the energetic -housewife blends and fuses the delicately organised egg into a yellow -somewhat, an inorganic mess. - -Wherein Ram Nad's skill or secret consisted, its scientific theory, -I did not--I do not now--profess or expect to know. I call him an A1 -magician, and pass the deal. Did it consist in hypnotic deception of the -observer? I incline to that idea, on account of the element of gammon -therein. Was it some unusual sleight of hand? Was it a knowledge and -control of some occult but natural law? I have at times leaned to that -hypothesis, only to return again either to gammon or the pleasant repose -of a gaseous doubt. He appeared to be able on request, with any object -not too large to go into his absorbent basket, there to dissolve the -said object into nothing. You could look into the basket. You could feel -with the hand. You could search Ram Nad's clothes, or comb his beard. -You would come to the end of ultimate wisdom, and conclude to pass the -deal. Then, on request, he would reproduce the object. - -Susannah is not a large object; she is about the size of Mrs. Ulswater. - -“You're sure she isn't taking any harm?” said Mrs. Ulswater, peering -into the mysteriously empty basket. “What on earth did you do with her? -Well, she's not there. Fetch her out.” - -Ram Nad covered the opening, churned a bit, and then rolled up the -whites of his eyes and concentrated his mind. - -“Stuff!” said Mrs. Ulswater, “You're pretending.” - -“Show not knowledge to a woman,” said Ram Nad, politely, “but -indulgence.” - -“Fiddlesticks!” - -He turned the basket upside down. Mrs. Ulswater tipped it over. - -By the sacred Bo Tree, by the antiseptic waters of Benares, what is the -wisdom of the East against the logic of Susannah? - -“Susannah!” I cried. Sadler and I clasped hands and danced, glorious and -flamboyant, in the circular manner of a “ring-round-rosy.” - -“Susannah, hosannah!” I cried, and Sadler chaunted: - - “Ram Nad, you're a son of a gun, tralala, - - Ram Nad, if that isn't one, tralala, - - On you I don't happen to know,” - -and continued, chaunting: - - “You'd better quit sinning of sins, tralala, - - Or you'll maybe be breaking your shins, tralala, - - On things you don't happen to know.” - -For there on the deck, smiling quaintly, sat Susannah! There, clasped, -one in each of her arms, were Georgiana and Dolores! - -Ram Nad rose silently. Martyred meekness was the foundation of his -facial expression. Dignity and charity were its fringes and decorations. -He went forward among the sailors. - -Calm was restored. Susannah explained. She had thought that, if Ram Nad -had put Georgiana and Dolores in some sort of place, and if he did -the same thing to her, perhaps she would be in the same place, and -why shouldn't she find them? Such was Susannah's logic, simple, yet -transcendental. Questioned on the matter of being churned, she said that -she began to feel very comfortable and soft, and then something like -custard, and then like custard that was all around everywhere; that is, -she was both custard herself and contained in custard; and so, reaching -out in the custard of which she consisted, she caught hold of Georgiana -and Dolores. So far Susannah. Such is all the evidence bearing on this -singular event. - -“Susannah,” I said, “I like your analysis. Do you happen to feel -anything in the nature of a ballad beginning to--to root around inside -you? Because--here is the point. This ballad, as it stands, of Georgiana -and Dolores, you see----” - -“That!” said Susannah, scornfully, “that's no good now. It isn't so.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXII--CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S LAST MANUSCIPT - - -|FOR four reasons we purpose now to move, by summery stages and many an -ocean isle, to Portate, whither these, my written words, will perhaps -not long precede us. - -The four reasons: First; the poet Sadler claims to have been once -banished by executive edict from the city of Portate, and has a notion -he would like to examine his condition of exile, so to speak, at close -range; to poke once more a certain irascible Jefe Municipal, or Mayor, -doubtless of your acquaintance, in the midriff of his temper. Second; -Mrs. Ulswater seems to have a singular hankering affection for one -who, she says, “was the nicest boy there is,”--a distinct opinion in a -confusion of tenses. - -Third; the poet Susannah. Now what the bearing may be, in Mrs. -Ulswater's mind, of Portate on Susannah, is not so clear to me. But to -me this is clear, that Susannah is in a way outgrowing the capacity of -islands. She is in need, I admit, of a continental connection. Fourth; I -have some researches to make in South-American archaeology. - -Ah, Susannah! What is there about this frank maidenhood that a mist -sometimes gathers in Mrs. Ulswater's lucid eyes in looking at her. -Susannah's nature is not, as yet, I should say, compact of softest -sentiment. Passionate in affection, sudden in resolve, terrific in -action, given to valour and wrath, why about her should the emotions of -this vessel all dance in a species of harmonious jig? Why should this -concussive and rebounding person rouse in my own glutinous nature a -phosphorescent glow, as of a jelly fish, and cause my languid tentacles -of emotion to flutter about like a flag in the wind? Why lies the -melancholy Sadler tonight on the small of his back in a deck chair, his -knees hooked over the rail, his feet pendant above the sea, and, in a -foggy voice, to an abominable tune and the twankle of an exasperating -banjo, sing: - - “Good night, my Starlight, - - Queen of my heart. - - You are my star bright, - - We are apart. - - Me where the high seas - - Thunder and smite, - - You in your sky dreams, - - Good night, Starlight.” - -I do not, indeed, apprehend Sadler to be directly addressing Susannah, -as such, in these terms and with that inharmonious vocalisation; but I -apprehend the impact of Susannah upon Sadler to arouse in him something -other than jubilation, something within the sunless caverns of his -memory, certain uneasy glimmerings of an old romance. And I ask, why? -To the eye of pure reason, Susannah contains as much of the vapour of -moonlit sentiment as a coal scuttle. The eye of pure reason, after any -continuous examination of Susannah, feels as if it had been in a prize -fight, and emerged therefrom a blackened optic and out of business for -the time. And yet there arises--hark! again, above the low breath of the -sea wind, rises that melancholy song: - - “ Good night, my Starlight, - - Trembling to tears, - - White is my hair, white - - In the wake of the years. - - Over the lee wave - - You shine on my night, - - Me, the old sea waif, - - Good night, Starlight?” - - - Yours--Ulswater. - -(End of Dr. Ulswater's Fourth and Last Manuscript. ) - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII--I RESUME THE NARRATIVE. THE PORTATE ULTIMATUM - - -|THE city of Portate, on the west coast of South America, when I knew -it, had already a distinct flavour of enterprise. Two Northern companies -had much to do with its affairs. One of them, The Union Electric, had -the trolleys and the street lighting; the other had been longer on the -ground, was called The Transport Company, and owned the inland railroad -and the principal line of steamers in the harbour. I had charge of The -Union Electric plant. Both were large companies operating in numerous -South-American cities. - -There is a river called the Jiron, which runs down from the mountains, -and makes a green strip through a desert land, and so on through Portate -to the sea. Even from the sea you can make out the white caps of the -Andes; but in the heats of Portate, you decline to believe that the -white is snow. - -Portate is the seaport of the country. There is a telegraph line running -inland to the capital. The monkeys do gymnastics on the wires, and the -natives steal sections of it to tie their roofs on with, on the theory -that the thing is plain foolishness, and the enterprise of fools is the -profit of the wise. Then you go around and lam the native and take the -wire, but he stays by his own opinion, and the Government wants to know -what you mean by allowing official messages to be interrupted; for, they -say, monkeys and roofs are not in the contract, and call it improper -frivolity to mention them: “Why tie on roofs with official messages? -Why improperly submit important business to the gymnastics of creatures -without intelligence?”--till you come out of it by swearing yourself -blood relation to all the monkeys on the Jiron, which seems as -satisfactory as anything, being put down to the inherited madness of the -Northerner. There are several varieties of monkeys on the Jiron. - -In the city of Portate there are wharves, which float off to sea in -freshets, and have to be pursued and brought back in disgrace. The -trolley line goes from the wharves to the Plaza, and then visiting -about town. The telephones and electric lights are the pride of the -enlightened, but the unenlightened think they are run by connection with -that pit of the sinful about which Padre Rafael is an authority. - -“For, observe! It is not as wood that it burns. _Madré de Dios_, no! It -is the wrath of the devil on the end of a stick.” - -The Union Electric had the contract for the whole outfit of the lights -and trolleys, and sent me down to handle it. I had good nerve then. I -thought electricity was king, and that a man could do anything he set -out to do. He can, but my nerve is not so good now. - -Now The Union Electric Company's contract was to furnish the city of -Portate so many arc lights, at so much a month per light, with monthly -payments, but there was more politics in it than I was used to. It took -me some time to see that if the Mayor bought a set of gilt furniture -on the 28th, and the paymaster a span of horses on the 29th, it wasn't -reasonable to bring them a city lighting bill on the 30th. But they -thought it unreasonable, and after awhile I came near thinking so too. -I had to get five signatures to each bill, and the signatures took turns -going off into the country between the 30th and the 15th. After that -they generally came with protests in parentheses, that arc No. 53 had -been observed by respected gentlemen to sputter improperly, and that -arc No. 5, on a certain night, had refused to burn, in contempt of -authority,--which was because a native had heaved a stone into it, out -of religious scruples. They were always in arrears. - -They liked it that way. They said it was delay in tax-collecting. It was -very warm. Did the Senor suffer from the heat? Alas! the tax collector -was too fat. It had been represented to his Excellency that tax -collectors should be thinner. They were thirty thousand dollars behind. -It seemed to me that the city of Portate was too happy. It didn't have -troubles enough. - -I went to see the Mayor, what they call the “Jefe Municipal.” - -He was a puffy old man, of about the fatness of the tax collector, but -smaller, and wore a white moustache and imperial in such a way that it -seemed to be his symbol of authority. - -I said, “Mayor, the city owes me thirty thousand dollars.” - -“Is it possible!” he cried, holding up his hands. “But we do pay you too -much. How does the city owe you so much if it is not too much?” - -That was good tropical logic. Tropical logic always confused me. - -“My friend,” he said, “is it not in your country also that the -corporation oppresses the people?” - -“The Union Electric,” I said, “doesn't do business for love of humanity, -and it didn't send me down here for my health.” - -“Alas! No?” sighed the Mayor, wiping his forehead. “The corporations -are without souls, pitiless. I read it in a newspaper, that also of -the United States. But if the Senor's health is delicate, a trip to the -hills---” - -“I give you till Wednesday night.” - -He brightened up. - -“It is a festival night. The municipal band will play in the Plaza. The -people will dance. Portate is a city of pleasure, a second Paris. And -you, Senor, will honour us, on the balcony of the magistrates.” - -“Thirty thousand dollars by Wednesday night, or I shut off the lights. -With great regret, your Excellency----” - -“Senor----” - -“It's an ultimatum. Allow me to express, nevertheless----” - -The Mayor rose, smiling. - -“Nevertheless, you will observe the festival. A delight, Senor, a -panorama!” - -I went over and tried to impress the paymaster, but he wouldn't be -impressed either. He said arc No. 38 was shining persistently into the -upper-story windows of the house of a municipal councillor, against his -honour and privacy. He said the son of the municipal councillor was -to marry his, the paymaster's daughter, and The Union Electric Company -oughtn't to disturb such alliances. I went down to the plant as fast -as possible, feeling in the mind to see people that were reasonable and -steady, like the six dynamos. - -Chepa was my foreman's name, and a good man he was--a half-breed of -fifty years perhaps, with gray hair about his ears. I told him I was -going to shut off the lights if they didn't pay up, and Chepa's hair -stood on end. He said I was a distinguished gentleman, and would be shot -for an anarchist together with himself. - -“Mother of heaven! It will be a hot time. Behold me! I am game!” - -I told him he wouldn't need any more heroism than came natural. I only -wanted him to switch off, and throw the machines out of gear at nine -o'clock Wednesday night, and then disappear for a day or two. - -“Don't let them lay eyes on a hair of you.” - -That was Saturday if my memory is right, the third of May. It came on -Wednesday without any more interviews. The day was hot, and I didn't -see that the tax collector was getting thinner with extra labour of -collecting taxes. But the preparations for the festival were going -on, so innocent and peaceful it would break your heart to see, with -ridiculous strips of coloured cloth around the wax-palms on the Plaza; -for a wax-palm grows a hundred and fifty feet high, and looks like a -high-born lady; and red and white stripes around the foot of her, like -a barber's pole, aren't becoming. I sent up a man with the bill in -the afternoon, and he came back saying the Mayor was so busy with his -uniform that he wouldn't look at him. I gave orders to shut off the -switch at nine o'clock. About eight in the evening I disguised myself -with a cloak and a villainous slouch hat, and left my house, which was a -mile out of the city, though handy to the plant. The cook had run off -to the Plaza, and I plugged up the telephone, so it was a house that -couldn't be conversed with. Then I walked into town. - -The Mayor's uniform and several other uniforms were on the balcony -of magistrates, the Mayor making a speech to the effect that it was -a municipality without parallel, a second Paris, which civilisation -regarded universally, and exclaimed, “Behold Portate!” There was Padre -Rafael, standing directly under an electric light, and it was curious to -see him with that kind of saint's glory around him, and smiling like a -plaster cast of Benevolence. Whoop-bang! went the brass band, with the -bass drum miscellaneous, and the cornets audacious, and the trombones -independent, but aiming, you might say, at a similar tune. And all the -Plaza fell to dancing and conversing, with the fountain in the middle -sprinkling recklessly, and the wax-palms done up in red and white -bunting, and the electric light shining uncannily, with their bills -unpaid. - -“Come up, Padre Rafael!” shouts the Mayor presently, catching sight -of his reverence, “to the balcony of the magistrates. It is a glorious -occasion.” He puffed out his chest so anybody could admire that liked. - -And then the lights went out, and the band ended off with a grunt and a -squeal. - -The Plaza was black as a hat, only for a few lights in the windows, and -quite silent for a moment. I lit out when the howls began. It seemed to -me they'd sound better from a distance. There were people running and -shouting along the pitch-black streets. But getting into the outskirts -of the city, I found there were a few stars shining, and came home -without trouble. I sat down on a bench in the garden and waited. It was -a hundred yards or more from the house. It was very peaceful, with all -manner of tropical scents floating around. Shutting down the lights of -Portate didn't seem to bother the rest of South America. - -By and by a carriage drove up, and there was a deal of banging at the -doors, and tramping around the house. I thought it was an under-official -that threw a rock through the window, not a real dignitary. Later there -was another carriage, more banging and tramping. - -I went to bed after that. I don't know how long they tried to telephone -from the City Hall--the telephone didn't say. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV--THE ARREST - - -|WHEN I awoke in the morning, the sunlight was shining brightly through -the shutters, and I lay awhile getting things straightened out in my -mind, wondering what the authorities would do next, and sorting my own -cards. Then I noticed a murmuring all about, not like a conversation of -a few people, but like the voices of a crowd at some distance. I took a -cautious peek. Oh, my native country! The yard was full of soldiers of -the City Guard in their pink uniforms, all squatting on the ground very -dejectedly. - -“Hi!” I thought. “There's no hurry about getting dressed. The cook must -have stayed shy, or they'd have got me.” - -I never saw that cook again. I've heard that he came on the soldiers -about three o'clock in the morning, camping in the front yard. Their -orders were to stay there till I came home. The cook went off into the -country to avoid politics. - -“Speaking of the cook now,” I said to myself, “they'll arrest me without -breakfast. They'll march me into town afoot, like a malefactor. It won't -do for the dignity of The Union Electric.” - -With that I wrapped myself and the telephone in double blankets, took -out the plug, and cautiously rang up a livery-stable. - -“Carriage!” I said, “to Senor Kirby's house, North Road, in an hour.” - -Then I prospected in the kitchen on tiptoe, and collected a spirit-lamp -and such matters, got dressed, and breakfasted behind the shutters -with a calmness that was a bit artificial. The City Guard wasn't -breakfasting. By the calamitous features of the elderly officer sitting -on my horse-block, they didn't expect to. El Capitano Lugo was his name, -and a very friendly man, after breakfast. - -I sat smoking behind the shutters, and waited for the carriage, which -came along leisurely about nine. The soldiery destroyed the picket-fence -getting into the road all together. - -“What news?” said El Capitano Lugo. - -The driver was a scared man. - -“Eh!” he said. “But I know nothing, Senor Capitano, nothing! Carriage to -Senor Kirby, North Road. A telephone.” - -“It is an empty house, idiot!” - -With that they were all crowded close about the carriage, talking in low -tones, but excited. It was about ghosts, as the captain told me after, -and there ran a theory among them that I had been a spirit for the last -twelve hours, turning off lights and sending telephones to avenge the -atrocity of my murder. - -But it got no farther than a theory, because of the opening of the door, -and me coming out on the porch in duck trousers, polka-dot tie, and a -calm that was artificial. - -“Is that my carriage?” I asked. - -“Ah!” shouted the captain, making for me, over the wrecks of the -picket-fence. I said: - -“How d'ye do?” - -“I arrest you!” said he. - -“Of course you do. Get into the carriage.” - -And off we went bowling toward the city, with the guard plodding far -behind in pink uniforms, and very dejected. Captain Lugo himself would -answer nothing when I tried to show him that pink uniforms were in bad -taste for a city guard. - -But, oh, the extravagance of language at the City Hall, and the Mayor -with his beautiful temper in ruins! - -“Intolerable! The contempt of dignity, the mockery of constituted power! -By whose orders were the lights turned off?” - -“Mine, your Excellency, of course. Told you all about it last Saturday.” - -“_Â la carcel!_” he shouted, with his official moustache standing up at -the ends. “He has despised the city. Take him to jail, hastily.” - -“You'd better look out,” I said. “It's an international complication. -The United States will be capturing Portate with an extension of the -Monroe Doctrine,” I said, fishing wildly for an argument. - -“Insolent foreigner!” said he. - -“May Portate be darkened forever!” said I. - -“_A la cârcel!_” said he, and four pink uniforms hustled me and my duck -trousers out into the street and around the corner to the jail. - -Now that was an unpleasing place to be in. I charged up fifty dollars -for the experience, to The Union Electric Company, who said it was a -good joke and paid it, eventually; but it wasn't a joke. - -The jail was an expanse of deal-wall on the street, except at one place -where there was an architectural doorway. And within there was a large -patio or courtyard, a low adobe building surrounding it, with rows -of open cells, and a sort of cemented veranda in front. That was the -Portate City Jail entire. There were guards at the door. They shoved you -in, and you did what you chose. There were groups of dirty peons lolling -about, others playing some game with pebbles and fragments of cement, -two women who had been officially interrupted while pounding each -other's heads, a donkey, some cats, and a sad-eyed pig, all arrested for -vagrancy. - -I sent a guard up to the hotel for a chair, and sat down haughtily in -the corner of the veranda behind the gateway and farthest from the sun. -The groups of peons gathered around me. Their manners were naturally -good, but they couldn't avoid the romantic fascination of me. I sent -another guard with a telegram to the United States Minister and a -message for the resident Consul. I gave the guard a dollar to buy -tobacco and cigarette papers, and compromised with the friendly peons. -We agreed on a circle twenty feet away, which was near enough for -conversation, and far enough for a draught between. There was a wall of -them, all supplied with cigarettes, and me the centre of observation. -We discussed the government of Portate, and there was no one in the City -Jail but thought it needed reform. - -By and by the Consul came, and he was so interested and pleased with the -situation that he wasn't up to the duties of his office, as I told him. -He said the Mayor was in luck, on account of the extreme heat up-country -at the capital. - -“My guess at the Mayor is: he's figuring to keep you in jail over night -for the sake of his dignity, and cover you with documentary apologies in -the morning,” said the Consul. “And I've been telegraphing the Minister, -and can't get him; for he's gone hunting up the cool of the mountains -with the President of the Republic, the Minister of the Interior, and -some other official parties. I say, why did you pick out a festival and -presidential excursion day? You bold, bad man! said he, sticking his -hands in his pockets and laughing at me. - -“Stay here all night!” I shouted. - -“Can't help it,” said the Consul, grinning. “I've done all I could. -He'll get into trouble likely. What can I do, if he wants to run his -risk and stand by his luck?” - -“I'll denounce you at home for inefficiency.” - -“Have a cot bed?” - -“Get out!” - -“Pleasant dreams!” he said. “It 'll be a hot night;” and with that he -went off grinning. - -The afternoon wore away slowly. I began to think the Mayor might have -me down after all, and wondered if Chepa would run the plant that night -with a detachment of pink soldiery over him. I sent a guard after some -lunch. No one else came except my lawyer, who brought some newspapers, -and said the Mayor was blushing all over with happiness and conceit. He -said there were crowds in the Plaza, and sure enough you could hear the -mutter and shuffle of them, for the Plaza was but a few blocks away. -It seemed to me they were making more noise than before, and when the -lawyer was gone, and the afternoon was late, it seemed to have grown to -a kind of dull roaring, with shouts and howls intermixed. The peons in -the patio were stirring about, too, and jabbering. The dusk was coming -on faintly. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV--MRS. ULSWATER'S INSURRECTION - - -|THERE was a clatter and tramp of feet in the street outside. The door -of the patio flew open with a bang. - -“Take your dirty hands off me!” Bang, went the door again, and there in -the patio stood a little squat Irishman with red hair and stubby black -clay pipe in his mouth. - -“What's the matter?” I called to him, for his hair was rumpled and -his coat torn, with rough handling. He ran to me, and the crowd, the -simple-hearted criminality of Portate, gathered around us. - -“Hoosh!” he said. “It's an insurrection, sor. I'm arristed for -distributin' insidjus proclamations in backwoods Casthilian, an' the -guards has taken me last copy, tellin' how The Mayor has Tyrannously -Arristed the Electric Lights! Release Misther Kirby or Down wid the -Mayor! Shall Portate be Darkened? Citizens, Rise!' Oh, hivens, me -entherprise and adventures!” - -“Comb down your red hair,” I said, “and go on.” - -“It's auburrn, sor!” - -“It's fine shade of gold, you Hibernian Apollo! Who in time are you?” - -“I come in yesterday evenin' on the _Violetta_” - -“What!” - -“Yes, sor. Me name's Hagan, but Sadler's gone away from me, an' I have -the trimbles in me bones.” - -“Well, I'll be shot! Are they all right?” - -“Sure, they are.” - -“Go ahead then.” - -“Well, sor, me an' Sadler an' the docther, we got ashore as soon as we -could. 'Twas in the early evenin', an' thim two went off somewhere -for somewhat; and me, I went down Bolivar Street to an old haunt of me -mimories, to see what was there. An' who should come out of the caffy -but Chepa. Sure, he's your foreman now, but onct he was me frind an' -dispised acquaintance in this city of sinfulness many a year ago. 'Red -hair!' says he wid a shriek. 'Auburrn!' says I, 'ye grizzly Dago.' -An' wid that we ombraced. 'Och, Jimmie!' he says, 'you're the man I'm -wantin',' he says. 'Where's Sadler?' 'I dunno,' I says, 'not just now. -He's around the town.' 'Tis happy he'll be then this night,' he says, -'for society an' politics,' he says, 'an' populations an' powers 'll be -playin' discordant chunes,' he says. 'Come on,' he says, 'an' help me -ungear thim dynamos.' Wid that we started for the plant, an' me not -knowin' at all the divilmint that was goin', an' we come to the plant, -and Chepa set the dynamos buzzin' like bees, an' thin sat down an' -explained his language wid information. 'At nine o'clock,' he says, 'I -shut 'em off and disables the machinery,' an' he did. Then we come back -through the town by the back streets. There was wicked rage in the heart -of Portate. She wint to bed in the dark, and had bad dreams. But we -come down to the docks an' hired a boat out to the _Violetta_, and we -told the missus and the young la-ady about it. After awhile comes out -the boys in the gig wid a letther from the docther sayin' him an' Sadler -was gone up counthry on a night thrain in pursuit of South-American -archylogy. 'Kit,' says the missus, readin' it out to the young la-ady, -'Kit seems to have this city in a barrel, an' he's plugged the shpigot, -an' where in the barrel he is I dunno,' he says, 'for we've been to the -electric plant and we've banged on the doorway of his house, an' nothin' -happened, an' Portate is tumultuous and dark. Wherefore,' he says, 'I -argue he ain't expectin' company to-night, an' me an' Sadler is goin' up -counthry afther archylogy,' he says, 'to be back to-morry.' 'Goodness!' -says the missis, an' she an' the young la-ady went down for the night, -an' me an' Chepa passed it cool an' balmy. This mornin' the missis -sent us ashore for news. But oh, the sights of the ragin' city! Oh, the -throuble an' combustion of it! A crowd of men grabs us at the corner. -'Gintlemen,' says Chepa, 'respected sehores, 'tis the wickedness of the -Jefe,' he says, 'a-spindin' on gilt furniture the hard-earned taxes of -the people, collected by the tax collector,' he says, 'wid the shweat of -his fatness. For Sehor Kirby,' he says, 'to the great sorrow of himself, -havin' run out of electricity, is unable to buy more on account of the -avarice and theft of the beast of a thief of a Jefe,' he says, and they -thought so too. By and by comes the news of yourself arristed and put in -jail. 'Jimmie,' says Chepa, 'it will not do.' I says 'It will not.' An' -we broke away an' went back to the _Violetta_. An very interested they -were, sor, the missis an' the young la-ady, askin' questions, an' then -a-studyin' an' a-lookin' at ache other. 'Well,' says the missis, 'I -wish Doctor Ulswater hadn't gone, but it's the Jefe's fault an' not Mr. -Kirby's, an' I think you were quite right, Mr. Chepa,' she says, 'to -tell the people so. But of coorse you could only tell a few,' she says, -'an' I suppose most of thim think it's Mr. Kirby's to blame, an' I think -we ought to stop that,' she says, 'so I think we'd bet-ther have a lot -of bills printed to explain.'--'Hooroar!' says the young la-ady, jumpin' -up and wavin' herself in the atmosphere. 'I'll write it!' An' wid that -she grabs Chepa an' plumps down wid him on the carpet, an' what wid thim -two composin' inflaminous proclamations, an' me a shmokin' me poipe wid -terror in me bosim an' me face smeared over wid insidjous calm, an' -the missis a lookin' off at Portate, wid her knittin' in her hand and -statesmanship an' revolution in her eye, 'twas a ould-shtyle Fenian -meetin', sor, an' down wid the landlords! 'It's hot,' says Chepa, manin' -the proclamation. 'There's no foreign governmint to rescue Chepa wid -diplomacy. They'll hang me,' he says, 'an' 'tis no matther. Behold me, -senora! I am game.' 'You must stay here,' says the missis. 'Jimmie will -have the bills printed and posted.' 'Oh, senora!' says Chepa, lookin' -hurt. 'Of coorse you're not afraid,' she says--an' I wished she knew -that I was--'but it'd be bad for you to be arristed,' she says, 'an' -besides there's another reason.' It lies in the nature of things, sor, -to do what the missis says. There's no help for it. I came into Portate -alone, wid myself, an' gold in me trousers pocket which I changes to the -barbarious paper money of the counthry an' scuttles off to a printer. -'Set it up!' I says, showin' barbarious money. 'Print it!' An' he did -so, wid the fear of consequences an' the lust of avarice. But, sor, -ye should have seen the amazin' innocence an' wrath of the populace, -a-jumpin' all over the Plaza, a-howlin', a-wavin' proclamations an' -blackguardin' the Mayor for arristin' the lights. Prisintly comes a line -of soldiers wrigglin' through the crowd, an' one of 'em raps me over the -head with the butt of his gun, out of the mistherable shpite of him, an' -they takes me red-handed in the disthribution of proclamations, an' up -we goes, up the steps of the City Hall, before the public was onto the -insult to its liberties. An' oh, the terrible language of the Mayor, -a-kickin' over chairs in the corridor! 'To prisin,' says he, tearin' -his hair tremendjous. 'Ye'll be shot in the mornin',' says he. Then they -took me out the back alley, an' down here sudden, bein' punched in the -back wid the butt ends of the rifles of a misfit soldiery, an' thim's -the facts.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI--THE TRUCE - - -|SO spoke Jimmie Hagan. We sat looking at each other, and smoking -silently for a moment. I got up and shooed the motley collection of -human things around us back to a pleasanter distance, and sat down again -to think. But still I didn't see altogether what Mrs. Ulswater thought -she was going to do with her insurrection. It was a good idea of hers -to keep Chepa aboard the _Violetta_. But a mob is like dynamite, and a -person ought to have a considerable idea before he takes it on himself -to explode one. A Portate mob is a maniac that cuts throats in the name -of the saints, and forgets what started him, and he scatters destruction -in all directions. For a man said to be without sand, I thought Hagan -had done pretty well. - -“Sor,” he said, “it's this way. I knew the Mayor long ago, an' Sadler -knew him well, an' I know the Mayor's the same man wid the tempestchus -bowels of him, for he's a nice man when he's cheerful, but he's not a -wise man when there's trouble comin'. Well, sor, Sadler nor the docther -ain't here, an' what one of them doesn't know the other does. An' some -men was born to order and others to take orders, an' I dunno. But, if -the Kid was here things'd be doin'. Well, sor, the docther is filled -up wid handy knowledge more'n a bushel of pertaties wid perta-ties, -but when it comes to makin' up his mind, it's the missis does it. -The _Violetta_ carries more contagious brains than's native in South -America, an' you're askin' what the missis had in mind, an' I dunno. -But Chepa says there's only two men in Por-tate can start them disabled -machines for to-night's lightin', to say nothin' there's not a trolley -runnin' in the city this day. An' where's those two men? One of 'em's -here. The other's on the _Violetta_, but the Mayor don't know where he -is. Well, sor, what can he do? It's not for me to say, but there's -the populace shlingin' stones at the City Hall this blissid minute -in persuasion of the Mayor's wickedness. An' who persuaded 'em of the -Mayor's wickedness? Trolleys they don't so much care for, but there'll -be lights or shootin', an' the Mayor'd needn't be foolish, an if ye ask -me, I'll say it's the missis has got the soople intilligence, an' no -throuble at all. Hark to 'em now!” - -The roar of the crowd had grown to be tremendous, and they were probably -throwing stones. What, indeed, could the Mayor do? The peons about -us were chattering in excited groups, and the guards at the gate were -distinctly uneasy. If the mob came there, I could make a fair guess what -the guards would do. - -There was a sudden clatter in the streets, of hoofs and wheels on bad -pavement. Again the great wooden door flew open with a bang. Entered the -paymaster, another agitated official, and an officer in pink and white, -who bowed and smiled at me affectionately. - -“You are released, senor,” said the officer. - -“Oh, I am! And this gentleman too?” - -“Impossible, senor. His Excellency is determined. With you, senor, he -requests a friendly interview.” - -“He won't get it.” - -“His Excellency is in a carriage at the door.” - -It was not fifty feet to the open door. His Excellency seemed to have -lost flesh with the excitement and anguish of his mind. - -“Oo-aa!” came over from the Plaza, that indescribable roar. - -“Oh, senor!” he cried with enthusiasm. “It is the will of the people -that we be reconciled. Enough. We are reconciled.” - -“Not yet, Mayor. My red-haired friend here----” - -“Impossible!” - -“Not a light, then. Bury it all, Mayor. The wisest plan.” - -“But the proclamations! Abominable, public, infamous!” - -“Oh, quite wrong, of course.” - -“You admit it!” - -“He must be pardoned.” - -“To-morrow.” - -“Now!” - -“Oo-aa!” from the Plaza, that hair-raising yell. - -The Mayor shivered. Then he gathered up his dignity with the -gracefulness of a lady picking up her skirts, and finished the game like -a fallen but romantic potentate. “Enough,” he said. “I yield.” - -We drove to the Plaza, Jimmie Hagan on the carriage-springs behind, the -Mayor and I standing on the seat and holding hands for the public to see -the unlimited affection we had; the paymaster and the officer in pink -and white on the seat facing, waving their hats with unnatural joy, and -the other official on the seat with the driver. - -But what a sight was the Plaza! What a howling mass of faces, open -mouths, hands gesticulating, all fading and dimly seen at a few hundred -feet from the carriage, for the night was falling fast. - -“Excellency,” I said, “you owe me thirty thousand dollars. We'll stop at -the bank.” - -“Just at present, senor, the public's balance is low, but----” - -“On the contrary--or rather, we'll step in and see.” - -“To-morrow, senor----” - -“Excellency,” I said, “I don't care one little bit at all whether it's -out of the city's deposit, or your private account, or whether there's -any difference between them. But there won't be a light till every -dollar is paid. Moreover, this mob is nervous. Moreover, here's the -bank.” - -We got down, and left the pink and white officer in the carriage with -the two other officials. The Mayor stalked grimly ahead of me into the -bank, and the thirty thousand was paid. - -I made the plant in a carriage in ten minutes. Three scared furnace -tenders were there, in charge of a company of pink soldiers. Among them -they had two dynamos more or less mutilated trying to switch them -on with a pick-axe. At last I got things running, turned on the main -switch, and saw the nearby streets leap into brightness. - -When Hagan and I came back through the town about eight o'clock, the -band was playing in the Plaza, the people rejoicing among the palm -trees, which were done up in bunting, and the Mayor was making a speech -from the balcony of magistrates to the effect that Portate was a centre -of civilisation, a second Paris. - -It occurred to me that I was carrying thirty thousand dollars in my -pocket, and wasn't a steel vault. The lights were going anyway for -to-night, and maybe some public functionary's private bandit might be -looking for me. I ought to have deposited before going to the plant, or -perhaps--but there was the _Violetta_, which would be safer still. - -We dodged the Plaza, and went down to the docks. Not a boatman -was about. I untied a row boat, and we rowed out, looking for the -_Violetta_. It was easy to distinguish her, clean and white, glimmering -with bright port-holes. As we drew near we could see the polished -brasses shining under the stars. The cool sea wind on the bay and the -soft lapping of waves against the boat were pleasant to feel and hear, -after the heat and noise of Portate. The sight of the _Violetta_, neat -and compact, made me homesick for the temperate zone and my own people -of the North, gray-eyed level-headed people, steady and reasonable. I -felt like a carrier pigeon come home. - -“_Violetta_, ahoy!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII--ON BOARD THE VIOLETTA - - -|CAPTAIN JANSEN met us at the gangway. There were some changes in the -look of the _Violetta_'s deck since last I had seen it, a year and a -half before, in the West Indies. The awning was new. Those geranium pots -were gone, which used to stand along the scuppers, and be carried down -every night and whenever the weather threatened. The world had been too -much for them. The same doilies were on the same rocking chairs. There -was the brown mahogany parlour table. But among objects that recalled -home conventions, something that breathed eastward, a tropic touch here -and there, had been admitted. A huge Burmese tapestry swung from one -side of the awning, and the breeze bayed it in, its green embroidered -serpents writhing lazily above an honest but uninspiring sofa from Grand -Rapids. Yellow Chinese mats from Singapore were on the deck in place of -the former flowered carpet. - -Mrs. Ulswater sat in her familiar rocking chair, small, thin, quiet, -and slightly precise; and on one of the mats, with her back against Mrs. -Ulswater's chair, sat a girl in a white dress, with dark hair, with very -definite eyebrows and a tilted, provocative nose. In front of her, on -another mat, sat Chepa smoking a cigarette. At some distance off, a -motionless figure in dingy white crouched in the shadow of the cabin, -whom I took to be Ram Nad engaged in abstraction. These were the -occupants of the after-deck. - -“Kit!” cried Mrs. Ulswater, dropping her knitting. Susannah sprang up -and cried: “Did we beat the Mayor?” - -I told them about the insurrection, Jimmie Hagan's arrest, and the -Mayor's surrender, and how I wanted Dr. Ulswater to take charge of The -Union Electric's cash. - -“I'm ever so much obliged for your insurrection, Mrs. Ulswater. As to -the Mayor--well, you've been around the world yourself since I saw you, -and got acquainted with the Gentile. What do you think of him?” - -“Whom do you mean by the Gentile?” - -“The alien, the uncanny human who isn't like us. His 'best is like his -worst,' isn't it? in our eyes, because both his best and his worst are -different from ours.” - -“I like him better than I expected to,” she answered. - -“Are you going to keep on rearranging him?” - -“I'm not so sure as I was what his arrangement is.” - -“But the cruise of the _Violetta_ has been a success, hasn't it?” - -After a moment's thought she said: - -“When it began, I didn't know what I wanted, but I thought I should know -it when I saw it. And that was the way it turned out. I found out what -it was, when I found it. The doctor and Susannah are most of it.” - -“It wasn't the missions, then?” - -“Not exactly. It's partly finding things to do, and doing them as they -come along.” After a pause she said, as if changing the subject: - -“Do you think you can get on with the Mayor here, after all this?” - -“Why, that's the question. The Mayor has his virtues, but he doesn't -like insurrections or paying bills. If Providence didn't afflict him -with one or the other of those now and then, he might be a philosopher; -but now you speak of it, I shouldn't say he was a good loser. It's one -of the characteristics of the tropics, to carry grudges long and far.” - -Susannah was looking at me gravely. - -“Do you make poetry?” she asked. - -“Not in the way of business,” I said, still thinking of my troubles. -“It's Portate that introduces poetry into business. If I propose to the -Mayor to put in five hundred new lights, he proposes a procession. If I -tell him I'm going to repaint some of the trolley cars, he announces -it that night to the populace from the balcony of magistrates, and the -populace comes and asks me for a free ride, and The Union Electric's -employés claim it's a holiday. You see, Miss Romney----” - -“Why, I'm Susannah?” - -“Oh! Well, Susannah--You see, Susannah, Portate furnishes all the poetry -The Union Electric Company will stand. They can't afford to let me -decorate the situation too. That's why I have some doubts about the -ultimatum and the insurrection. They were rather decorative, weren't -they?” - -“I'm going to make poetry about you,” said Susannah. - -She got up and walked away across the deck, in the manner of one -conducting powerful operations with the muses. She came to where the -dingy heap of eastern wisdom sat against the cabin wall. - -“Ram Nad!” we heard her say, with a stamp of the foot, “you go this -minute and get your shawl!” - -He rose silently, pale and venerable, and went down the companionway. - -“He catches cold easily,” Mrs. Ulswater explained. “I told him not to -sit out evenings without his shawl.” - -Chepa and Hagan had gone forward sometime before. Susannah paced the -deck apart with folded arms, making poetry about me. Mrs. Ulswater sat -in her rocking chair, knitting, listening, talking. - -I was thinking that she would have been a dangerous woman, with all that -will and reserve, if she had not happened to be honest and kind. She -could not help but foresee and devise. I wondered if she were plotting -and planning at the moment, and for whose benefit. Likely it was for -mine. I wondered if the Mayor were plotting and planning for my distress -or destruction at the same moment. Likely he was. I didn't much care. -Mrs. Ulswater had rearranged the tropics here and there, but they -had not rearranged her. It was about eleven o'clock. Susannah was -extraordinarily pretty. As the subject of a ballad by Susannah, of a -plot by Mrs. Ulswater, and another plot by the Mayor, supposing all -these things were going on, I seemed to be in the centre of things. - -At that moment the sound of oarlocks startled us. We rose and went to -the rail. A boat drew near on the dark water. On the surface of the -water the lights of the distant city made long broken reflections. -The boat drew up at the foot of the gangway, and Dr. Ulswater mounted, -followed by a large powerful man, gray-haired, with a long dangling -moustache and lean throat, carrying on his broad shoulders a large -oblong box. Behind them came up one of the boatman, carrying a trunk. -Susannah cried: - -“What's in the box?” - -And I said, catching sight of my initials, “Where'd you get my trunk?” - -“Jansen,” said Dr. Ulswater, “get up steam. We leave as soon as you're -ready.” A moment later we were seated under the awning; Mrs. Ulswater -in her rocking chair knitting and nowise excited; Susannah, her hands -clasped about her knees, back against the rocker, eagerly absorbing all -things; the doctor, the grizzled Sadler and I, each negotiating one -of the doctor's cigars. Chepa, with his cigarette, and Hagan, with his -black clay pipe and extravagant hair, squatted together on the deck. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII--HANNAH ATKINS - - -|WE sought you at your house, Kit,” said Dr. Ulswater; “we sought you -also at the establishment where you generate that mystical fluid which -now travels meekly, invisibly, its slender wires, and now spits like a -red-hot cat. You electrical engineers have your fingers on the pulse of -the universe. I admire in you the representatives of the age. - -“The condition of affairs in Portate was most mixed and unclassified. -No light anywhere, except here and there a smoky lantern, and such -sulphurous beams as the eye of imagination might detect, or conceive, -gleaming from the bosoms of some thousands of furious citizens. We -reached the railway station with the feeling of having been miraculously -rescued. The town, however, was quieting down. Most of the citizens -had gone home to plot your assassination. Your ultimatum seemed to be -everywhere known. Evidently you were not meaning to be found that -night by friend or foe, and therefore Sadler and I went our way in the -interests of archæology. - -“There is a national museum at the capital of this country, which -contains an extraordinary collection of Inca relics, but is as -disorderly as Portate emotions. Thither we went by the slowest train the -ingenuity of man ever invented, getting what sleep we could, through the -night, upon car seats of mistaken construction, each one of which was a -populous commonwealth of bugs. - -“Arrived at our destination in the morning, I found my way to the -Museum, and presently was buried from the world, lost to the present. -It must have been near noon when Sadler came and found me surrounded by -pottery, weapons, tools, and the swathed bundles of the mummied dead. - -“'Doctor,' he said; 'when's your birthday?' - -“I reflected. - -“'Bless my soul, it's to-morrow! This thing's got to stop! I'll be older -than an Inca!' - -“'You're a swaddled infant,' he said. I thought Mrs. Ulswater said it -was to-morrow. I've got a present for you.' - -“Birthdays, indeed! What had I to do with birthdays, who was reborn into -eternity on the day I married Mrs. Ulswater! I had no use for them. -I wished some one would make me a present of the treasures of that -mixed-up and ruinous museum, and rescue them for archaeology. Carvings! -Do you happen to know that the Inca signs of the Zodiac are practically -identical with the Egyptian, that, moreover, they probably antedate -them, that----” - -“No, we don't,” interrupted Sadler. “It ain't so.” - -“I can prove it to any man with eyes,” shouted Dr. Ulswater, thumping -his knee. - -“Which I holds myself,” said Sadler, gloomily, “that any man, with eyes, -can see as them signs of the Zodiac all comes from the jim-jams, and the -first man that made 'em was the first man that had drunk not wisely but -too often.” - -“Ha!” said Dr. Ulswater. “Why! Now, that's an idea! It really is!” - -“Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “What was the present, and what -about it?” - -Susannah said, “What's in the box?” and I, - -“What are you doing with my trunk?” - -Dr. Ulswater wanted to stop there and discuss the origins of the -signs of the Zodiac, and the orderly narrative was getting into a bad -condition, but Sadler took it up. - -“Well, it was this way, ma'am,” he said. “I left the doctor at the -Museum. Them mummies didn't look to me respectable, but maybe they are, -only as you told me to look after the doctor, I didn't know as I'd ought -to leave him in that there dissipated society. But I went off down the -street, and by and by I see a man I knew, named Sanchez Beteta. He used -to be a graceless young one, son of a poverty-stricken caballero who -lived on Valencia Street in Portate. Beteta was walking stately and -soft, and he had on patent-leather shoes that was pointed like pins, -and he had a cane that was an airy vision, and a buttonhole bouquet, and -fixings, and side whiskers, and clothes that was beautiful to make a bad -egg remember its young dreams, and he come along like his garments was -angels' wings. I says to myself: 'I want to be like that'; and I pokes -him in the chest sudden and solid, and I says, sort of ingratiating: - -“'Where'd you steal them clothes?' I says in West Coast Spanish. He -looked me over with a haughty eye. Then he says: - -“'If you're a ghost,' he says, 'I wished you'd fade away. How and why do -you exist, aged one?' and I says: - -“'Get me a bouquet and a cane. I want some vanity.' - -“Then we went and got them vanities, and paraded in glory on the -fashionable highway that's called 'The Paseo,' and he told me the origin -of his clothes. They came from his being in the Government, a sort -of Subcommissioner of National Monuments and Memorials, and from that -position's having some pickings of drumsticks while his superiors was -busy with other parts of the chicken. I told him how I'd come there, and -how electricity had played it dark on Portate, and how Dr. Ulswater was -at the Museum sorting out knowledge and wishing he had an Inca mummy for -home consumption. Beteta knew about Portate. It was in the morning paper -that's called 'El Patria.' Then he took to thinking. - -“'Would the learned senor,' he says, 'pay a price for a royal mummy? He -is, you say, of great wealth.' - -“I says: 'Why?' - -“'Because,' he says, 'I may have such an article to dispose of.' - -“'Which,' I says, 'is a fraud. It's made of mashed paper and it ain't -got no pedigree.' - -“'Not at all,' he says, 'not at all! I scorn you. Could I, who am but an -amateur, deceive one learned as your friend? It was in this way, simply. -Some years ago an ancient tomb was opened and found to contain mummies -of the family of the Inca, Huayna Capac. Of him you know nothing at -all, but your friend does, and without doubt he knows that most of that -family died during, or after, the Conquest. Without doubt he knows -of the tomb I speak of and its discovery. It was described in the -publications of science. Now the Museum is in my Department of Monuments -and Memorials, and somewhat under my charge, because of my great -interest in my country's antiquities. Also because of this interest I -was allowed to acquire one of these relics for my private collection. -But alas! I am unfortunate! Integrity and poverty go together. It rends -my heart. I fear I had better dispose of my treasure. You will ask, -“Why not to the Museum?” Again, alas! Evil tongues would whisper. I, an -official of the Department, sell to the Department! My own conscience, -too delicate, would shrink. But you are hardened, of an evil mind, a -cynic. You don't understand the scruples.' - -“'Sure,' I says, 'I do. Remorse and me are bosom friends. Come see the -doctor.' - -“'At present,' he says, 'I have an important engagement. Bring him to my -house at three this afternoon. Number 20, Street of the Museum.' - -“I went after the doctor then, and asked him would he have a birthday -present, and what was the market price of royal mummies of the family -of Hannah Atkins. 'Who?' says he, and I tried it again. 'Oh!' he says, -'Huayna Capac!' - -“'The same,' I says. He stated a likely price, which stumped me some, -for Beteta had only asked about a third of that for his mummy, and I -didn't see Beteta's game. I judged he must be an ignorant amateur on -mummies. - -“We went to lunch, and about three o'clock we come round to Beteta's -house. It stood side up to the side of the Museum, with a little paved -court, or patio, between. You had to go into the patio to get into -Beteta's house, and there was a small door in the Museum that opened -on the patio too. Beteta let us in and showed his mummy in a box on a -table, and it was that roped and done up in coloured cloth you could -tell it from any sort of bundle, only there was a copper placard on it, -which appeared to be antique. - -“'It has been in the Museum for some days past,' says Beteta, 'because -of comparisons I desired to make with the other plates.' - -“'Ah!' says the doctor. - -“'I regret that an important engagement now hurries me,' says Beteta. -'My house is yours, but if you go back to Portate to-day, the train -leaves in two hours.' - -“'Oh!' says the doctor. 'To be sure, we must go back.' - -“'So regrettable! But, without doubt,' says Beteta, 'you will return. -My house is yours. For me, but an amateur, to make acquaintance of -a learned archaeologist, how grateful! You find here materials for -packing. My house is yours. Adios, senores. The public servant is not -master of his time. Adios, senores. My house is yours.' - -“Then he took his cash and left us, we feeling sort of surprised. - -“'What's your expert opinion?' says I. - -“'Why,' says the doctor, putting on his glasses again and looking wise, -I think you and your intimate friend belong to the genus gammon, species -humbug; but his mummy is all right.' - -“'If it's a sure Hannah Atkins, that's what I'm asking,' I says. 'I -guess Beteta ain't even an amateur on mummies, and he's skeered of -conversation with you. I guess you're right there.' - -“We packed Hannah Atkins, and toward five o'clock I shouldered the box. -Some populace saw us come from the patio and followed us to the station, -wondering what a caballero, with a cane and a buttonhole bouquet, and a -box four foot long on his shoulder, and a amiable large party in a white -vest behind him, was doing with that there combination of circumstances. -So we caught the train and started for Portate. There was another man I -used to know on the train. He was a Scotch engineer in the employ of The -Transport Company and named Jamison.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX--MR. JAMISON - - -|SADLER paused. I knew Jamison too. - -“What was Jamison coming to Por-tate for?” I asked. “Did he say?” - -“He did,” said Sadler. “His conversation was meaty. I'm makin' a -dramatic pause.” - -Then he paused some more. - -“I don't think much of that birthday present!” said Susannah, -scornfully. - -“Then I'll expand your imagination, Susannah,” said Dr. Ulswater. -“Huayna Capac was the great Inca who died in 1527, the year Pizarro -landed. Three of his sons contended for the throne, Huascar, Atahualpa -and Manco, but how many other children he left is nowhere stated, to my -knowledge. The marital system of the royal house, however, being such as -it was, it is probable they were numerous. The mummies discovered some -four years ago were five in number, each with a copper plate sewn to the -cerements, and inscribed, ostensibly by one Padre Geronimo Valdez. Each -of the inscriptions states that the enclosed person was a daughter -of Huayna Capac, who had been baptised and buried by himself, Padre -Geronimo. The date given on this plate is 1543. We have yonder then, in -all probability, all that remains of a daughter of the Incas.” - -“It isn't expanded at all,” said Susannah, meaning her imagination. - -“What was her name?” asked Mrs. Ulswater. - -“Curiously,” said Dr. Ulswater, “the inscription doesn't state.” - -“Her name's Hannah Atkins,” said Sadler. - -“Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “What happened next?” - -Dr. Ulswater continued the narrative. “Mr. Jamison was a Scotch person, -with dusty eyebrows and considerate eyes, his speech compact of caution -and a burr. Sadler told him of our acquisition and inquired about the -man Beteta. - -“'Because,' I added, 'if the gentleman is no amateur of mummies, why -should he have a mummy in his possession? And if he hadn't any,--if, in -fact, he stole it from the Museum,--why should he risk so much for the -no great sum the mummy is worth, in fact, for the yet smaller sum which -he received? It seems more probable that in some way it must have been -his.' - -“'I hae doots of it,' said Jamison, drily. - -“'Does he know anything of archaeology?' - -“'I hae doots of it.' - -“'Did he steal it, then?' - -“'I hae doots it was something resembling that, though maybe no -precisely.' - -“'For that absurdly small compensation?' “'I hae doots about the size of -it.' - -“'What for, then?' - -“'I hae doots ye'll find some pink military at Portate that'll maybe -explain.' - -“Sadler here burst into spacious laughter. - -“'We're speeding to our doom, doctor,' he said. 'Ho, ho!' - -“'I hae doots, said Jamison, 'he may have it,' said Jamison. - -“'But,' I said, 'that doesn't explain Beteta.' - -“'I hae doots,' said Jamison, 'he may have an understanding with his -Department.' - -“'Why,' I said, 'you grow in mystery, Mr. Jamison. You cover the land -with darkness. If the sum he received was too small to explain him by -himself, it is surely too small to explain an arrangement implying a -distribution. Ha!' I exclaimed. Let me consider.' - -“'Right you are, doctor,' said Sadler. 'You have the idea now. He wan't -anywhere round when we left.' - -“Certainly, on consideration it seemed to me, that if we were accused -of ourselves extracting her whom Sadler insists on calling Hannah -Atkins--feloniously from the Museum, we would have some difficulty in -proving the culprit to have been Beteta. - -“'Beteta,' said Jamison, slowly, after a pause, 'has some sma' -penetration. Without knowing much about archaeology, he might consider -that a gentleman with a steam yacht is maybe a man of some substance, -that might pay a bit more for immunity than for a mummy. For the -interests of the Museum, he might consider it proper to attract a -strategic contribution from a foreigner. I hae doots the appropriations -for the Department of Public Monuments and Memorials don't support its -offeecials to their satisfaction. He might arrange the circumstances -so that the circumstances would be suffeecient. He might so put it -to persons who might be suffeeciently authoritative to make it -suffeeciently safe. They might send an authoritative despatch to the -Mayor of Portate. I have a bit of information the facts are no so far -from that supposition. No that I'd care to be an authority for the -statement.' - -“'He's an infernal scoundrel!' I exclaimed. - -“'It may be so,' said Jamison, 'but he has some sma' penetration. It's -my recollection too that our friend Sadler was in no verra good odour -with the authorities when he left some years ago. Folk said he ran away -a wee bit surrepteetiously, or maybe he'd deny that.' - -“Sadler again roared with laughter. - -“'I hae doots Beteta has the penetration to remember that too,' said -Jamison. - -“'However,' I said. 'Kirby will see us through. - -“'Aye! Kirby? Is he a friend of yours?' - -“I told him of my old friendship with Kit. - -“'Oo! Is it so? But I hae doots Kirby has troubles of his own. I hae -doots it would be better to keep the two troubles apart.' - -“Here Sadler got up suddenly from his seat, asking of Jamison: - -“'Say, does Steve Dorcas live where he used to?' - -“'Aye,' said Jamison. 'He does.' - -“'Well,' said Sadler, 'it's this way, doctor. Seeing I got you into it, -I guess it's mine to get you out,' and he left the car. I asked who was -Dorcas. - -“'Oo--he's superintendent of The Transport Company,' said Jamison, -'but I doot if Sadler will be able to find him the night. His house is -outside of Portate a bit. We pass it on the railroad.' - -“He paused and looked thoughtfully through the window. The night was -falling. A desolate country indeed, a sandy and rocky desert, is this -coastland, for the most part. I was reflecting that, if Sadler had a -plan, I might as well take what comfort was passing, whatever meat of -conversation on several subjects this shrewd Scotchman might afford. I -started on the subject of South-American archaeology, but Jamison did -not respond. His mind seemed to be elsewhere. At last he said: - -“'Ye'll maybe make a reasonable compromise, if Dorcas is with you, and I -hae no great doots but he will be, for he was friendly with Sadler once. -And leaving that, I'll no deny I'm going down to Portate myself on a -soommons from Dorcas, but it's no aboot you and your mummy. It's to take -charge of The Union Electric's plant. Whereby, as you're a man, I see, -of no sma' penetration yourself, doctor, ye'll be seeing it's likely -Kirby's no expected to be in a poseetion to run the plant to-morrow -night.' “'It seems to follow, Mr. Jamison,' I said, 'that the Mayor -means to arrest him tomorrow.' - -“He nodded. - -“I hae some information he did so this morning, but I opine the Mayor -will be letting him out this night to run the plant, or Portate will be -dark again.' - -“'On account,' I questioned, 'of there being no train that would get you -to Por-tate before ten?' - -“'Your penetration is no sma' matter, doctor,' he said. 'It's working -well.' - -“'It's a wild thing, Mr. Jamison,' I continued, after some thought, 'a -frivolous intelligence, a restless and turbulent member. Its mad quest -after information is always making me trouble. It wants to know now -how you and the Superintendent of The Transport Company happen to be so -willing, not to say eager, to get into collusion with these corrupt and -debt-dodging municipal thieves in Portate, and thereby to spoil Kirby's -most enlivening and pleasant stratagem for collecting a just debt. -It wants to know whether Kirby's being in jail is any personal -gratification to either of you gentlemen.' - -“He broke into a dry but not unkindly laugh. - -“'No personal, doctor. Kirby is a good man. Oo--a wee bit hasty and -cocksure, but he's only a lad. But your penetration is doing well. I'm -thinking it might better go on.' - -“'On your suggestion, it will,' I assented. 'The Transport Company and -The Union Electric are rivals presumably. Presumably, then, the former -has no objection to winning favour with the authorities at the expense -of the latter. Waiving the question of fairness or morality----' - -“'Aye, better waive 'em,' said Jamison, drily. - -“'Waiving them entirely,' I said, 'The Transport Company seems to be in -line with prosperity at the present moment.' - -“Here Sadler came back in the car. - -“'Engineers and conductors are easy on this road,' he said. 'One dollar -apiece. We'll pull up where the road crosses to Dorcas' place, and -disappoint that there pink military.' - -“'Verra good,' said Jamison, nodding kindly. 'I'll go with ye, and I'm -thinking we'll be there in a few moments now.' Presently the train -slowed down and stopped. Sadler shouldered Hannah Atkins, and we got -out. The train went on its way. The glimmer of the not distant city -showed that the electric plant was working. To the left some distance -stood a large house among trees, and to it a road ran from the railway -crossing. It stood near the bank of the river, a yellow, stuccoed house -with a patio. A man who met us at the door exclaimed: - -“'What, Jamison! What, what! Why, why! Sadler! Come in, come in. What's -that box? How d'ye do? Have a cigar! Have a drink. Good Lord!' - -“He was introduced to me as 'Steve Dorcas.'” - - - - -CHAPTER XXX--MR. DORCAS - - -|HE was short, thickset man with a stubby chin whisker, an incessant -energy, and an amazingly choppy manner of speech. - -“'Just so; just so,' he said when he had heard our circumstances and -needs. 'Drive you around myself. Do it myself.' - -“Shortly thereafter he was driving us with two small ferocious horses -through the starlit night, over tumultuous roads, circling the city, in -order that--without passing through it, or meeting its expectant pink -militia or gend'armerie--we might get to some point on the bay where a -boat could be obtained to the _Violetta_. - -“'I see, I see,' he said. 'You'll have to get away. Get away. Before -daybreak. Beteta. Know him well. Damn rascal. Right, Jamison! Right. -Clever old boy, Jamison. Old boy. I was up City Hall. City Hall. Five -o'clock. Saw Mayor. Saw despatch. No names though. Said Museum was -robbed. Description. No names. How should I know? Too early, though. -Beteta ought to have waited. Seven o'clock. Time enough. Damn fool. Make -no great difference. Maybe not. Humph! Good enough case. Got you short. -Eh? Few thousands. Blackmail. Wouldn't do. Eh? Keep the mummy? Lord, -yes. Your game. Whoa! Here's Kirby's house. See if he's here.' - -“Singular conversationalist, Mr. Dorcas. His discourse resembled the -precipitous flow and fall of successive bricks. He pulled up before -that house of the picket fence, visited by Sadler and myself the night -before. But all was dark, not a window lit, no one within. - -“We could see, however, the low buildings, tall stacks, and shining -windows of the electric plant some distance away. Jamison departed for -the plant, saying he would tell Kirby we were there, if Kirby were at -the plant. Dorcas fastened his horses to the picket fence. We sat on the -edge of the porch and held council. - -“'Kirby in bad hole,' said Dorcas. 'Mayor crazy. No lights. Snuffed out -the city. Cool, but risky. These boys, Lord! What nerve they have! Don' -know. Might have worked, maybe. But that riot. Bad. Irish. Jimmie -Hagan. Red hair. Proclamations. Hot. Printed too. Hagan had 'em. -Mayor's tenderest corns stepped on. Insurrection. Sedition. Mob. File -of soldiers. Dead wall. Bang! Dead Irish. Next, Kirby took the riot. -Clubbed the Mayor with it. What! Collusion with rebellion. Humph! Got -his bill. Yes. But the Mayor's got him. Never forgive. Never!' - -“'Irish!' said Sadler. 'Proclamations nothing! Irish never got up an -insurrection.' - -“'Did too,' said Dorcas, diving into his coat. 'Here. Got a copy. See -here!' - -“'He must have run into Chepa,' said Sadler. 'Chepa used to have sand, -and he's Kirby's foreman, now, ain't he? We heard so. Him and Irish -used to be with each other like a man and his pug dog, and each of -'em thought the other was the pug dog. That's a proper international -relation, ain't it? Wrath of God!' says Sadler. 'Look here! Chepa never -did this by his lonesome.' - -“He read aloud the proclamation: - -“'Citizens, rise! The Mayor tyrant has arrested the electric lights! -The Mayor, betrayer of the people, has put in jail Kirby, friend of -the people! The Mayor thief has stolen the people's taxes to buy gilt -furniture! The Mayor pig eats the people's taxes! Therefore is he fat -and shaped like an egg which within is bad. Kirby, friend of the people, -is desolate because he cannot buy more electricity, because the Mayor -sneak will give him no money which the people gave him! Release Kirby -or Down with the Mayor! Shall Portate be darkened forever? Citizens, are -you slaves? Citizens, be not deceived! Citizens, rise!' - -“'Chepa nor Irish didn't do that!' said Sadler. - -“'Peppery, ain't it!' said Dorcas. 'Red hot. Who did it! Don' know. -Kirby, maybe. Don' know! Done for himself now. Sure.' - -“'Mr. Dorcas,' I said, 'why shouldn't Kirby sail with us to-night?' - -“'Maybe he won't. Likely not. Here's Jamison.' - -“Jamison came up deliberately. He said there were some men tending the -furnaces and dynamos who thought either Kirby or Chepa would be back -before midnight. Senor Kirby had said he was going to visit a foreign -vessel in the harbour. They knew no more. - -“Jamison thought he would go back to the plant, and so said farewell. - -“'Why, there!' I said; 'He's on the _Violetta_ already. But undoubtedly -there will arise a point of duty, of responsibility. But you are a -responsible man, Mr. Dorcas. You may be playing a game of your own, but -my impression is it will be, on the whole, a decent game. I'm willing to -be convinced it is, however it may look not over friendly. At any rate, -Kirby knows you, if I do not.' - -“'Knows me!' Dorcas said. 'Knows me! You're right. Point's this: He's -done for himself. _Persona non grata_. Poison to the Mayor. Spoiled the -Mayor's face. I'll see to property. Cable Union Electric. Send another -man. Tell 'em he did well. All considered. Overdid it some, maybe. Bad -hole. No good here now. Cats and dogs. Fines. Thirty thousand up the -spout again. Damages. Anything. Queer country. Got to play it, you know. -Same as a trout. Better clear out.' - -“I said, 'But in that case what are we doing here? He'll want to come -here to pack up, and as we leave before daybreak, he'll have no time to -spare.' - -“Dorcas shook his head. - -“'Better not. Things happening now. City Hall. Pretty likely. Military -here most any time. Despatches to Beteta. Despatches from Beteta. -Gunboat after your boat. Don't know. Point's this: Whose a burglar? I -am. Pack up for him. Why not?' - -“Sadler said, i don't know Kirby, but I'll take the liberty of busting -his window, if that's all. Looks to me as if one had been busted here -already.' - -“He put his hand through the broken window pane and unfastened the -window, and we entered, leaving Dorcas with his horses. - -“Our selections from your apparel and other properties, Kit, I trust -you'll find to have been judicious. - -“Dorcas drove us to the north side of the bay and routed out the men who -rowed us here. They are, I believe, employés of The Transport Company. -Dorcas refused to come with us. - -“'Better not,' he said. 'Point's this: tell the Mayor I haven't seen -him. No collusion. Mayor's friend. You tell Kirby. Write me letter. I'll -wait here. Send it back. Power of attorney. Take charge. Responsible. I -say so. Tell him. Goodbye, gentlemen. Glad to've known you. Good-bye.' - -“Having arrived then,” concluded Dr. Ulswater, “it remains to inquire -if we've done well. If not, the boatmen are waiting, but if we have----” - Here Dr. Ulswater leaned forward, and put his hand on my knee. - -“My dear boy, I believe I speak for Mrs. Ulswater too. We've been the -round of the world, missing you.” - -As I thought it over, it seemed to me plain that Dorcas was right. -He and Jamison were very decent sort of men. If Dorcas took the -responsibility, the property would be safer with him than with me, -supposing I was in jail. Could I serve The Union Electric better, -under the circumstances, than by running away, as a sort of scapegoat, -carrying off The Union Electric's ill-odour with the Mayor, along with -the thirty thousand? The Company ought to be satisfied. I didn't like -running away. I longed for another crack at the Mayor. I looked at Mrs. -Ulswater, at the doctor, at Susannah. - -I supposed Dorcas was right about the ultimatum too, if the doctor had -reported his jerky hints correctly. He had lived in the country almost -as long as I was old, and was clever and wise. I had felt proud of that -ultimatum. It was new and bold and spectacular. But Dorcas had put his -finger on the flaw in it, the injury to the Mayor's prestige, by which -nothing was gained and much was lost. He might have pardoned being held -up, if it could have been done behind the door, though I didn't see how -it could have been done. He might even have pardoned the ultimatum, -but there were Chepa's proclamation, whose blasting rhetoric was -Susannah's--Susannah's genius and Chepa's idiom--and Mrs. Ulswater's -insurrection in general, and my taking advantage of it--why, Dorcas was -right there, at least. The Mayor had a whip-hand now, for the Government -would back him up now with a case for international argument. The riot -was bad business. It looked as if Mrs. Ulswater were not so infallible -as the doctor thought. I wasn't altogether a success either. The Union -Electric might or might not think me all right, but Dorcas was right, -and The Transport Company had won a point over us by having elderly -wisdom to manage its affairs in Portate, instead of a young one whose -nerve was longer than his head. Anyhow, the milk was spilt. - -“I'll write to Dorcas,” I said, getting up. “I seem to have run through -my usefulness.” While I was writing in the cabin I could hear the chain -and wheel where the crew was hauling in anchor. The hands of the cabin -clock pointed to one o'clock. - -Had Mrs. Ulswater contracted a habit of _coups-d'état?_ Certainly her -riot didn't look like workings of infallible good sense. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI--SUSANNAH--END OF THE VOYAGE OF THE VIOLETA - - -|IF Mrs. Ulswater, then, had planned her riot in order to make my -position in Portate untenable--as a sort of explosion of blasting powder -to loosen me from South America, it seemed reckless. It was not like her -to make a mess of a man's business in order to please only a notion of -hers to have him in her floating asylum. She had had, as I remembered -her, a curious awe of business. It was implanted in her, I supposed, by -Mr. Mink of Ohio. One would say offhand, of course, that she had meant, -by these incendiary proclamations, merely to frighten the Mayor into -releasing me, and had not seen beyond that. Of course, that might be the -case. - -But when I asked her just what was the extent of her plan, she seemed -reserved, and wanted to talk of settling somewhere in the States again. -She thought Portate a past issue. She wouldn't say whether or not her -conscience was clear about the riot, but she didn't seem to be troubled. -She was figuring about what kind of place would interest Dr. Ulswater to -live in. - -We were to go first to San Francisco, where the doctor meant to ship -Hannah Atkins to the Eastern museum for which he collected. She asked my -advice about a place to settle in. Doctor Ulswater was fond of unsettled -travelling and might be hard to satisfy. She didn't find my advice -of much use. I judge there were too many rolling waves of moonlit -imagination in it. Something seemed to be lacking, but she wouldn't say -what the flaw was. I suspected she wasn't precisely stating the nature -of her aim and purpose. She began to consult Sadler instead of me, and I -took to running down Hannah Atkins to Dr. Ulswater, so as to induce his -eloquence, calling her obsolete and stolid, or criticising the way she'd -been laid out rather hunched up; and he would pour out South-American -archaeology till everybody took a new interest in life. All you had to -do to start him, like a spring flood in a thirsty land, was to begin -something like this: - -“Of course,” you'd say, “I'm not real well acquainted with mummies, and -I'll take your word Hannah's a good specimen of her kind, only I'd call -her laying out pretty economic and bunchy; and of course she's not in -it with an Egyptian mummy for a minute, but we won't quarrel about that, -though on the outside she's pretty much like a bag of meal, and when -opened up, the difference is all in favour of the bag of meal; but -that isn't the point---” and so on. Give him an opening, and he'd shed -knowledge like rain off a roof, till you felt glad to be alive. - -Or else I would go off with Susannah and help her write her poem on me. -That poetry was so candid that it got away from me. It soared off on the -wings of truth, and dealt too much with pure facts. My nose not being -straight, it stated the fact, not brutally, but simply. Any weakness I -had, and there was a rhyme for it, down it went, and if there wasn't a -rhyme, she just planted it in the beginning of the line instead of at -the end. Technical difficulties never balked her of that. There were one -thousand, two hundred and fourteen lines before we got to California. I -wouldn't take a fortune for that poem. It was more than a photograph. It -fitted me like the skin of a snake. But that's not its main value. - - “Kit Kirby was an engineer,” - -it began. - - “ So handsome and so debonair.” - -“Handsome!” I said, feeling interested. Susannah took an observation. - -“Some.” - -“Then you oughtn't to say 'so' when you mean 'some.'” - -She scratched out and wrote: - - “Some handsome in respect to him.” - -But I was new at literary criticism or I wouldn't have made that -mistake. It went on: - - “But very crooked in his nose, - - And very vain about his clothes!” - -I objected: - -“Not at all, Susannah! Neat and cleanly!” - -She corrected: - - “And neat and cleanly in his clothes,” - -which shows the value of literary criticism. - -Then the poem went through with the circumstances of the Portate -Ultimatum, the Hannah Atkins plot, and the sequel of those -complications. - - “And everything was in a muss, - - And so he ran away with us.” - -Now, from that point on, it went along something like a diary. It -recorded daily incidents, reflections, comments, the shades and -modifications of Susannah's opinion of me. It was minute, microscopic, -and detailed. It went into unsuspected corners, and hauled things out, -and delivered judgments on them. If the book of the Recording Angel is -put together on that model, it's surely a good model. Perhaps the first -sight of the record and analysis will make a man squirm. But I wouldn't -ask for a better Recording Angel than Susannah, or a judge on the whole -more just. But that is not the main value of the poem to me. It began to -strike me in a new light when I discovered that Susannah had my sins on -her conscience. - -There were entries like these: - - “June fifth. - - “The night is dark as it can be, - - The rain is falling on the sea, - - And every one of us is gay. - - Kit was very good all day. - - - “ June tenth. - - “ Georgiana Tupper died, - - I cried a lot, and then I cried - - Because Kit did not care a fly, - - But said he did, and told a lie,” - -This was a kind of light to stand in, not only searching, but one that -manufactures repentance faster than a man can dispose of the goods. - -Two things began to dawn on me: first, that, although, as the subject -of Susannah's poem it was natural I should be all around in it, on the -other hand, looking at the poem as a diary, I was more ubiquitous than -seemed reasonable: second, that the diary was getting on my nerves. -In fact, passing time was becoming a sort of running commentary on -Susannah. It dawned upon me that Susannah and I had fallen into the -habit of occupying each other's horizons. Then said to myself, “I'm -in for it. It's the way the world is made.” This was toward the end of -June. The _Violetta_ was in sight of the California coast, and the blue -mountains of the Coast Range were a fringe along the eastern skyline by -day. - -One night I sat with Sadler, looking across the water toward where -our native land lay in the darkness, he twankling on his banjo and I -thinking of the condition of being a running commentary with an occupied -horizon. By and by he began to mutter and grumble into a sort of tune -whose joints didn't fit. On the whole, as a tune, it was an offence to -music, and didn't agree with my idea of what is morally right. But it -surely suited him. He began to sing to it, and the words didn't suit me -either. - - “When first I kissed Susannah-- - - The facts I state precise-- - - The forty million little stars - - They winked their little eyes, - - They seemed to say, 'You dassn't'-- - - I guessed the same was true,-- - - They seemed to say, 'I reckon things - - Will happen if you do'; - - When first I kissed Susannah. - - - “When first I kissed Susannah, - - I wondered if I dared; - - I see some little stars go out, - - Implying they was scared; - - I see a porpoise lift his head - - And pop his eyes and drool; - - And all the sea lay flat and prayed, - - 'Lord help this poor damn fool!' - - When first I kissed Susannah. - - - “When first I kissed Susannah-- - - The facts I state 'em free-- - - She never done a single thing - - To knock the head off me. - - She melted like a snowflake, - - That's crystal, keen and white, - - That turns a drop of water, - - That glimmers in the night, - - When first I kissed Susannah.” - -There was a long silence. - -“Of course,” I said at last, “I might be mistaken, for though you're -some stiff maybe with ancientness, still you've got weight and -experience, and accident and foreordination ought to be allowed for.” - -“Sure they ought. You're right, sonny. That there's a good balance of -facts.” - -“Allowing for all that then, still I'd like to remark that if you kiss -Susannah again, I'll knock the head off you myself.” - -Sadler twankled on peacefully. - -“Is them sentiments genuine?” he asked, “Which I wish to inquire if -they're the offspring of wrath.” - -“They are!” - -“Well,” he said, “it's this way. Scrapping is roses and raptures to -me, but the facts don't allow it. The facts of that poem ain't in my -experience but yours, which is why I'm weeping to the moon.” - -“They're not in mine either.” - -“They _ain't!_ Well, why ain't they?” Then he swore in a slow, plaintive -manner. - -“They ain't! Well, why ain't they? That's what I want to know.” - -He went off leaving me reflecting about all the things a man misses. -Then I thought about the way things are linked together, one thing -happening because of another. - -For if the King of Lua hadn't roused Mrs. Ulswater's wrath so that she -had to carry him off, she wouldn't have carried off Sadler too; and if -Sadler hadn't been a poet, probably Susannah wouldn't have been either; -and if Susannah hadn't begun a poem on me, it wouldn't have turned into -a semipublic diary; and if I hadn't seen her diary, and seen it grow -from day to day, I wouldn't have got into that tumultuous condition. -Susannah saw through me, as if I were a window pane, but the window, -through which I saw into Susannah's secrecy, was her diary. - -At last I got up and went down into the cabin. Susannah was not there, -but the doctor was reading to Mrs. Ulswater. - -“Mrs. Ulswater,” I said, “is Susannah too young to be kissed; that is, -by me?” - -“Don't you mean too old?” she asked quietly, without looking up. - -“No, I mean too young.” - -Mrs. Ulswater was silent a moment. - -“I suppose she is. But not too young for us to make plans.” - -“Did you have a plan, Mrs. Ulswater?” I asked after a while. - -“You needn't pretend you didn't know what it was.” - -“I suspected it when it began to succeed.” - -Dr. Ulswater took off his glasses and pointed them vaguely at me. - -“As to the date of your suspicions,” he said, “you are an authority, but -as to the date of the success of Mrs. Ulswater's plan, you are in error, -in error. Mrs. Ulswater's plans begin to succeed when she begins to make -them. The beginning of the end is coincident with the beginning of the -beginning. She has an arrangement with destiny. She i----” - -“Stuff!” said Mrs. Ulswater. - -“Not at all! Not at all!” he cried. “I'll bet Hannah Atkins to a fresh -infant that Mrs. Ulswater laid the lines of your future a year and -a half ago, and started for a predestined Island of Clementina, -and collected a foreordinate orphan whom she had spotted from the -description of the late Mr. Tupper. 'Susannah,' she said to herself, -'will do for Kit. We'll go to Clementina.' Pundits, prime ministers, and -reigning monarchs she picked up by way--populations rioted as she found -convenient--mere incidental details to a further end. Through helplessly -remonstrant oceans, through a universe undisciplined and disorderly, she -pursued the judicious tenor of her way. Here and there she altered the -trend of history. It was nothing. Missions! Not at all. Her purpose was -to make a match. The feminine mind----” - -“Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII--ZIONVILLE - - -|IN San Francisco Dr. Ulswater set about despatching Hannah Atkins -eastward, and I got into communication with The Union Electric Company. -Sadler disappeared. He went with Dr. Ulswater to see Hannah Atkins -despatched, and then disappeared on business of his own. - -Dr. Ulswater wired east: “Goods shipped by S. P. as per letter to -follow.” Two days later he received a telegram from the East: “What's -the trouble with your shipment?” He wired back: “Don't know of any -trouble,” and received this mystic and portentous reply: “Held up at -Zionville.” - -Zionville! Where and what was Zionville? Dr. Ulswater and I were to -find out. How shall one answer the question: “What is Zionville?” We may -begin in this way: - -A stranger visiting Zionville to-day, if he is one with eyes to see -understanding, will notice that the distinction of the place, in some -singular and subtle way, seems to come together and concentrate on its -cemetery, a noble enclosure with an imposing arched gateway. He will -wonder how and why. - -If he takes my advice, he will inquire first for Babbitt's Hotel. He -will find there a long veranda with thin green pillars, many cane-backed -chairs, and many occupants of the chairs. Of these occupants let him -inquire for William C. Jones. It may well be that one of the occupants -will be William C. Jones. Let him fall into casual conversation with -William C. Jones. He will find him full of local patriotism, elderly, -cross-eyed, a lawyer by profession, a man of harsh voice, and manner of -speech as indirect as his left eye; of a bleak and barren face, heavy, -morose, shaped like a Bartlett pear, with light eyelashes and no -eyebrows; a man of statesmanlike carriage, with care up on his forehead. -Let the stranger, pointing to the cemetery's tallest monument, at last -inquire: - -“What's that monument for?” Maybe, if he should speak of it as “that -pillar of distress,” or some such equivocal term as might suggest a -doubt whether he liked its architecture, it might be a good plan. Then -William C. Jones will fasten on either side of his questioner a glassy -diagonal stare, and speak something to this general effect, inquiring: - ---Whether you are a sarcastic and facetious party, or one that has -misspent his youth and means to die sudden and ignorant; and if so, -whether you are inclined to ribaldry, and don't know a real serious -subject from a can of spoiled beans; or are merely a sort of Hottentot -party, disguised in a different and on the whole inferior kind of -homeliness, with features not well assorted, morals depraved, and -intellect omitted; and if so, whether on that account you ought to be -excused for illiteracy respecting that world-renowned monument, or were -not well brought up, and possibly intend better than you talk.---- - -In that way the subject will be fairly opened. - -Under the guidance of William C. Jones let the stranger go about, -listen, and observe. He will hear that originally Zionville was the -offspring of a gold mine. He will see that at present she lies in the -midst of orchards and vineyards. Superficially, she is a small and -happy city lying between the flat plain of the Sacramento and the lower -foothills of the Sierras. In reality she is a personage. No origins -account for Zionville, and no appearances define her. - -Dr. Ulswater is fond of drawing fine distinctions between what he calls -“the phenomenal and noumenal Zionville,” between “the objective and the -subjective Zionville,” between Zionville as she appears to the senses -and “Zionville as such.” This is all more or less beyond me, but I'd -go so far as to admit that “Zionville as such” is a personage without -parallel in the solar system, without example in the Milky Way. How -shall I describe her? She is romantic, and incurably young. She -is nonchalant, and yet interested. She is open, unashamed, and yet -impenetrable. - -When Dr. Ulswater and I first saw her, she appeared to consist of some -hundreds of ramshackle houses thrown down anywhere, a few handsome -residences on the hillsides, a couple of brick blocks, a high school, a -jail, three churches, Babbitt s Hotel, and an outlying Chinatown. There -were no sidewalks then to speak of, except on Main Street. There were -some gas lamps, but nothing electric, and nothing that looked like a -cemetery. Westward lay the plain, eastward the wooded hills and lonely -canyons. Nothing spoke outwardly of Zionville s aspirations, her hopes -and dreams. And yet she stood there in a crisis of her history. - -It is well established now that there are three great dates in Zionville -history, of which the first marks the discovery of the Eureka Gold -Mine, and the second the Reformation. Opinion agrees that before the -Reformation she was already a personage, but admits that her morals -were seedy; that morals was not a subject to which she gave any great -attention. - -The history of the reform movement is a volume by itself. The subject -of morals once called to her attention, she went at it with her -characteristic ardour and efficiency. Anything labelled “Morality” - she was ready to try. She set her mind on higher things. She became -conscious of her destiny. A new era dawned. She discarded her old name. -The name “Zionville” dates only from the Reformation. Her former name is -expunged from her records. No public-spirited citizen ever mentions it -now. - -Dr. Ulswater and I stepped, then, from the train, and looked about us, -and saw a drowsy, shiftless looking town, loafing, sprawling at the feet -of the hills. We cared nothing for Zionville. We were looking for Hannah -Atkins. We wanted to know what brigand of the Sierras was low-down -enough to hold up a lady of her age, discretion, decent poverty, and -illustrious descent. We asked the station master if he had any news -about him concerning such and such goods, so and so labelled. - -He was a small man with pale eyes. No sooner had Dr. Ulswater spoken -than his pale eyes glowed with purpose. There was a sudden and -mysterious light in them. It was the reflection of the torch of -Zionville. It was our first glimpse of Zionville's pure flame. - -He sprang up. He ran past us without speaking, out through the open -door, and sped up the dusty street. We stood alone in the silent, empty -station. The doctor walked to the door, adjusted his glasses, and gazed -after. I followed. - -“Doctor,” I said, “Hannah's got into trouble. Maybe she stopped off for -breakfast and didn't pay her bills.” - -He was beyond the reach of jibes, listening, gazing at the phenomena -before him. We both looked. We saw Zionville waking up, shaking her -mane, pealing her eagle eye, girding her loins and unlimbering herself. -First one figure, then another appeared in the hot sunny street; then -groups, throngs, gathered and martialled. The dust rose so thickly as -to hide them, but the distant murmur grew, and now we heard the thump of -drums, the clash of cymbals, the piping of fifes. The brown dust cloud -came rolling down the street toward the station; through it we soon -discerned the approaching procession, men and women and a fringe of -clamouring children. - -“Mad!” said Dr. Ulswater. “Why, it's a palpably insane community! What -do you conjecture they're after?” I said: - -“Maybe it's Hannah's pedigree. Maybe it's us.” - -The dusty procession was upon us. We were seized and thrust into the -middle of it. The tumult, the shouting, and the noise of semi-musical -instruments was so great that if anybody attempted to explain or answer -questions, I didn't make it out. I noticed that the confusion was really -superficial. Nobody seemed to be in command, every one seemed to have a -hand in what was going on--whatever it was--and some common understood -purpose seemed to guide it all. It was an organised miscellany. Up the -the street we went through the dust, drums, cymbals, fifes, and flags -before and after. We turned at last, crowding up the alley where a large -hall used to stand behind Gregson's grocery. Whoever in Zionville was -not in that hall was looking in through the windows. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII--WILLIAM C. JONES AND LOUISA - - -|AT the upper end of the hall was a low platform, on the left side of -which sat twelve men on benches. At the right end of the platform stood -that familiar oblong box that contained the last tabernacle of Hannah -Atkins. The covers were off. There were signs about her of considerable -investigation. A table stood in the centre of the platform and behind -it sat a very small man, with a long silky black beard and very delicate -features. - -Gentlest and suavest of men! He was called “Louisa,” this magistrate. -For if he had, hanging disconsolately in the rear of his history, the -family name of “Bumper,” it was nothing to the point. The sure taste and -discretion of Zionville always refused it. - -At that time he was Justice of the Peace, and Coroner, and some other -things, and in after days Mayor of Zionville. His voice was sweet, -tender, soothing, a sort of a tenor warble; his manners were beautiful, -and language flowed from him like molasses from a spigot. - -In front of the platform stood a man of features reminding one of the -Sahara Desert. This was William C. Jones, the Public Prosecutor. - -Dr. Ulswater was in a condition of wrath. With him a condition of wrath -implied a condition of eloquence. We being hauled up before that soft -and subtle child, Louisa, with Louisa, W. C. Jones, and all Zionville -wanting to know all about Hannah Atkins all at once,--being, in -fact, for the first time face to face with Zionville, that unique -phenomenon,--any kind of behaviour on our part would be likely enough; -but on account of haste, and on account of some punches in the back due -to the ardour of the occasion, Dr. Ulswater had emotions in his head -that kept discharging his hand upwards from his head in a series of -explosions, and he started in to give his opinion of Zionville, and let -off opinions in volleys and artillery playing wonderful. But Louisa -flowed over him like molasses over a hot griddle cake: - -“Later, sir, later, we shall be happy to discuss with you the foibles -of our society, but what we are interested in now is how this party, in -this here truncated coffin, came to be travelling through Zionville -in this here noncommittal manner; also, as to what may be the names, -titles, pretensions, antecedents, residences, of yourself and friend; -also of the noncommittal party aforesaid; also what may be your -connection with that party. These, sir, are the points on which -Zionville desires to be informed. But perhaps this other gentleman can -give us some succinct statement, some short cut to the information this -community is after.” - -I gave Louisa our names, and told him the party he referred to was a -foreign lady that went by the name of “Hannah Atkins,” at least lately -she been so called though I had reason to believe it was an alias, or a -corruption of her title and pretension. - -“I thank you, sir,” said Louisa, sweetly. “We progress, and your -statements reasonably agree with the information we already have. And -now possibly Dr. Ulswater will entertain us with some still eloquent -but more pertinent remarks, some exhilarating but not too gruesome -anecdotes, illustrating the immediate causes of this lady's decease.” - -The doctor took a new start. He made some flourishing archaeological -statements about the Incas and the antiseptic qualities of the Andean -climate, and then he sailed off on the high seas of South-American lore -and his own enthusiasm over Hannah Atkins. But he was still somewhat -flustered and confused. There was a growing tumult round about. I judged -Zionville didn't follow him. Louisa said it wouldn't do, and William C. -Jones rose up gloomy and bleak, and his forefinger started arguing up -and down like a walking beam. He wanted to know: - ---Whether them hideous words, unaccounted for by any civilised alphabet, -was the names of Mrs. Atkins' ancestors, or of the last heathen jurymen -that had tried him (Dr. Ulswater) for some previous harrowing crime; -and if so, whether remarks made in the Choctaw language on insurance -statistics, such as his (Dr. Ulswater's) remarks appeared to him (the -speaker) to be, were not likely to impress an intelligent jury as -intended to mislead and deceive; and if so, whether he (Dr. Ulswater) -didn't mean,--before justice was summarily executed upon him by the -aroused public spirit of Zionville,--to brush his hair and procure a -set of whiskers less weedy and revolting; and if so, whether he meant to -depose that this here deceased party came by her death naturally or not; -and if so, whether he hadn't no better account to give of his possession -of the same than incoherent statements, which plainly was meant to evade -inquiry with irrelevant excursions into doubtful tradition---- - -“Doctor,” said Louisa, “I grieve to have misled you. I intended to make -plain the desire of the jury for information, not on the subject of this -lady's remote ancestry, but as to how she came by her death, and why -she was travelling around, not as an authenticated corpse, but as -an inorganic freight, addressed to some more or less mythological -institution, some abstract idea on the other side of the continent. Do -I now make myself clear, sir? Do I understand you to depose her death to -have been violent or natural?” - -“How the blazes should I know?” cried the doctor, exasperated. - -“The defendant, gentlemen, deposes that he don't know. The defendant, in -fact, declines to testify on the point.” - -“She's a mummy!” shouted the doctor. “A mummy! What's the matter with -this maniac of a town? If you don't know what a mummy is, I'm telling -you. I know all about her that anybody knows,” and he went on to tell -what he knew, but William C. Jones bore him down, inquiring with the -voice of calamity: - ---Whether them figures he (Dr. Ulswater) was giving was the dimensions -of the city of Cuzco, or the age of Mrs. Atkins' parents at the time of -her death, or the geography of the Andes, or the story of Mrs. Atkins' -young romance; and if so, whether he (Dr. Ulswater) was acquainted -with her in youth; and if so, whether she was as yellow at that time -or affected since by a fever of that colour; and if so, inasmuch as his -(Dr. Ulswater's) statements seemed to imply that he was no relative but -only an admirer of Mrs. Atkins, whether his (Dr. Ulswater's) manifestly -false and absurd statement that she was upwards of four hundred years -old and her complexion complicated with considerable paint, wasn't an -unchivalrous statement, that throwed doubts on the genuineness of his -(Dr. Ulswater's) boasted admiration; and if so, and there was any museum -in Connecticut unscrupulous enough for such barbarous inhumanity, -and Mrs. Atkins and Dr. Ulswater ever arrived there--in defeat of -justice--whether they was intended to be exhibited in the same show -case; and if so, whether the promiscuous and opprobrious language he -(Dr. Ulswater) was at present using was by him thought calculated to -benefit his case---- - -“Doctor,” said Louisa, “Zionville is pleased to know you. Under other -circumstances your evanescent humour would delight us beyond measure. -But it is the opinion of the Court you ought to be informed that this is -a moral town. Yes, sir. Not insanity but morality is what's hit us. It's -the moralest town this side the Divide. We've got that reputation with -the sweat of our virtues. There was a time when anybody found in -possession of a corpse might be asked what he was going to do with it, -or he might not, according to idle curiosity or intelligent interest. -But times are changed. We make a point now of asking where he got it; -which is, of course, a sacrifice of perfect courtesy to exacting morals. -We admit it. But, sir, you have projected this here casket loaded with -moral dynamite--if I may so state it--into this here moral community, -and yet you claim not to know 'What the blazes'--if I quote correctly-- -she died of. The Court deprecates this distrustful attitude. The Court -regards such reserve as suspicious, incriminating. In response to -pertinent and proper questions you indulge some humorous statements -regarding--if I caught the word--“mummies,” some jocular reference to -the venerable appearance of the deceased--as the Court supposes. The -Court has already inferred deceased was an Injun, and therefore don't -care about the rest of her ancestry. You admit, sir, you know all about -her, that you are in complete possession of the facts so far as known to -any one. And yet, omitting the one pertinent fact, namely the cause and -circumstances of her death, you deliver an uncalled-for lecture on Injun -customs. The Court deprecates this learned frivolity. The Court -penetrates your foolish subterfuge. The Court proposes to inform you of -the evidence in its possession bearing on this case.” - -Here Louisa took a document from his pocket. - -“The following letter,” he said, “was received day before yesterday, -addressed 'To The Magistrates of Zionville.' - -“'_Gentlemen_:--- - -“'On the 14th, probably on the afternoon east-bound freight, there will -enter Zionville and endeavour to pass through a suspicious looking box -addressed to some institution in Connecticut that may or may not exist. -The undersigned is not informed. But the undersigned is well informed -that the consignor of said box passes under the name of James Ulswater.” - Now, if on examination of that there box, the Magistrates of Zionville -is of the opinion that this yere “James Ulswater” is a party that -oughtn't to be at large, the undersigned ain't going to dispute that -opinion, undersigned being of the opinion the contents of said box is, -or was once, a respectable middle-aged woman, with some Injun blood in -her, and named Hannah Atkins, as to occasions of whose death it ain't -for him to say. Only he don't take no stock in “James Ulswater's” - remarks on the subject. They don't inspire no respect in his bosom. As -to how “James Ulswater” came into possession of Mrs. Atkins' remains, -the undersigned believes James Ulswater has something up his sleeve -that he dassent tell. To what end then is “James Ulswater” shipping Mrs. -Atkins, without sign of mourning or mortuary symbol, but with stealth, -concealment and disrespect, over the innocent track and guileless -freight agencies of the S. P. R. R.? - -“'Yours truly, - -“'A Former Citizen of Zionville who Believes in her Destiny and Honours -her Morals.'” - -“Gentlemen,” said Louisa, “do the suspicions of our fellow citizen -appear to you justified?” - -The jurymen nodded one after another, like a row of tenpins. - -“Do the prisoner's remarks inspire confidence in your bosoms?” - -One after another the jurymen shook their heads. - -“Then the Court directs the sheriff to remove the elderly party calling -himself 'Ulswater,' and his presumable accomplice, the younger party -with the particular necktie and advantageous trousers, calling himself -'Kirby,' and that the sheriff hold these parties for further action. The -Court is adjourned.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV--AMBASSADORS FROM ZIONVILLE - - -|IT seemed to me I was getting into the habit of incarceration. I passed -from jail to jail. It was becoming monotonous. - -But this was a creditable jail, built in the fervour of the Reformation, -with a considerable veranda in front facing on Main Street. In the -fervour of the Reformation it had been, as you might say, a centre of -interest in Zionville. So many citizens got enclosed there during that -period for one reason or another connected with their not understanding -the tendency of events, that this jail always had a peculiar social -standing. It was not like the jails of other communities. It bore no -necessary social stigma. If a citizen was deposited there, it made all -the difference, and depended on the amount of repentance his case was -supposed to call for, whether he was put in a front or a rear cell. -Because in a front-windowed cell he could see Main Street, and maybe -talk with friends in the street, or join in the conversation on the -veranda. In this way the Judge and the condemned of the preceding -afternoon might often be arguing in the evening through a barred window -about politics or religion. Hence it always made a man vexed and low in -mind to be put in a rear cell, where he couldn't see Main Street. - -Doctor Ulswater and I were put in a cell over the veranda, and through -the barred window we could see the length of Main Street, which ran from -the railway station, at one end of the town, to nothing in particular, -as yet, at the other end. Main Street now runs from the railway to the -cemetery, but at that time it ran off into generalities. - -Main Street at that moment was full of a crowd which acted as if it all -belonged to one family. I could see Louisa standing on a dry-goods box -and talking confidentially to the family. There was a general session of -Zionville on Main Street. I judged we were the subject of conversation, -along with Hannah Atkins. William C. Jones and two other statesmen were -walking around arm in arm. The whole place was buzzing like a beehive. - -Then I noticed that Dr. Ulswater was not saying anything. He was looking -over my shoulder through the bars silently, and all anger was gone from -his face. - -“Kit,” he said, mildly, “this is a town of great interest to -archaeology.” - -I thought it over, and said: - -“Seems to me it'd be of more interest to Mrs. Ulswater's orphan asylum. -It's too fresh. It's the most youthful-minded place I ever saw. I don't -see any archaeology in it.” - -“Precisely,” he said. “The youthfulness of Zionville struck me too, and -that not so much because of her crude appearance as because of her -buoyancy. I said to myself, 'Clearly we are home again. This is no Latin -mob of Portate, no explosion of firecrackers, no furious inefficiency. -This is gunpowder in a gun. Here is the organising instinct, the jocular -humour, together with the deadly arrival. We are in the States.' But yet -I was not satisfied with that, and those considerations are not what's -hoisting me now. Cast your eyes back over the late events. Look from -this window on that people in their market place, their forum, their -agora. Recollect how Zionville got herself together. What unity? What -esprit de corps? You recognise it? Ha! No! It's Greek, sir, Greek! It's -the civic clan, the municipal State. So looked the Athenians, so they -acted in their market place. We have arrived not only in the States, but -in Zionville. Now, what is Zionville? A piece of antiquity! Archaeology -in flesh and blood! Pompeii be hanged. This is better than Pompeii. This -is a reversion, an atavism!” - -I said: “You'd better not deal out suspicious sounding names like those -within hearing of Zionville. She's high-bred and nervous. If you mean -she's a town with a character, I agree. She has more character than a -bucking bronco.” - -“Mysterious and extraordinary town,” he muttered. “Ha! You're right. -'Character' is the word. Personality! Personality fascinates me. I -haven't the article myself. I'm a nebulous gas. Hence I thirst for, I -cling to, personality. Most mysterious, most interesting town!” - -“I don't deny the interest, doctor,” I said, “but it seems to me it's -sort of concentrated around the question whether or not that crowd is -going to take a notion to lynch us. It looks like a crowd that takes -notions. Would an Athenian populace be likely to act that way?” - -“Precisely,” he cried with enthusiasm. “Look at Socrates!” - -It seemed to me Zionville had some game going on, but I didn't make out -what the game was. It seemed to me a lynching would be little short of -frivolous. But then the Athenians had acted frivolous about Socrates. -Zionville was surely an unexpected place. But the crowd in Main Street -didn't act like an angry crowd. It acted interested. - -At this moment the door of our cell opened and Louisa and William C. -Jones walked in. They sat down on a bench without speaking, and there -they sat and seemed to be embarrassed, and William C. Jones' left eye -was searching sideways for the cosine of x, and he began to question: - ---Whether coming in a spirit of conciliation or to speak last words of -warning or entreaty; and if so-- - -And there he stopped, as if he couldn't quite get his gait. - -“Maybe you're ambassadors,” I said, “ambassadors from Zionville.” - -“The very word, sir,” said Louisa, looking pleased. “Ambassadors from -Zionville.” And William C. Jones began again to indicate his doubts: - ---Whether a certain document received by Magistrates was intended to -further public interests, or private ends, or mixed in motive; and if -so, whether Dr. Ulswater's account of deceased party in question might -be accepted by Magistrates and apologies tendered, according to attitude -he (Dr. Uls-water) might hereafter assume; and if so, whether he -(Dr. Ulswater) would rather the deceased party in question should -be confiscated as incidental to judicial proceedings whose results, -although likely to be fatal to him (Dr. Ulswater) and his accomplice, -Zionville could no more than vainly regret, public interest being of -first importance; and if so, whether Dr. Ulswater would consent -to deliver over Mrs. Atkins peaceably, for a consideration, to the -necessities of Zionville, and thereby win an honourable place in her -(Zionville's) history; and if so, whether he would state his mind on -that point without incommoding the subject with the conquest of Peru, or -the natural history of South America, and thereby would accommodate the -Magistrates; and if so, or whether it would be necessary to return to -the Court house in order to hasten proceedings to the end that he (Dr. -Ulswater) and his accomplice might be hung before the shades of evening -softly descended, in the interests of justice and the destinies of -Zionville; and if so, whether he would accept or decline the said -proposition,-- - -“Doctor,” said Louisa, sliding in like syrup. “Allow me to state briefly -a few pertinent facts. Zionville is a moral town. It's the moralest town -you ever saw. But, sir, we see the necessity of getting this atmospheric -morality embodied in substantial institutions. We have already a high -school with an Eastern college graduate at the head. We have three -churches provided with clergymen, not one of whom dares show himself on -the street without a choke collar. And, sir, we have a cemetery; that -is, so far as a fence around it, and an excellent grave, well excavated, -goes toward providing such an institution; which, however, public -opinion is unanimous it don't go far enough. For there was once a time -in Zionville when there'd have been no particular difficulty on this -point, but those days are passed. In those days, when anybody was -dead,--as might happen perhaps by perforation, and airiness in vital -parts,--and if he was worth while, we used to ship him to Sacramento to -get a ceremony ready made; and if he wasn't worth while, we didn't -take much notice where he was planted; and therefore there wasn't any -cemetery that anybody could find if he wanted one. Such were our customs -and traditions in those days. But Zionville reformed. She took up with -sackcloth. She sat down to mourn, and she rose up reformed. 'Morals,' -she says, 'shall be my watchword. Morals,' she says, 'that's me.' -Sir, since then there ain't anybody died in Zionville whatsoever, none -whatever at all. But sometime ago there was a man named Jim Tweedy, who -got indented with a chimney falling on him, to that extent he looked -not only dead but disreputable, and you couldn't have told him from any -other miscellaneous débris. And one of our esteemed citizens, named Pete -Chapel, he got officious and jubilant, and went off by himself, and -dug a sepulchre on some land that belonged to him out the end of Main -Street. But was Jim Tweedy dead? Doctor, he was not! But he played off -he was for forty-eight hours, and then he came to, and looks around the -corners of himself, and says, 'Blamed if I ain't all triangles!' but he -wouldn't have a thing to do with that location Pete Chapel had fixed -up for him particular. He rejected it with indignation. Indeed, he was -perhaps not justly to be blamed, though he's never had the standing in -the community he had before, on account of our feeling he was a man -that couldn't be relied on when public interest was concerned, besides -looking discreditable on account of indentations in his surface; nor it -couldn't be denied that Pete Chapel's position was uneasy too, seeing it -was allowed as up to him to provide something for the situation. So he -put up Tweedy's grave for a raffle, and it fetched a good price, over -the value of the land about it, on account of public spirit in the -town. After that it changed hands considerable, the price fluctuating -according to rumours of indispositions, or strangers in town looking -warlike. It went up and down till it got to be a sort of thermometer of -Zionville's condition of depression, or confidence in its destiny. -At last it fell into the hands of William C. Jones, here present, who -donated it to Zionville, and Zionville put a fence around the property -and denominated the same a Cemetery. Such and so far is the history of -this institution. But, sir, we feel that our Cemetery has not as yet -attained its proper standing in our community by formally entering upon -its career of public usefulness. Our morality forbids the thought of too -direct action to that end. It has been suggested that time would remedy -this want. True. But meanwhile Zionville sees its progress stayed, -its development halted. Now, sir, Zionville discerns in Mrs. Atkins -an extraordinary fitness for this purpose. William C. Jones and I -have consulted. We discern a rare opportunity, a crisis in Zionville's -history. We have consulted with our fellow citizens, and they have -took to the idea like a nigger to a watermelon. Our determination is -inflexible. A monument has been ordered from Sacramento. The ceremonies -are arranged whereby to plant Mrs. Atkins, whereby to inaugurate our -Cemetery conformable to the spirit of our citizens. The San Francisco -press has been notified to send representatives. All is prepared. Name -your price, sir. It's yours. Name your conditions. They're granted. The -antecedents of Mrs. Atkins are the most essential elements in her -value, and we hope to see them, in your own eloquent language, indelibly -engraven on the monument.” - -“Why, bless my soul!” said Dr. Ulswater. “What good would a Peruvian -mummy do you? Why don't you bury a buffalo and call it a bishop? What's -the idea?” - -“Fame,” said Louisa. - -“Fame? fame? But look here! Mummies belong in museums!” - -“Very good,” said Louisa. “Ain't a cemetery a museum? Alas, sir! a -collection of various mortality?” - -“Dear, dear! You'll be the death of me.” - -“Whether it shall be possible,” began William C. Jones, “to avoid -compassing your decease through obstinacy and public interests, being -the object of this interview; and if so----” - -“Your honour,” said Dr. Ulswater with a grand gesture. Nobody could -beat him for elegance when he was in trim--“Your honour,” he said, -interrupting W. C. and addressing Louisa, “I beg the privilege of -donating Hannah Atkins to Zionville, and to the service of her fame. -To the interests of archaeology Zionville is more than a legion of -mummies.” - -Louisa ran to the window, thrust his hat through the bars and waved it, -and we heard Zionville break forth in one simultaneous pean. - -But when Dr. Ulswater and I came out of the jail and joined the -rejoicing, when--as the subject and centre of rejoicing--we came down -opposite Babbitt's Hotel, there we saw, on the veranda of it, Sadler -six feet two, and engaged in sinister meditation against a green pillar. -Then I knew he had written the Letter to the Magistrates. - -He came down from the veranda to join the rejoicing, and when I claimed -to see into his insidious villainy, he looked depressed; but Dr. -Ulswater was surprised and delighted. - -“By hookey!” he said,--For since his marriage to Mrs. Ulswater he had -come to swear always by innocuous things, and he was hard put to it -sometimes for satisfaction; hence sometimes his objurgations were -familiar, and sometimes recondite.--“By hookey!” he said, “Sadler, I -knew there was something Zionville reminded me of. It was you!” - -“I belonged to her,” said Sadler, sadly, walking along with us--“before -she reformed. She wollered in her nakedness then, and we both found -out that sin was monotonous. Since then we've each took a shy at the -spiritual life and found it was sportier'n the other. But still I -don't know if her Sunday School clothes will fit me. But, doctor,” he -concluded, “if it suits you and Mrs. Ulswater to sojourn and abide here, -I'll try on them clothes.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV--THE END - -|IN the history of Zionville the dates of the Discovery of the Eureka -Mine, of the Reformation, and of the Burial of Hannah Atkins, are like -1492 and 1776 in the history of this country. Whether those foreseeing -statesmen, William C. Jones and Louisa, had reasoned the whole thing out -or not, is now the question. For Sadler claimed that the statesmanship -was all his, and that Louisa and W. C. were trying to jump his claim. He -and Louisa and W. C. Jones used to sit on the veranda of Babbitt's, and -argue which of them ought to be pensioned, and have a bronze statue, and -brass band to play for him at meals. Sadler's argument was that he came -down on the heels of his Letter to the Magistrates, with the whole menu -cooked in his own mind. He saw to it himself that Hannah stopped over. -Louisa and W. C. Jones argued that the menu developed in the cooking, -that is, under discussion, to say nothing of the delicate handling which -lay to their credit. Moreover, they argued that Sadler had mostly -in mind the private need that lay in his nature to get even with the -Ulswaters for shanghaiing him off Lua. That was one of W. C. Jones' -strong arguments against him, whereby there fell a shadow of suspicion -on his (Sadler's) purity of motive. He had wanted to draw Dr. Ulswater -to, and get him interested in Zionville, where he, Sadler, had lived -when he was younger, and before he went over to Asia, and got the gray -ashes of Asia on his head. He had a sentiment for Zionville, as have all -who breathe her air. - -“I used to sit,” he said once, “in that there monastery in Rangoon, in -Burmah, with a yeller robe on, and I'd contemplate the same idea for -hours and days, same as Ram Nad is doing out there in the dust, which I -don't see why Ram Nad can't do his meditating somewhere else besides up -against that hitching post to employ one able-bodied man on detail to -see nobody's horse don't step on him--Here, Bobby Lee! You call your dog -off the prophet, or I'll come around and spank the fattest side of your -trousers!--Well, by and by, what with turning that idea over and over, -it'd get smooth and round like a billiard ball, and by and by I'd get -into a condition where I'd begin to see things running round the ball, -like the colours on a soap bubble, and them visions got mixed up with -the daylight. But about once in three times when I'd got a vision pinned -down so I could make it give its name, it was nothing but Main Street -from the station to Babbitt's Hotel. That was the peculiar thing in the -cultivation of my soul's garden. I guess their wasn't another garden -like it in Burmah. When I started after Nirvana, about once in three I -fetched up at Babbitt's.” - -“Which,” said W. C. Jones, “is a proper sentiment, but it don't prove -you was onto Hannah.” - -I don't know either just why Ram Nad liked to meditate against the -hitching post in front of Babbitt's. He got into the habit of it when -the Ulswaters, and all theirs, lived at Babbitt's. It was before they -built the big stone house on the hill, from whose porch one could see -thirty miles to where the _Violetta_ lay at anchor in the river. Ram Nad -never got over the habit of the hitching post. He'd sit there placidly -in the dust, with somebody's pony jingling a chain bit over his head, -and somebody's dog investigating the conical basket, whose perils no dog -could ever understand. Zionville was more than used to Ram Nad. He -was one of the assets of the town. He could squat down where he liked, -provided it was conspicuous and handy for pointing out to tourists. -He was part of Zionville's fame--he and his basket and his dingy long -beard, dingy cotton clothes, and brown bony ankles--a sort of public -institution. He ate and slept at Babbitt's, or at the Ulswaters', or -anywhere he chose. As I recollect, in his later years, he wore a Navajo -blanket that Sadler gave him, of a fiery red that burnt a hole in the -atmosphere. I recollect the Chinamen from Chinatown that used to drop -around and consult him at the hitching post, but what about I don't -know. He appeared to be an institution with them too, a sort of high -priest or spiritual adviser. - -So lived Ram Nad in Zionville. So he died in Zionville by a unanimous -agreement with himself. He left off breathing one afternoon, in the -sunlight, by his hitching post, calm and harmonious, in a Navajo -blanket. - -But I was speaking of the burial of Hannah Atkins, and what person, in -truth, ought to have a bronze statue in front of the City Hall, with a -laurel wreath on his head, and one finger pointing toward Hannah's -monument. - -Of course, any man, of any likely town in the West, advertises his town. -It's the subject of his daily conversation and his nightly dreams, for -it's not merely a casual coincidence of people, but an enterprise that -every inhabitant has stock in. So far Zionville wasn't peculiar. But -no other town would have grasped and gathered in the possibilities -of Hannah Atkins. The question is, Whose genius first foresaw those -possibilities? - -It is some years past now. And yet a tourist on the Overland train now -and then still drops off and asks to see where Hannah Atkins was -buried. But Oh! that great day of the Burial! Reporters came up from -San Francisco to attend, and Dr. Ulswater's oration was a monument -in itself. And Oh! the great days that followed! Zionville became -celebrated, suddenly and superbly, renowned. Fame jumped upon her. -It proclaimed her the healthiest town on earth, not to say the most -singular. There was a time--a short time, we admit--when nearly every -newspaper in the land had its item about Zionville. It was enough. Dr. -Uls-water, William C. Jones, Louisa, Sadler, Ram Nad, all, especially -Hannah Atkins, had a period of limelight fame. Europe and America spoke -of Zionville. The world stopped its business a moment and gave her a -cheer. - -The thing was done. Zionville was as well known as Uneeda Biscuit, and -launched on her career of increase. Her boom was started. - -As phrases from the Declaration of '76 have entered into the national -language, so phrases from Dr. Ulswater's great speech are embedded in -Zionville usage. “Centripetal point of envious resort,” were words to -be remembered and repeated. “Here we lay,” said Dr. Ulswater, “the -cornerstone of our fame,” and Zionville roared simultaneously! “He means -Hannah!” - -“Born in purple of an extinct American dynasty,” said Dr. Ulswater, -“she, whom we here deposit, is henceforth become the symbol around which -the affections of this democratic community are gathered, the cynosure -of our pride, the nucleus of our respectful regrets.” - -The statesmen of Zionville, then, saw and grasped their -opportunity,--Zionville's peculiar gifts, her imaginative reach and -supple unity of action being with them. They demonstrated this fact, -this principle, in the floating of a municipal enterprise, namely, the -automatic action of the newspaper paragraph. - -Now, no one questions the talents, no one grudges the praise, of Sadler, -of William C. Jones, of Louisa. They foresaw an automatic paragraph -in Hannah Atkins. They developed and put that automatic paragraph in -action. But the question is: What seminal mind first bore this seed? -Where lay that creative spark of genius, of forecasting insight and -prophetic statemanship? Who first conceived the idea? - -Susannah and I have long been married. We still occupy each other's -horizon. In the same way Dr. Ulswater is apt to see Mrs. Ulswater on the -horizon. She is perhaps a superstition of his. - -And yet, whenever I hear the Burial debated, and the idea of it traced -through William C. Jones, Louisa, and Sadler, I seem to see, talking -with Sadler in the evening on the deck of the _Violetta_, a small, thin, -quiet woman, knitting, sewing. Sadler himself does not remember what -she said. Probably her words were few. He remembers that it was there -certain things took shape in his mind. He remembers describing Zionville -to her, and how his sentiments got lively while he did so, and that Mrs. -Ulswater was interested, and little by little he saw it all, clear as a -map, before him. Was Mrs. Uls-water's then the seminal mind? If you ask -her, she says “Fiddlesticks!” If you ask Dr. Ulswater, he says, “Not one -imaginable, remote doubt of it!” - -I say nothing. Only I see Mrs. Ulswater on the deck of the _Violetta_, -knitting, sewing. - -Even so she sits to-day, knitting, or sewing, on the porch of the stone -house on the hillside. Below lies the city of Zionville, busy, booming, -with its trolley line and electric lights, which I put in for The Union -Electric. On the further hillside stands the Sanatarium; built and -managed by the Uls-waters. Mrs. Ulswater sits in her rocking chair, -caring nothing for bronze statues, little known of newspaper paragraphs, -knitting the welfare of her fellow men, sewing, embroidering their -destinies, mending their misfortunes. Forward and back goes the restless -thrusting thimble; the fine needle glitters, is gone, and reappears. - -So Athens lay below the Acropolis, where stood the bronze statue of -presiding Pallas, leaning on her spear. It was an idle weapon. The main -business of Pallas was to take in glory. Looked at in one way, it was -a foolish business. In Zionville Mrs. Uls-water turns all that over to -Hannah Atkins, to any one who can stand it. Mrs. Ulswater is a deity -from Ohio, and does not care for the parti-coloured bubble of glory. - - -THE END - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Cruise of The Violetta, by Arthur Colton - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA *** - -***** This file should be named 50272-0.txt or 50272-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/2/7/50272/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/50272-0.zip b/old/50272-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 06a0c9a..0000000 --- a/old/50272-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50272-8.txt b/old/50272-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4d0e7b7..0000000 --- a/old/50272-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6177 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cruise of The Violetta, by Arthur Colton - -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'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Cruise of The Violetta - -Author: Arthur Colton - -Release Date: October 21, 2015 [EBook #50272] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - - -THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA - -By Arthur Colton - -New York - -Henry Holt And Company - -1906 - - -[Illustration: 0001] - - -[Illustration: 0009] - - -IN MEMORIAM - -C. W. Wells - -DEDICATED TO - -HARRY L. PANGBORN and - -GEORGIA W. PANGBORN - -THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA - - - - -CHAPTER I--DR. ULSWATER - -|IN the Fall of the year when Krakatoa blew its head off in the East -Indies, and sent its dust around the world, I fell sick of a fever -in the city of Portate, which is on the west coast of South America. -Portate had the latest brand of municipal enterprise and the oldest -brand of fever. But they call any kind of sickness a fever there, to -save trouble, and bury the alien with as little trouble as possible. -I started for home, and came as far as Nassau, which is a town in the -Bahamas. There, a wasted and dismal shape, I somehow fell into the hands -of one Dr. Ulswater, who tended and medicined by back into the world of -sunlight and other interesting objects. - -Nassau runs up the side of a bluff and overlooks a blue and dimpled -harbour. Dr. Ulswater at last began to take me with him, to lie on the -rocks and watch him search in the harbour shoals for small cuttlefish. -He used a three-pronged spear to stir them out of their lairs, and a -long knife to put into their vital points with skilful surgery. -They waved and slapped their wild blistered arms around his neck and -shoulders, while he poked placidly into their vitality. So, being -entertained and happy, I recovered from yellow fever. - -By that time my handsome name, given by parents who recognised my -merits, "Christopher Kirby," had come down handily in Dr. Ulswater's -usage to "Kit," and we loved each other as two men can who are to each -other a perpetual entertainment. - -Dr. Ulswater was a large, bushy man in the prime of a varied life. Born -an American, he had studied in German universities, practised medicine -in Italy, and afterward in Ceylon. One of his hobbies was South-American -archaeology. He owned a silver mine in Nevada, and kept a sort of -residence in New York at this time, and was collecting specimens for -a New England museum. So that he was what you might call a distributed -man, for he had been in most countries of the globe; yet he was not a -"globe-trotter," but rather a floater,--in a manner resembling sea-weed, -that drifts from place to place, but, wherever it drifts or clings, is -tranquil and accommodating. He seemed to me suitable to the tropics and -their seas,--large, easy, and warm of body; his learning like the sea, -mysterious and bottomless; his mind luxuriously fertile, but somewhat -ungoverned. His idioms were mixed, his conversations opalescent; his -criticism of himself was that he had not personality enough. - -"No, my dear," he said, wrapping a dead cuttlefish up neatly in its own -arms, "I am like a cuttlefish whose vital point is loose. You are -an ignorant person, with prepossessions beyond belief, and absurd -deferences for clothing and cleanliness; but you have personality and -entertaining virtues. Therefore I will let you smoke two cigars to-night -instead of one, and to-morrow maybe three, for your sickness is becoming -an hypocrisy." Then we went over the rocks to our boat and the sulky -sleepy negro boatman, the doctor with his flabby bundled cuttlefish, and -I with a basket full of coral and conch-shells. The boatman rowed us out -over a sea garden with submerged coral grottos; pink and white coral, -branching and the "brain" coral, sea-fans and purple sea-feathers, coral -shrubs, coral in shelving masses; also sponges, and green hanging moss, -and yellow, emerald, and scarlet fish, silver, satin, ringed, fringed, -spotted;--all deep beneath in their liquid, deluding atmosphere,--a cold -vision, outlandish, brilliant, and grotesque, over which we floated and -looked down. - -"Hypocrisy, pretence, illusion!" went on Dr. Ulswater. "Yet we attach to -these words a meaning of praise or condemnation which begs the question. -The personality is all, the point of view. To observe an alcyonoid polyp -through thirty feet of water, an ineffable vision! or under a microscope -which pronounces the ineffable vision hypocrisy, pretence, illusion!--in -which is there more truth? Is not my hypocrisy an intimate truth of me? -Hanged if I know! There is a new yacht in the harbour. We will go to -it." - -And we moved across the calm glassy harbour toward the long white steam -yacht. - -It was a handsome sea-going vessel. Its brasses glistened in the -afternoon sunlight. _Violetta_ was its gilt-lettered name. Sailors were -busy forward, and a striped awning was over the after-deck. As we drew -near, a woman stood up under the awning and came over to the rail; she -had some knitting in her hands. I asked if we might come aboard, and -the doctor grumbled at me in disgust,--something about "frizzle-brained -women." - -"Of course you can," she said, decisively. "Wait till they bring the -steps," and she disappeared. - -"Ha!" he said, "steps! And a Middle West accent! Very good." - -We went aboard, leaving the negro in his boat, and under the striped -awning made the acquaintance of Mrs. Mink and a stout, blond-bearded -sailing-master, Captain Jansen. - - - - -CHAPTER II--MRS. MINK - - -|MRS. MINK was a pleasant looking woman, though somewhat thin, and -with sharp gray eyes. She wore a plain, neat black dress, such as a -self-respecting woman might wear to church in some small inland city. -A large flowered rug covered the deck, a round mahogany table in the -middle of it. There were a hammock and a number of upholstered chairs, -each with a doily on the back of it. A work-basket stood on the table, -brimming with sewing materials. A white crocheted shawl hung on the back -of a chair, a red paper lampshade over the electric bulb. - -The scene wakened sleeping associations of mine. Just such a shawl -my maiden aunts wore in Connecticut, just such doilies were on their -rocking chairs, just such flowered carpets were in their parlours. They -dressed like Mrs. Mink too, but, to the best of my recollection, were -not so agreeable to look at. - -That weird glistening sea garden of coral and purple feathers and -improbable fish was fresh in my mind, with Dr. Ulswater's talk, both -undomestic, paradoxical, and showing coloured objects slumberously -afloat in a transparent and deluding element. The wide blue harbour; the -steep white town buried in tropical foliage; the big spruce yacht, -too; the yellow-bearded Swede Jansen, and the crew in flat caps and -jumpers--all these belonged to the world as I had known it of later -years. With the line of the awning came the abrupt change; there ruled -the flowered carpet, the centre table, the doilies, the provincial -feminine touch, the tradition and influence of a million parlours -and "sitting rooms" of the States. One missed the wall paper, and -mantelpiece, the insipid and carefully framed print, and the black -stove; but Mrs. Mink seemed to have made herself at home, so far as she -was able, and the effect was homelike. - -All this while Mrs. Mink looked critical, and Dr. Ulswater was -introducing himself and me, and presently I became aware that Mrs. Mink -was telling Dr. Ulswater her story. - -It appeared that she came from the small city of Potterville, Ohio, -whose aspect might be inferred and pictured--a half-dozen brick business -blocks, a railway station, a dozen churches, dusty streets, -board sidewalks, maples for shade trees--mainly young and not too -healthy--clapboarded frame houses with narrow piazzas, a thin, -monotonous current of social talk, a limited and local existence. - -Until the year before, the fortunes of Mrs. Mink had hardly led her -beyond the borders of the State, nor away from Potterville for more than -a few days. - -Mr. Mink, a silent, plodding man--as I gathered--a banker, counted a -well-to-do citizen, but not suspected of unusual wealth, had died the -year before, of a natural and normal sickness. There must have been a -secretive element in him, something now forever unexplained. He had -sat at his desk in his bank. Away from the bank he had never alluded -to business. He had not liked any habits to be altered. No one in -Potterville, not even the bank cashier, certainly not Mrs. Mink, -suspected that Potterville harboured a millionaire. But when Mrs. Mink -found herself a widow of extensive and varied wealth, she set herself -to consider the situation. So far the story was partly inferential. Mrs. -Mink spoke with some reserve. - -When the size of her income was explained to her by her lawyer, who was -also her neighbour, she cried, in some alarm, "What _shall_ I do?" - -He said: "Get a steam yacht. Go into high society, and found a college. -Spend it on the heathen. Make your name immortal in Potterville." - -"But," said Mrs. Mink, narratively, "I thought those were too many -different things. But when I was little I often wished I could see the -equator, and now I rather wanted to see the heathen, and the idols -that have pictures in Sunday-school quarterlies. The more I thought of -parrots and monkeys and bananas and Foreign Missions, the more I knew -what I ought to do first. Because I knew more about Foreign Missions -than about colleges, and I thought tropical countries would be nicer -than high society." - -"Admirable!" cried Dr. Ulswater, suddenly. "What logic! For subtle -inference and accurate reasoning, look at that!" - -Mrs. Mink looked surprised. - -"But I felt sure that it would be better to be comfortable while I was -examining the missions, so I went to the lawyer, and he sent me to some -people who made ships. After that everything was plain." - -"Plain!" cried Dr. Ulswater. "It's a syllogism." - -"The ship-dealer was very kind," said Mrs. Mink, reflecting. "He got -the _Violetta_ and Captain Jansen. It has been quite pleasant so far. -But----" She hesitated. - -"But you haven't yet seen what you seek for," said Dr. Ulswater. "You -have taken but a step into the imperium of the tropics. You have far to -go. I have been on the road these twenty years. Imprimis, I will show -you the model upon which the heathen idol is constructed." - -He brought up the cuttlefish from the boat and unbundled it. Mrs. Mink -thought it was somewhat uglier than any pictures of heathen idols. - -"The faith of the savage is based upon fear in the midst of wonder," -said Dr. Ulswater. "This is an incarnate terror and obscure nightmare -seen moving through ineffable sea gardens. Behold the seed of religions. -You are wise, madam, in desiring to see and to hear, to know the miracle -of the world. Everywhere two miracles confront each other, the visible -world and the soul of man beholding it, but custom and usage are -blinding; that is to say, the more you get used to a thing, the more you -don't see it." - -Mrs. Mink nodded. - -"The soul of the heathen," continued Dr. Ulswater, musing, "and that of -the missionary are both remarkable." Mrs. Mink looked suspicious; but he -continued, musing: "There is, at this moment, an insurrection in Haiti, -a bad-tempered mountain blowing up in Peru, and ten thousand miles from -there a large brown idol, that I know well, sitting in the woods in -Ceylon, with green jade eyes and silver finger-nails. And they're all -turned over once a day." - -Something about Mrs. Mink, self-contained, quiet, and decisive, -looking at him with shrewd, unbewildered eyes, seemed to rouse him to -conversation; or else he had an object in being entertaining. Captain -Jansen and two or three blue-capped sailors were near, and stood at the -corner of the cabin listening, while he talked on, talked immensely, -talked gloriously, talked like the power of Niagara, until the tide ran -out and the sun set, and Mrs. Mink said, "Now you'll stay to tea," so -decisively that we stayed to tea. - -In the cabin were green curtains and pink lamp-shade, wall paper and -framed prints, a radiator, biscuits, cake, preserves, a red-haired Irish -servant-girl named Norah, and Mrs. Mink at home. She was thoughtful. - -"Do you _have_ to collect cuttlefish?" she asked at last. - -"I? No. I do what I like. Why?" Dr. Ulswater's innocence of manner was -perhaps too elaborate. "My curly-haired young friend must not go back -to his job for some weeks in South America, for he is not yet a -grizzly-bear. He is languid, like a jelly-fish." - -"Well, I shouldn't dare ask any one away from business. But I have some -spare rooms, and I would be pleased if you and Mr. Kirby would visit me. -It would be a great help, if you aren't too busy." - -"We are your grateful guests," said Dr. Ulswater, elaborately. - -When we came to go, the sulky negro and his boat had disappeared. -Captain Jansen offered to take us ashore. Dr. Ulswater bundled up his -cuttlefish. Mrs. Mink said, "He's dreadfully untidy." - -"Admirable!" cried Dr. Ulswater again. "It's a select word, a creative -description! He's a regular litter. His very vital point is loose." - -We slid away in the starlight. - -"What personality!" muttered Dr. Ulswater. "What point of view! Untidy! -The very word! She buys a steam yacht, furnishes it in the style of -Potterville, Ohio, and starts off to examine Foreign Missions. Why, -sure! That's easy!" - -Captain Jansen chuckled: "I see men try sheet her more'n once, but they -don't. She have a head." - -"Untidy!" muttered Dr. Ulswater. "Untidy!"--as if he foreboded trouble -in that word. - - - - -CHAPTER III--AND THE TWENTY PATRIOTS - - -|WE left Nassau the following morning. On the third day we passed the -Inaguas and sighted Tortuga. They were days rich with the tropical -outpourings of Dr. Ulswater, into whose warm Gulf Stream of conversation -Mrs. Mink now and then dropped cool comments and punctuations that -excited his luxuriant praise. What Mrs. Mink thought of Dr. Ulswater was -not so clear. - -The green cliffs of Haiti overhung a white surf, and the lapping mouths -of half-submerged caves below; above was the tangle of the forest, great -pendant leaves, sweeping and coiling creepers. It was the hot morning of -the fourth day. There was a thin, shining mist about, and Dr. Ulswater -quoted: - - "... soft and purple mist - - Like a vaporous amethyst, - - ... red and golden vines - - Piercing with their trellised lines - - The rough dark-skirted wilderness. - -"Vaporous amethyst!" he murmured, sentimentally. "Gaseous spirit of -jewel! Ah, Mrs. Mink! Lyric poetry, is it not a religion?" - -Mrs. Mink shook her head. - -"You see a distinction. You are right. You would say, in the worship of -beauty the ethical element is too subsidiary. You would point out the -lack of rigidity and purpose." - -Mrs. Mink did not commit herself. We watched the smoke of a steamer -coming toward us from the east. - -"I see the deep's untrampled floor!" murmured Dr. Ulswater. - -The steamer, a dilapidated side-wheeler, drew nearer, and a small cannon -was plainly to be seen in the prow, but the only men in sight were a -negro at the wheel and another walking the bridge. As they came within -hailing, the cannon went off suddenly, the ball boomed overhead, and -struck, spat! against the cliff, and on the deck a crowd of negroes -sprang up and fell to dancing, howling, waving their guns. Mrs. Mink -said, "For goodness' sake!" while Dr. Ulswater and I went to join -Captain Jansen. - -"Yas," he said, "I didn't know. If I know, I got avay." - -Three boat-loads of negroes were coming to board us. In the prow of -the first was one tall and thin, with a gold-laced regimental coat, -a tasselled sword, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and the dignity of a -commodore. They drew under the side, and Dr. Ulswater and this Commodore -talked Haitian French. - -Then they scrambled aboard, marched aft in an orderly manner, squatted -on the deck against the rail at the edge of the flowered carpet. Most -of them grinned sociably and chattered to each other. The crew of -the _Violetta_ remained forward discussing them. Dr. Ulswater, the -Commodore, Captain Jansen, and I sat down under the awning in the -upholstered chairs, together with Mrs. Mink. Dr. Ulswater explained, -cheerfully: - -"He says he's an insurrection. He admits that we're not the enemy, but -says he's got to have the _Violetta_ in order to triumph over the tyrant -of Haiti. When he has triumphed we will be rewarded,--meaning he'll be -in a position to pay damages. He thinks our consciences will reward us, -too. He thinks that's a strong point,--maybe stronger than the other. He -has only that one war-ship, and he needs another in order to attack the -navies of the tyrant. If you ask whether he's innocent or clever, why, I -give it up, but I guess he's superlatively one of them. He appears to be -calm." - -"Do you mean he wants me to give him the _Violetta?_" asked Mrs. Mink, -sharply. - -"Something resembling that, and it's not so unnatural,"--Dr. Ulswater -waved his hand balmily,--"you know, from his point of view----" - -"Nonsense! I sha'n't do anything of the kind!" - -"But--well--I gather his innocence is such that he might get up and take -it." - -"I'd like to see him! Who is he?" - -She was sharp-voiced, alert, and keen. Dr. Ulswater seemed bewildered. - -"Yes, but I gather he's a sort of patriotic pirate,--piratical so far -that it might not do to irritate him." - -Mrs. Mink softened a degree: "Is he patriotic?" - -"My experience in this neighbourhood," said the doctor, "has been that -patriotic leaders, who are down on the tyrant, are generally looking for -his job. But now, as they appear to be some two or three to one of us, -and armed, and, technically speaking, to have the drop on us,--why, -there's a West-Indian proverb to the effect that 'A spider and a fly -don't bargain,' but I would suggest something diplomatic, something -perhaps a little yielding. Something of that kind." - -The Commodore all this while sat stiffly upright, with one hand on the -hilt of his tasselled sword and no expression on his face, glaring away -from us across the sea. It seemed to me that his bearing couldn't be -natural to a being with human weaknesses, and that it went beyond the -real requirements of his uniform. I judged he had gotten it off an -equestrian statue. - -Dr. Ulswater began to talk with him again. Of the military, on the edge -of the flowered carpet, some looked genial, some murderous--most of them -genially murderous. Captain Jansen pulled his beard and looked meekly at -Mrs. Mink, and Mrs. Mink examined the Commodore critically. - -"He says," resumed Dr. Ulswater, "that it's a military crisis, and he -must have another war-ship or go under. When he has conquered the ships -of the tyrant, he will reward us. His remarks, like his manner, are a -bit monotonous, but I gather he's nearly, what you might call, on his -last legs. He rather intends to put us all ashore." - -"Fiddlesticks!" - -"A--certainly! You think------" - -"Fiddlesticks!" - -Dr. Ulswater subsided. - -"Ask them if they don't want some coffee. Ask how many are left in the -other ship. They can have some too." - -Dr. Ulswater reported that they did; that there were five on the -war-ship; that the Commodore was gratified to find madam accepted the -necessity amiably. - -The crew and all of us hurried under Mrs. Mink's orders. She collected -cups and glasses. She called for three kettles of boiling water to the -cabin, and closed the door. There were six of us, including Captain -Jansen and the Irish girl, Norah. - -"Now, Dr. Ulswater, you must help. Listen! You must put them to sleep." - -"A---- - -"_Listen!_ These two kettles will hold about thirty cups. Don't give -them too much. See that they all drink it at the same time. Send a pot -to the other ship. When they're all asleep, put them ashore. Now don't -tell me you can't, or you haven't anything to do it with, because you -_must!_ I won't stand it! The idea of giving up the _Violetta_ to be -shot at! How do I know what would happen to it? This pot we'll keep for -ourselves, and pour into the blue cups. _Hush!_ Don't talk to me! Ask -them to drink a health or something to something or other, so they'll go -to sleep together. Give up the _Violetta!_ That silly, conceited thing -sitting up there like a barber's pole and asking me that!" - -"You want some knock-out drops!" gasped Dr. Ulswater. - -"_Hush!_ Laudanum, laughing-gas! You know. Hurry!" - -Dr. Ulswater gazed at her with speechless admiration, took the two -kettles, and disappeared in the passageway toward his cabin. - -"Captain Jansen, you'll take this gray pot to the other ship, and only -one man with you, so they won't suspect; as soon as they're asleep you -better tie them up and come back. Put the trays on the table, Mr. Kirby, -and the cups and things on the trays. Keep the blue cups together. Do -you know if they like sugar?" - -Dr. Ulswater returned. - -"Now take the gray pot, Captain Jansen. We won't serve here till you -get there. Norah, pour them fuller. Dr. Ulswater, you must go out and -explain. Tell them it will be ready in a few moments." - -Dr. Ulswater opened the door and went out, muttering, "Wonderful!" - -The Commodore sat as before, holding his sword-hilt. The military sat -between the rail and the edge of the carpet. Dr. Ulswater made a speech, -which appeared to please them. Captain Jansen and one of the crew rowed -away in the boat, the captain nursing the gray pot and the tea tray on -his knee. - -Mrs. Mink filled cups, glasses, and tins. - -"I hope it will make that barber's pole sick. There! Captain Jansen has -gone up, Dr. Ulswater! Tell them about taking it all together. Tell them -to wait till we're ready. Mr. Kirby, you're spilling. Take care of -the blue cups, and let the men pass the other trays. You two go to the -right, you two to the left, you to the other end. Now we're ready." - -Norah was pallid. The twenty patriots took their cups in hand and waited -with wide, grinning mouths. Dr. Ulswater lifted his coffee-cup. - -" la Patrie!" he cried. "La Rvolution! a ira! Let her go!" - -"They haven't all emptied their cups, Dr. Ulswater!" - -"Encore!" thundered the doctor. "La Rvolution! Videz toutes! Bottoms -up." - -"Goodness!" cried Mrs. Mink. "How they look!" and ran into the cabin, -followed by Norah, shrieking. - -Under the spell of Dr. Ulswater's powerful drops the twenty negroes -stared, grunted, fell back, twitching, kicking, astonished, breathing -in snorts. Glass and china crashed on the deck. One of them staggered -up with a yell and dropped again. One rolled half across the flowered -carpet. The Commodore struggled for an instant with his tasselled sword, -and subsided, muttering. The long rows of limp and ragged men, of black -faces and open mouths, were ghastly and still. A gun was discharged on -the war-ship. - -"Tie them up!" cried Mrs. Mink from the cabin. - -Dr. Ulswater turned about, beaming at me. "A remarkable opiate, that, -Kit! I always said so," and pulled out his notebook, and made notes, -aloud: "On two of the subjects evidently painful in action--ten to -twenty seconds--per man three grains--muscular contractions, followed -by total relaxation and coma--in case observed dissolved in solution of -coffee--Remarkable!" - -"Tie them up!" cried Mrs. Mink again. - -Captain Jansen, with his man, came back and reported that his cases had -been disorderly. One of them had discharged his gun and fallen down the -gangway. - -We carried them, one by one, to the boats and tugged back and forth -across a hot and heaving stretch of water, till they were all landed. -Some of them were stirring and made a noise. - -When the last boat-load was gone, Dr. Ulswater and I came back under the -awning. Norah was washing dishes in the cabin, Mrs. Mink sweeping the -deck with a broom. The guns lay along the scuppers. She stopped, and -lifted a troubled face to Dr. Ulswater. - -"Will it do them any harm?" - -Dr. Ulswater seemed subdued: "It will make them sick at the stomach. -A--a moral lesson." - -"I should think as much!" she said, sweeping vigorously. "That impudent -barber! Did he want to be President?" - -"I understood he had ambitions." - -She hesitated again: "Do you think the revolution ought to succeed, if -their government is very bad? Or would it be better to stop it?" - -Dr. Ulswater gasped again, but recovered himself, and brought his mind -back to gravity and consideration: "My observation has been that, -though tropical governments are sometimes objectionable, these frequent -violences seldom improve them, and create distress. I think it is -generally more benevolent to back the existing state of things." - -"Oh! Then I think Captain Jansen had better tie something to the other -ship, so that we can pull it after us and give it to the other people. -Anyway," she ended, sharply, "I'm sure that conceited thing would make a -bad President." - -It was high noon when we steered away for Cape Haitien, towing the -war-ship. On shore two or three revolutionists were climbing a gully in -the cliffs. Others were sousing their heads in the surf. More of them -seemed to be still sick or drowsy. Mrs. Mink went to take a nap. Dr. -Ulswater and I leaned against the rail. Captain Jansen edged toward us. - -"My, my!" he said. He rubbed his beard a moment, shook his head -thoughtfully, and went forward. - -Dr. Ulswater pressed his handkerchief to his wet forehead. The heat was -great. - -"Kit," he said, solemnly, "this is a discovery. Personality to burn. -Captured by desperate insurrectionists, she demands knock-out drops. She -puts them to sleep with a coffee-pot, and bundles them ashore. -And why not? She balances the issue of a people, tows off a war-ship, -and squelches revolution. Why not? And yet, what a phenomenon of -intrepid reason! What a woman!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV--THE TROPIC AND THE TEMPERATE - - -|WHEN a chicken drinks," said Dr. Ulswater, "he lifts his head and -thanks God, but when a man drinks he doesn't say anything. That is a -West-Indian proverb." - -I said: "It's a good proverb." - -"Well," he went on, "I should say it was, with the chicken, possibly, so -to speak, a somewhat mechanical ritual." - -We were nearing the end of our cruise. I never wanted less to go back -to Portate, but my health was too boisterously good to be denied. It was -toward the end of November. In the land of steadfast people, the frost -would be on the grass, the wind in the yellow corn-shocks, the good folk -gathering to their annual feast of gratitude, far from these lazy seas. -Old women with white hair and knitting, old men walking with -canes, pink-cheeked girls and big-handed men, children storming the -banisters--they would all be there. - -"What will you do on Thanksgiving day?" I asked, thinking of the cool -cornfields and familiar faces, of farm-yards and houses where chickens -used to drink in prayerful attitudes, where men also thanked God when -they drank, or ate. - -"I have left it to Mrs. Mink. She is considering it." - -"How?" - -"She is considering me. It amounts to the same thing. Her decision, I -should say, would determine my attitude on the question of gratitude." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I have requested her to consider me matrimonially," he said. "I fear -she is considering me in the light of Foreign Missions. - -"I have presented to Mrs. Mink," he continued, "as bearing on the point, -one of the clearest analogical arguments you ever saw. It is as follows: -The business of the tropic and temperate zones is to entertain and -supplement each other. They trade experiences--as they trade crude -rubber for sewing machines--to the profit of both parties. Put them -together and there arises in the mind of each a sense of romantic -surprise. Providence has supplied the need of man for permanent -astonishment by a trifling gradation of heat, so that when either shall -feel the need for something miraculous and incongruous, it has only to -find the other. I have pointed out to Mrs. Mink that her sailing in the -tropics was only falling in with this arrangement of Providence, and -she was pleased to hear it. Going about on loose seas in lazy climates -sometimes had seemed to her a lax and disorderly kind of conduct, and -having it attached that way to Providence made her feel better. I said -to Mrs. Mink: 'It's a doctrine of the present age that the tropics are -best administered and managed, for the good of all, by the temperate -zone. Civilisation is now tending to that end. Now, you, Mrs. Mink, are -a temperate zone. I am a tropical one. You have administrative ability. -I am a heterogeneous person, untidy, overflowing, and hankering to -be administered. You are the one, I am the other. Hence our mutual -functions, destinies, relations to each other, have been arranged and -foreordained by Providence. _Quod erat demonstrandum_.' That was my -argument to Mrs. Mink." - -I said: "It's a good argument. How does she like it?" - -"Mrs. Mink," he said, "is reflective but unconvinced. The extent to -which she is unconvinced is alarming. I can't deny it." - -I left them the day after Thanksgiving, at San Juan in Porto Rico, -and went back to Portate. Singular town, Portate. Singular man, Dr. -Ulswater. Singular planet around which the _Violetta_ was setting out -with its critical, exploring prow. - -It was some two months after, when I received Dr. Ulswater's first -letter. Altogether he sent me four letters. Letters! rather manuscripts, -documents, written in his own mellow and tumultuous style. They made -that wandering hearth and home of the _Violetta_ a vivid enough picture -to my mind. I followed its course from sea to sea, from island to -island, wishing myself aboard her. Here follow the documents. - - - - -CHAPTER V--FIRST DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE: FIRST ADVENTURE - - -Trinidad--_January._ - -|WHAT a world! What a woman! - -From the way in which Mrs. Mink collected you and me, it was clear -that she had a knack, a genius, nay, even let us say, a tendency toward -collecting people. In point of fact, no sooner were you gone than she -collected a Professor of Logic. - -His name was Simpson, Professor Simpson. It was at San Juan. Why did -she collect him? Now you speak of it, I reckon it was for a sort of a -breakwater to me. Gracious heavens! It wasn't for want of logic. Never! -But it is just possible that she found me, at the time,--I suspected -it--that she found me rather--shall I say?--overflowing, rather a -deluge. - -Professor Simpson was a man whose presence I should ordinarily have -welcomed for the educational value of his company, but I didn't welcome -him. He was small in person, dry of face, categorical in manner, testy -in temper, Presbyterian in religion, pedantic in language, undoubtedly -learned. But did he understand his function to be merely a breakwater to -me? He did not. Let that pass for the present. Mrs. Mink collected him -at San Juan, and we steamed away to Martinique. Here, one day, on or -about the tenth of December, we lay in the roadstead of St. Pierre. - -We were intending to go on that day, but about two-thirds of the -_Violetta's_ crew were in St. Pierre on shore leave. Captain Jansen -came aboard some time after noon, and finding the men had not returned, -became excited, took all the boats, and the remainder of the crew, even -down to the cook, to help him collect delinquent mariners the faster, -and went ashore again. We four were left on the _Violetta_: Mrs. Mink, -Norah, Professor Simpson, and I. - -The weather was calm to the point of deadness. Mont Pele, that -smouldering volcano, that suppressed Titan, was asleep. Not a cloud in -the sky, not a ripple in the bay. Jansen appeared to be having trouble, -for an hour passed, and the missing crew had not returned. - -Between you and me, as man and man, the delinquent mariners were in the -lockup, but Mrs. Mink does not know that, as yet. You can't rivet a nail -in a boiled potato, nor temperance in the tempestuous seaman, but Mrs. -Mink doesn't know that, as yet. - -We were just commenting upon a dark, small, condensed looking cloud -which had appeared above the shoulder of Mont Pele, questioning whether -it was an exhalation of the volcano, Pele in eruption. Was Mont Pele -about to overwhelm St. Pierre, a Vesuvius to Pompeii? Was I, like -the elder Pliny, to perish, a suffocated naturalist, a philosopher in -cinder? - -But it grew with enormous rapidity. It seemed to have an uncommon knack -of taking in nourishment, a terrifying appetite. I saw a house on the -mountain side rise up and vanish, swallowed at a gulp. Professor Simpson -got out his note-book and took notes. He described the cloud in his -notebook as "bulbous, or bulging in form, in colour a bluish black, and -unfolding centrifugally toward the edges." - -"In my opinion," he said, "we are ourselves in some personal danger. I -believe this is what is commonly called a tornado. Do you differ from -me, Dr. Uls-water?" - -I said: "Not there, professor, though it's late in the year for -West-Indian hurricanes. The most pointed opinion I've got is that this -deck is going to be a wet place in a minute." - -We'd hardly got to the cabin before the roar was audible, and grew till -we could not hear ourselves. One minute more and the _Violetta_ gave -a jerk that threw us on the floor, Norah on Professor Simpson and Mrs. -Mink on Norah. Between them they obscured him, on the whole, very -well. I got up and looked through the port-hole, and saw only spray and -splashing water. The ship was engaged in a sort of circular high-kicking -dance, something between a waltz and a cancan. The professor remained -obscure. Neither Mrs. Mink nor Norah saw their way clearly to -getting off him, and for myself,--seeing that he kicked but vaguely, -harmlessly,--I thought Mrs. Mink and Norah might as well suit themselves -about it. - -At the end of four minutes, perhaps five or ten, the tumult had subsided -to a strong wind and heavy sea. I went on deck, and discovered that -the _Violetta_ had been torn loose from her anchor, and was drifting -rapidly. The mist, however, was too thick to see far in any direction. -By the point from which the tornado had come, I judged that we had been -driven out of the roadstead and were moving perhaps west, or northwest, -on the open sea. A broken spar hung from the short rigging and beat -against the mast, and the deck was awash with water. I went back to the -cabin, and mentioned my inferences. Mrs. Mink jumped up and said: - -"Nonsense! It's impossible." - -"But, my dear Mrs. Mink," said the professor, rising, "surely a -situation that is _in esse_, in actual existence, cannot be described as -'impossible.' It is, as you mean to imply, however, most distressing." - -"Fiddlesticks! What shall we do?" - -The professor reflected. On reflection, he said he thought it needed -reflection. I thought we might as well remain where we were. He objected -that, being in motion with the ship, it was not in our power to remain -where we were, but, as regards our relations to the ship, I was perhaps -right. - -What a man! - -Mrs. Mink said we'd better have supper. - -The mist was turning to rain, the violence of the waves gradually -subsiding, and the wind growing more moderate. Norah and I went to -the galley. She cooked and I carried. After supper it was dark. A -pitch-black and rainy night came down on the troubled sea. The professor -and I agreed to watch alternately. He went to bed and I lay down on the -cabin sofa. I listened to the creak and thump of the loose spar, the -murmur of the rain, the splash of waves against the _Violetta_'s sides. -I reflected that our situation was perhaps more unusual than perilous; -that we were likely to be seen by somebody if the weather cleared; that -after all the sea is in reality a less eventful element than the -land; that a philosophic mind is better than a feather bed; that with -reasonable good luck and a philosophic mind I might have the credit of -a nightlong watch over Mrs. Mink's slumbers, along with the benefit of a -night's rest. So reflecting, I went to sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER VI--SECOND ADVENTURE - - -|WHEN I awoke the sun was shining in at the port-holes, and the ship -appeared to be quiet, but slanting. It was the slant that had rolled me -off the sofa and awakened me. Hence it must have just happened. I went -up the companionway, and saw--the boundless blue expanse of dimpled sea? -Not at all! Nothing of the kind! On the contrary, a towering green wall -of forest trees almost overhung the ship. - -Talk not to me of the ruthless chain of causes whereby all things are -bound, of nature's dismal obedience to law! As a scientist, I admit it -with reservation--as a man, with tears. But what I really like about -things is their fresh and genial inconsequence. Among all worlds, -give me one compact of improbability. Among all women, give me one of -invincible good sense. - -The _Violetta_ lay something over fifty feet from a high wooded bank. -The tide was out, but the shelve of the bottom must be steep, for her -list to landward was not very great. We were on the eastern side of -a semicircular bay, which opened toward the south. It was still early -morning. No wind stirred, and the ripples flowed gently among the stones -beneath the high banks. Bright-coloured birds flitted between the tall -stems of the palm trees. A place so calm, so halcyon, so appropriate -to the purposes of my suit! In fact,--Bless my soul!--nothing could be -better. - -Professor Simpson and Mrs. Mink appeared on deck. - -"Oh!" she said; "Where's this, doctor?" - -She looked as if she thought I had omnipotently arranged the climax. I -passed the question on to the professor. - -"Tentatively," he said, "I should conjecture it was an outlying island -somewhat to the north or east of Martinique." - -"But does any one live on it?" - -"That Dr. Ulswater and myself will take upon us to discover." - -"Well, I think it's a nice island, anyway. But there aren't any boats. -How are we going to get on it?" - -"Precisely!" said the professor. "A problem! I would suggest, perhaps, -a bridge of--of palm trees, felled--" he kindled with light inflammable -ideas--"felled in such a manner as to fall forward upon the ship, thus, -being fastened, to form a secure connection with the shore." - -"I don't see how you can chop them from here," said Mrs. Mink. - -"True. That is a difficulty." - -There was a pause. A green and scarlet parrot was swearing at us from -where he swung on a vine above the bank. I leaned on the rail and -listened to the parrot and considered his point of view. - -"Professor," I said at last; "this is a world of compensations. There's -compensation in your not understanding the dialect of that parrot. His -clothes are handsome, but his language is bad. You are religious and -ascetic, and he's a worldling. I'm a worldling, too, but I can swim, and -I see compensations." - -"Let's have breakfast," said Mrs. Mink. - -After breakfast I swam ashore with an axe, climbed the bank, selected -four tall slender palms that leaned in the direction of the _Violetta_'s -after-deck, and hacked them down. Two of them fell on the _Violetta_ -and damaged her rail, but stuck where they fell. The professor roped the -ends to a capstan, and crossed that sagging bridge, respectably calm, -dragging after him the long end of the rope, which we fastened to a -tree. The _Violetta_ was moored. - -Mrs. Mink came, too, nervous but firm. - -What a woman! Practical, foreseeing, sagacious, she will walk the -tight-rope of any catastrophe. In fact, she brought a hammock and a -cushion with her. Norah's method of crossing somewhat resembled shinning -a pole. ON recollection, I should say that she yelled. - -When Professor Simpson and I set out to explore the island, Norah was -throwing stones at the green and red parrot, and Mrs. Mink lay in -the hammock, not understanding that parrot's dialect, which I didn't -understand altogether myself, but it appeared to me he was blistering -the foliage with it. - -The island was some three to five miles around by the coast, and -no other land was in sight from it, barring a slight bump on the -southeastern horizon which might be another small island, or might -be Mont Pele. It appeared we had been blown some distance during the -night. There were no inhabitants at the time, or we found none, though -there were two groups of sorry huts not far from the beach, and frequent -paths through the woods, showing occasional occupancy. - -We came back by the northern shore of the bay, and saw that the -_Violetta_ was safe. We stood some moments in silence. The wind had -risen again and now blew hard from the west, so that the _Violetta_ -was protected on a lee shore, though where we stood the waves rolled in -tumultuously. Professor Simpson broke the silence. He suddenly planted -himself before me, his hands on his hips, and frowned. - -Now, a frown that is directed upward has the law of gravitation against -it. Professor Simpson's shortness incommoded him in that respect. - -"It is not my habit, Dr. Ulswater," he began, "to brook impertinent -opposition or light-minded interference. In, therefore, announcing my -intention to invite Mrs. Mink to the alliance of marriage, I consider -that no more need be said. I wish to be relieved of this undignified -rivalry, and to avail myself of this situation to fulfil my purpose in -peace. I demand that your too noticeable attentions shall cease. Your -attitude toward Mrs. Mink is offensive to me. I repeat, sir, they must -cease." - -Extraordinary professor! Never was another like him. He was a species. - -"But," I said, feebly; "look here. I've already been at Mrs. Mink on -that subject myself. I was thinking it was a good time to work up to it -again." - -"I object to your giving Mrs. Mink that annoyance. Her preference for me -is perfectly plain. You are without personal attractions." - -"What!" - -"You are too fat." - -"But, professor! On the other hand, ought not the fact of your being a -contemptible little dried-up molecule, with the temper of a mosquito and -the humour of a codfish ball, oughtn't that--now really, oughtn't -that fact to be given some weight in the discussion? I appeal to you, -professor?" - -"Sir!" - -He clenched his fists. It was a critical and perilous moment. Did he or -did he not intend an attack on my diaphragm? Should I or should I not be -presently seated on top of him like a bolster on a crab? - -There is a Haitian proverb which says, "It's when the wind blows that -you see the skin of a hen." - -Professor Simpson drew a long breath, and suddenly laid himself flat on -the ground, extended his arms and legs and closed his eyes. - -"I was somewhat heated," he murmured. "To allay any mental strain, such -as vexation or anger, extend the body, relax the muscles, and endeavour -to abstract the mind from surroundings. The effect is invariable. Let -me recommend it to you. There!" he said, after a moment, getting to his -feet. "I am quite calm. And now, clearly, Dr. Ulswater, clearly, we -must submit it to Mrs. Mink. I suggest, then, that we ask her for -a half-hour's interview each. Subsequently, she will announce her -decision, and thus we will conclude our dispute." - -I agreed. We went amicably along the shore of the bay toward the -_Violetta_. - -Norah was in the hammock, but Mrs. Mink had gone aboard again, and stood -by the rail looking toward us. The yacht lay on a lee shore, and there -the water was fairly calm; but the force of the wind, in spite of the -protection of the trees, was such now as to put some strain on the rope -which stretched taut to the bank. - -"In half an hour, then," said Professor Simpson, "you will be at liberty -to interrupt me." - -He was over the bridge while I was figuring on the discrepancy,--the -something not quite predestined,--in his having the first shot,--that is -to say, the first opportunity,--of presenting his case to Mrs. Mink. I -was going to propose we should flip a coin for it. He was a wonder, a -wonder! I called out to Mrs. Mink, asking for an interview in half an -hour. She looked surprised. I went back among the trees, and wished -I were a Presbyterian, and watched, during that long half-hour, the -minutes slowly passing on the cold unfeeling face of my watch. I allowed -the full time and went back. - -Professor Simpson was still arguing. I concluded, comfortably, that his -argument had not, as yet, convinced Mrs. Mink. They stood by the rail, -near the straining rope that fastened the yacht to the bank. - -"Professor," I called, "your time's up. I'm coming aboard." - -He raised his hands. He was excited. He cried: - -"I have not concluded! Mrs. Mink! A few moments more! No, no! I refuse -to be interrupted." - -Mrs. Mink said nothing. Her expression of face was the expression of -an interested spectator. It seemed to say: "Which of you is going to do -something?" I went toward the bridge. He wrung his hands. His excitement -became intense. - -"It is critical, sir, critical! Your conduct is inconsiderate, -offensive! I insist!" - -Suddenly he disappeared below the rail. - -He rose again. An axe was aloft in both his hands. He rushed at the -rope. He struck! The miserable little pirate! He chopped the rope, the -infinitesimal assassin! - -The yacht keeled over, under pressure of the gale, and Mrs. Mink and -Professor Simpson disappeared. Probably they slid to the other side. -The bridge was dragged after the yacht. I was nearly on it, and all but -pitched from the bank into the water. Norah sat up and yelled. The green -parrot climbed down and swore. The _Violetta_ regained her level and -drifted rapidly away. - -I picked up the axe that had been used to fell the palm trees, and ran -along the shore. It was an action not suited to my physique. I had to -stop and take breath. - -"However," I reflected, "he's done for himself. Mrs. Mink won't stand -for it. Or--or, will she?" - -At the same time I did not like a rival so fertile in expedients, nor -the fact that he and Mrs. Mink were both Presbyterians. - -The yacht was not driving in the direction of the open sea, but across -the bay, nearly toward the spot where Professor Simpson and I had had -our first altercation. - - - - -CHAPTER VII--THIRD ADVENTURE - - -|WHEN I reached the place, the prow of the _Violetta_ had already run -aground, and the stern had swung about, dragging the attached tree -trunks after it, so that the yacht lay in something like its former -position, parallel to the shore, but further off, the shelve being here -more gradual. Moreover, she was now on a windward shore, the waves of -considerable height and force, and, being balanced, so to speak, on her -keel, she oscillated, descending now on this side toward the shore, now -on that side away from me, through an arc of some forty degrees. The -situation I beheld with mingled emotions, both soothed and lacerated, -soothed on account of Professor Simpson's condign punishment, lacerated -on account of Mrs. Mink. Their cries were heard above the tumult. They -clung to the landward rail, which went up and down like a teeter, or a -ducking stool, regular as a pendulum, terrific, but distressing. - -"For goodness' sake, doctor, do something!" cried Mrs. Mink; and -Professor Simpson shrieked: "Can you not assist? I entreat! I adjure! Do -not----" - -He was interrupted. - -Something had to be done. - -The two tree trunks attached to the stern had been driven about, so that -the butts rested on the bottom, in the midst of the surf. Being dragged -back and forth by the motion of the yacht, and at the same time tossed -by the surf, the result was a somewhat complicated motion. To get -through the surf was no great difficulty, for two hundred and odd pounds -of determination. But to draw the butts together, to climb them beyond -reach of the surf, to maintain the uneasy position so gained, astride -those two insane, rotatory, and indecorous poles,--wabbled, danced, -dandled, jerked about in the air by that eccentric and -careening-viaduct, whose leaps, halts, and rebounds resembled the -kicking of a restive mule or a series of railroad collisions--this was -achievement, this was a goal and effort worthy of a man! - -I succeeded. Clinging to the logs with hands and knees, I looked up. -Mrs. Mink and the professor hung over the shattered rail above me. I -shouted: - -"Come on! I'll meet you." - -"But I can't walk _that!_" she called back. "It doesn't keep still." - -"Walk it! No!" I roared. "Creep it, madam! Shin it! Roll it! Come -anyway, and don't fall off." - -She laughed. - -Admirable woman! For self-possession, spirit, and sense, where is her -equal? She mounted, clung, approached. I clasped her, slid back to the -edge of the surf, lifted her, rushed, waded, forced my way to land. -She was wet. I was winded. I admit both. Stretched on the ground I felt -particularly indifferent to any accident, to anything whatever, that -might happen to Professor Simpson. Suddenly I was aware of him. Cast up -by an ebullient wave, he sprawled on the shore and sprang to his feet, -crying, - -"A miraculous escape! I would not have believed myself so agile." - -Mrs. Mink looked from one to the other of us, and began to laugh. - -"I am delighted," he said, shaking himself, "my dear Rebecca, to see you -in such composure." - -I got up. I spoke with dignity. - -"Do I understand, sir, that you've profited by your treachery?" - -He looked disturbed. - -"Mrs. Mink has--nevertheless I am not without----" - -I interrupted and turned to Mrs. Mink. - -"You approved of this gentleman's behaviour?" - -"What behaviour? Well! It was bright of him, anyway." - -"You knew of the agreement between us?" - -"Of course, you were going to propose to me next. Fiddlesticks! You've -done that before? What made you let him come first? You shouldn't let -people run over you." - -"You were to reserve your decision, madam." - -"Humph! I didn't agree to that. Perhaps he's willing to begin over -again." - -Professor Simpson started. - -"Mrs. Mink speaks in jest. It would be unprecedented, impossible." We -paused. - -"Well?" said Mrs. Mink. - -"Well, madam?" - -"What are you going to do?" - -"I see you like men of strenuous action, Mrs. Mink," I said. "Would it, -do you think? would it insinuate me somewhat into your favour if I were -to take this axe and strenuously chop Professor Simpson's head in two -symmetrical but characteristic parts?" - -Professor Simpson looked aghast. - -"Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Mink. - -"Not feasible, you think? Perhaps not. Suppose, then, I were to cut a -switch and apply it to Professor Simpson's attenuated legs. Could you -candidily recommend that, Mrs. Mink?" - -"I will not submit, sir!" he cried. "I will not submit!" - -Mrs. Mink turned and walked rapidly away. - -"Professor," I said, taking out my waterproof match-safe and extracting -several matches, "you will take these matches and see that Mrs. Mink is -comfortable. Our rescuers will find us in time, no doubt. Until then you -will respect my privacy. I seek no revenge and offer no congratulations. -I don't inquire into your standards of integrity. I don't see, unless -your system of ethics is fundamentally unsound, how you can reconcile -to morality this reward of victorious evil. But I leave it to your -casuistry." - -It seemed to me this was a poisoned arrow well planted. I had set him -a problem likely to irritate his exact mind. I picked up the axe and -walked up the shore in the opposite direction. - -The afternoon was growing late. I kindled a fire to dry my clothes, -felled a banana tree, and ate bananas. Across the bay I could make out -the smoke of the other camp fire. The _Violetta_ still swayed back and -forth, but not so violently, on her keel. The wind still blew, but the -air was warm. I sat by the fire and took inventory of things in general. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII--PROFESSOR SIMPSON AGAIN - - -|AEQUAM memento," I reflected, "rebus in arduis." - -After all, marriage would disturb my pursuits. A man with a liquid and -non-resistant name like "Ulswater," with a fleshy and floating physique, -with a mind as full of refuse as a sargasso sea, and whiskers resembling -sargasso,--when he proposes to ally himself in marriage to a woman -like Mrs. Mink, whose rational instincts--as a capable and neat -housekeeper--would be to trim his whiskers and rearrange his nature, -to tidy up his mind and sweep it, hang antimacassars over its chairs, -polish its andirons, fling the cuspidor out of the window, and can the -tropical fruitage of his character into jellies and jams in glass jars -with screw tops and rubber bands,--when such a man has in mind such an -alliance, if fate prevents, if an agile Presbyterian professor is one -too many for him, what should he do but remark, "_Aequam memento rebus -in arduis servare mentem_," that is, "In trouble take it easy," and then -immediately proceed to swear himself black in the face, and wish for a -green and red parrot to take up the job after him? - -Precisely. Also I dried my clothes and whistled. Time passed on, and -it was perhaps six o'clock. Suddenly, as I looked up, Professor Simpson -stood before me, alone. - -"Professor," I said, "you intrude." - -He seated himself on the fallen trunk of the banana tree. - -"I am compelled to do so," he said. "Mrs. Mink objects to the present -arrangement; whether on the score of propriety, or because she regards -my protection as inadequate, I cannot say, I refuse to discuss. It is a -matter, in either case, humiliating to myself. She demands the return of -Dr. Uls-water." - -"I am sorry for Mrs. Mink's feelings," I said, "but I seem to see a lack -of consideration for mine." - -"I have stated Mrs. Mink's attitude without commenting upon it," he went -on. "As regards my own, there is much more to be said. I cannot conceal -from myself that the terms you have applied to my late ill-regulated -conduct would, if properly qualified and defined, in the main be just. -I am, further, upon Mrs. Mink's own declaration, forced to believe that -her consent not for the present to decline my suit, but to consider -it, perhaps favourably, was entirely due to that very action which -my conscience compels me to deplore. She was attracted by that very -deviation from rectitude into which I was tempted and fell. She states -that she was about to decline my proposal absolutely, finally, when my -action revealed to her my character, as she says, in a new light. Not -to my position in the scientific world, my well-earned repute, not to -my worthier qualities of mind and heart, not to her conviction of these -claims, can her capitulation--if such it was--be attributed. You will -understand my distress at this admission made by Mrs. Mink. I fear -to infer, and yet I must infer, a want of seriousness, of strict -conscience, on the part of Mrs. Mink. I showed her my distress, I -intimated my fear, I begged her to allay it, to consider, to recollect -the facts more carefully. She became angry and asked if I repented -cutting the rope. I defined my position. She interrupted, refused to -listen, and said that my proposal was now declined. I endeavoured -to reason, to supplement argument by argument. She prevented me; she -commanded me to go and insist on Dr. Ulswater's return. Such has been my -recent painful conversation with Mrs. Mink, concluding with the command -which has caused this intrusion upon you." - -"Don't apologise," I said, gaily, getting up. "You repent and withdraw, -I forgive and forget." - -"I have admitted repentance but not withdrawal," he said, angrily, "and -I refuse your impertinent forgiveness." - -"Come along, professor," I said. "Refuse and admit what you like till -the crack of doom. I've got business on hand." - -He followed after dejectedly. - -As we drew near, we saw Mrs. Mink, with Norah, standing on the high -bank and looking seaward. She saw us, cried out, pointed, and waved her -handkerchief. A small steam vessel was entering the bay. It was Captain -Jansen and the crew looking for us and for the vagrant _Violetta_. - - - - -CHAPTER IX--CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S FIRST MANUSCRIPT - - -|THE _Violetta_ was towed out into deep water. Captain Jansen used some -badly broken English on the condition of his starboard rail. Not but -that he had expected more damage than he found, but damaging a ship -by chopping a tree down upon her, hurt him in a sensitive point of -seamanship. - -There seemed to be no leakage, for all that war-dance with the elements, -and mad teetering on a windward shore. Still he preferred to pass the -night in the bay--the weather being uncertain--and tow the _Violetta_ on -the morrow to St. Pierre for repairs. - -It was evening, and I stood watching the moon rise peacefully and look -down on the gleaming but troubled waters of the little bay. Placid and -poetic she went up among her attendant stars. The wooded shore lay about -us dark and mysterious. - -"Let me," I said to myself, "recapitulate. Presbyterianism is -insufficient. Scientific celebrity is insufficient. The precise -conscience and balance of rectitude are to the lover as a wire twitchup -to the hungry rabbit. Action, sharp decision, the habit, so to speak, of -getting there, these are what appeal to Mrs. Mink." - -Now, along those lines Professor Simpson was no slouch of a rival. In -point of character he was hard as nails; in decision and action he was -energetic and exact. Yet he had failed. He had speared himself, as it -were, on the angle of an impractical conscience. But where did I -come in? I, who in point of character was a semiliquid jelly fish, an -invertebrate protozoan, whose nature was to float on the heaving and -uncertain sea of humour, bathed in the moonlight of poetry, devouring -the chance drift of knowledge, sucking philosophy out of rock; -whose centre of personality was loose; whose mind was as untidy as a -cuttlefish; how could I appeal to Mrs. Mink? On the evidence so far, I -had but one strong point, namely a practical conscience, a conscience -which, having always treated me with a great deal of--shall I say, with -a great deal of tact?--was a conscience that---- - -At this point in my reflection Mrs. Mink came on deck. - -When doubtful in whist, play trumps. When doubtful in any other -situation, ask Mrs. Mink. Her counsel is always trumps. - -"Mrs. Mink," I said, as she came and stood beside me at the rail, "I am -in doubt." - -"What about?" - -"The question is this: If a disorderly cuttlefish has proposed marriage -to one of those small neat birds who yet have the knack of making -themselves at home in a wilderness of waves, and by sailors are called -'Mother Carey's chickens'; if so far as the cuttlefish can see he has -only succeeded in producing in Mother Carey's chicken a state of -unconvinced reflection; if he knows his structure to be floppy and his -nature sloppy, what, in fact, do you think he should do?" - -"I don't think you're a cuttlefish." - -"Ha! I don't insist on the figure." - -"You're dreadfully untidy." - -"I am." - -Mrs. Mink was silent. - -"Should I imitate Professor Simpson to the summit of Presbyterianism, or -a green parrot to the bottom of reprobation? Should I----" - -"I don't like Professor Simpson, or the green parrot either." - -"Well, then, what do you think we had better do next?" - -Mrs. Mink was long silent. At last she said, thoughtfully: - -"I think we'd better go to Trinidad." - -"What for?" - -"Why, they're English in Trinidad, aren't they?" - -"Good God, madam! what if they are?" - -"You mustn't talk that way!" she said, sharply. "Of course Catholics may -be good men, but, still, I shouldn't like it in French." - -"Like what?" - -"We'd better be married in Trinidad." - -There you are, satisfactory, inclusive, concise! I ask: "How shall I -attain my soul's desire?" She answers: "Be married in Trinidad." - -We left Professor Simpson at St. Pierre. He was intending to climb Mont -Pele and extract knowledge from its oracular mouth. If that solemn, -grim, stony, and sometimes irascible sphinx of a volcano started in -to talk to him, it's possible that the volcano had the last of the -argument. Perhaps not. I haven't heard. He was a very persistent -logician. Maybe he meant to cast himself forlornly into the crater. -The idea is luminous, romantic. But I think, on the whole, that he did -nothing of the kind. - -Mrs. Mink says she would never have accepted him, and was merely vexed -to see him outwit me, which it must be admitted he did. But my feelings -are like those of a man who has succeeded by a narrow margin. - -We lie now in harbour at Trinidad, whose green hills rise sumptuously -out of the blue of the Caribbean. The future promises all happiness and -varied interests; among which interests, I suspect, will be the coming -Mrs. Ulswater's masterly reorganisation of me. Do I flatter myself, -or does she, as it almost seems, look forward to that task with real -enthusiasm? Wonderful woman! - -Adieu--Ulswater. - -P. S. The argument from analogy was the sound one--the tropics, the -temperate zone, and the intentions of Providence. Convince her of your -imperative need of her, and you have made the imperative appeal. So far -I see. - - - - -CHAPTER X--SECOND DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: SUSANNAH - - -Malay Peninsula, _June._ - -|FOREVER shall my voice bear testimony to Mrs. Ulswater. She has -gathered the races about her knee. The races didn't all stay there, but -it's just as well they didn't. She has faced the hoary wisdom of the -East, and subdued it. At the present writing Wisdom still acts as if he -felt subdued. - -Mrs. Ulswater was impatient to reach the far eastern mission field. She -wished to see in action the process by which people, whose souls were -naturally darkened by the opaqueness of their skins, become enlightened. -This opinion as to the origin of idolatry I drew from Mrs. Ulswater with -some difficulty. She held the theory, indeed, dimly, subconsciously. It -was new to me. It is a theory worth examining for its latent mysticism. -To what does it logically lead? If intelligence tends to increase with -the transparency of the fleshly integument, wouldn't I be cleverer -if not so fat? _C'est un grand peut-tre_. But I'm getting thinner. -Bismillah! - -I have in my life pursued many ideals. I have hitched my wagon to -certain stars. Some of the blanked things were comets, and some of them -went out as unregretted as a bad cigar. Now I cling henceforward to this -domestic light and floating fireside of the _Violetta_. No man has so -entire a footing in the universe as he whose stockings are darned by a -woman with a logical mind. I am not myself a vertebrate. Mrs. Ulswater -is my complement. I am complete. I am satisfied. I am at rest. - -My family has increased. It now consists of Mrs. Ulswater, an orphan -girl, and an orphan pundit. But I go too fast. - -On the 13th of last April, we put in at the island of Clementina, which -lies to the north of Mozambique Channel. - -"Now," said I to Mrs. Ulswater, "I am complete. I am satisfied. I am at -rest. But why Clementina?" - -I was presented with and referred to a pamphlet or periodical, in fact, -a quarterly. It appeared to be devoted to the reports of missionary -labours. It is a branch of literature never by me thoroughly -investigated. Mrs. Ulswater has a remarkable series of these pamphlets, -covering more than ten years. A veritable find! - -Now, in this number of the periodical in question, about two years old, -was an illustrated article by one Mr. Tupper, a missionary, describing -an orphan-asylum in the island of Clementina, and ah! so feelingly, with -such pleasant details of the names and prospects of individual orphans, -that I quickly shared the interest of Mrs. Ulswater. We wished to make -the acquaintance of the following orphans, to wit, the orphan named -"Susannah," the orphan named "Thaddeus," and the orphan named "James," -and the orphans "Caleb," "Zillah," "Stephen," and "Naomi," these -apparently being the seven beneficiaries of the establishment. - -"Susannah," wrote Mr. Tupper, "is characterised by great vigour of mind, -and by astuteness, if not perhaps by invariable serenity. She is -the daughter of the late Rev. Mr. Romney of Georgia, U. S. A., my -predecessor at this mission, who with his devoted wife died of an -epidemic fever some eight years ago. Upon my arrival I found the orphans -in a state most distressingly uncivilised. There are perils in this -remote corner of the world, but hunger and cold are not among them. -Little shelter is necessary, and food is to be had for the taking. -Physically, a child can grow up and thrive almost unregarded." - -And so on, most interesting remarks by Mr. Tupper. - -Clementina looked like a comfortable island. We recognised the port, and -the high green hill, which the illustrations pictured as the site of the -mission. - -The _Violetta_ was anchored not far from the shore. Mrs. Ulswater and I -were landed on the white beach under the hill. We climbed the hill. -"On the very crest," in the words of Mr. Tupper's description, stood "a -cluster of bamboo cottages hidden in foliage." The Asylum! - -_Horribile dicta!_ - -"Well," said Mrs. Ulswater, "I never!" - -The cottages were empty! Nay, ruined, decadent, most of the roofs -fallen! Eight decrepit bamboo structures in a row! The traces of a lawn, -now faded into wilderness! Oh, neglect and desolation! What had we here? -An orphaned orphanage! Most ridiculous of asylums! - -A hen fled yelling across the open. In the wake of, in pursuit of, this -hen, there rapidly wriggled out of the thicket seven scratched, and -scarcely to be called clothed, individuals. My impression was immediate. - -I said, "They are the orphans!" - -They were. They sprang up in line. They bowed. They shouted with -remarkable unison: - -"Good morning, sir! Good morning, ma'am!" - -We gasped. We were astounded. "Well," said Mrs. Ulswater, "I never!" - -They began to sing. They sang, in point of fact, as follows: - - " Pull for the shore, sailor! - - Pull for the shore! " - -all except for one orphan, from whose rounded mouth detonated the -statement, "I'm a pilgrim, I'm a stranger," whose globular face was -slapped with incredible rapidity by the girl who stood next him, at the -head of the line, and who sang on imperiously, though the rest of the -chorus broke down: - - " Heed not the rolling waves, - - But bend to the oar." - -She had lank limbs, and the unmistakable features of an Aryan. I should -have described her offhand as a "personage." - -"Susannah!" cried Mrs. Ulswater. "Don't tell me you're not!" - -"Present!" said Susannah. - -"Thaddeus?" - -"Present!" from the globular pilgrim and stranger. - -"James?" - -"Present!" - -James stood at the other end of the line. He was the smallest, Susannah -the tallest, and Thaddeus the fattest of the orphans. "Caleb?" - -"Present!" - -"Naomi?" - -"Present!" - -"Zillah?" - -"Present!" - -"Stephen?" - -"Present!" - -Very good. There they were. - -But alas! it was a run-down, abandoned asylum. Mr. Tupper, that talented -descriptive author, had died some six months before, of the fever that -seemed to be resident, or sporadic, in the island. - -I discovered, at Port Clementina, a sort of governor or prefect, who -seemed to be officially resident, and by nature sporadic, incidental. -He was the calmest official in the Indian Ocean. There were vast vacant -spaces in his mind. He did not know there were any orphans now at the -asylum. He had understood there wasn't any asylum left. In any case, why -not? In every conceivable case, why not? He had supposed they had all -grown up, or disappeared, or fallen off something, or died of the fever, -or snakes, or been adopted by natives, or something. Why not? In point -of fact, now he came to think of it, he had not supposed anything about -it whatever. Were they indeed still running around up there? Name of -God! How amusing! - -Mrs. Ulswater was indignant. - -The population of Clementina is of extremely mixed blood. That Susannah -was of Caucasian extraction--age fifteen or so; that Thaddeus also was -of some northern ancestry, by his light hair, high cheek-bones, -and slightly piggy eyes; that James was a diminutive Malayan--as I -judged--age perhaps eight; and the rest miscellaneous African, Arab, -French, and what not--all this argues a curious history for the -island; which history I had no time to investigate, on account of Mrs. -Ulswater's indignation. - -Under the force of this indignation the orphans were swept swiftly -aboard the _Violetta_. The hen, above mentioned, also came along with -the current. The name of the hen is "Georgiana Tupper." Mrs. Ulswater -accomplished it in this way. She made an alliance with Susannah. The -orphans were promptly aboard, Again, good! There they were. - -The following morning they weren't. We found only Susannah still with -us and Georgiana Tupper. The rest were gone, vanished forever. Captain -Jansen approached us, and touched his cap. - -"Yes'm. They yump; I hear 'em go yump, one, two, dree, four, six, un -I get out dey boat, un dose gone swim ashore, un her don' yump. I don' -know." - -Mrs. Ulswater turned on Susannah. "What made them jump?" - -Said Susannah: "They ain't any good, those niggers. They're 'fraid." - -"Afraid of what?" - -"Oh, they're just 'fraid to go. Their insides are all mush and dassent." - -"You're not afraid, Susannah?" - -"Me!" - -Singular, scornful maid! - -We were unable to find the miscellaneous again. Apparently they hid, -preferring the incidental or sporadic life of Clementina. With this -diminished orphanage, we set over the Indian Ocean, seeking another -asylum for Susannah. - -I found at Clementina a curious variety of the Asteroidea or star fish. - -You never saw the beat of Susannah. - - - - -CHAPTER XI--RAM NAD - - -|IT was at Colombo in Ceylon that we met with Ram Nad. I asked for him -in the market place, and found him. He was sitting on a cobblestone, and -leaning over his basket, asleep. - -My acquaintance with Ram Nad began many years ago. Somewhere in my -indefinite and unmapped past, I once lived on the island of Ceylon, and -knew Ram Nad. He was by faith a Buddhist, by nature a painstaking liar, -by profession a medical practitioner, or quasi-physician,--not of the -allopathic school, nor of the homeopathic, but of the heteropathic -and absurd. But he practised sleight-of-hand tricks and mesmerism in a -manner that roused my profound respect. We exchanged informations, and I -had a great affection for him in those days. - -Even then he looked like a mixture of Abraham and an early Christian -martyr, with some resemblance to a sheep. - -I took him aboard the _Violetta_ in order to get his advice respecting -the orphan-asylums of his native land. - -Ram Nad already knew himself to be more vertebrate and sagacious than I, -but he did not know Mrs. Ulswater. - -The harbour at Colombo is no harbour, but an open roadstead, though -quiet at that time. - - " The spicy breezes blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle, - - And every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.' - -The hymnal says so, but I don't agree with it. Three-quarters of Ceylon -is an abomination of swamp, sand, and jungle, with a most pestilential -and vile climate; whereas the normal Cingalese person is the mildest, -most peaceful and pious agriculturist that's to be found. - -Ram Nad wore a blue head cloth. The rest of his clothes were meant to -be white, like his beard. He squatted behind his basket. Mrs. Ulswater -rocked in her rocking-chair, knitting, looking at Ram Nad as if she did -not make out how to begin benefiting him. She examined Ram Nad, who -in turn examined Susannah, who in turn was, at that moment, playing -jackstraws. - -Ram Nad said there were no orphan-asylums in Ceylon that he could truly -recommend, which sounded conscientious. - -He continued: But for himself, he said, he was a lonely man; desolate -and empty was his house of the beautiful gardens; he was desirous -of children in his old age. The excellent Mrs. Ulswater--might her -benevolence be rewarded! the learned Dr. Ulswater--might his folly -and ignorance have been by time corrected!--he hoped these all would -understand his immaculate motives. For what said the Great Teacher? -"Let parents train their children, and their memories be honoured by -the same: let the husband give his wife kindness, together with suitable -ornaments and clothes, and let her be a thrifty housekeeper; finally, -let the pupils give attention, and the teacher instruct them in -knowledge." The girl, he said, pleased him; therefore it was possible -that he might in righteous charity adopt her, instruct her. By a -singular accident he had but yesterday taken a solemn vow to adopt a -child to his old age; many had been witness to this vow. - -Mrs. Ulswater looked thoughtful. She rather wanted Susannah brought up -Presbyterian. "He quotes Scripture very well," she whispered to me. "It -sounds queer, but maybe it's his clothes." But she seemed disturbed, and -looked away at Susannah, who played jackstraws. - -I reflected vaguely about Ram Nad, on the different kinds of guile he -was equal to, and how if he went off with Susannah, the Indian Ocean -would seem less entertaining. Mrs. Ulswater appeared worried. - -Ram Nad waived the point, or appeared to. He said he would, if we liked, -display some marvels for our instruction, while further considering. -Then he opened a few common tricks. - -He took Mrs. Ulswater's sewing, threw it over the rail into the sea, -picked it out of the inner folds of his turban, and returned it. Then he -thrust Mrs. Ulswater's knitting needles down my throat and drew them one -by one from the pit of my diaphragm. It seemed so, sufficiently so. In -fact, it made me feel unwell. He induced Susannah to enter his enormous -conical basket, covered her and stirred inside with his hand, with a -violent circular motion, as one beats eggs with a spoon--took off the -cover, disclosed the interior, and shook it bottom up. No Susannah -there! - -He covered it, stirred again--eggs and spoons--turned it over, lifted it -again. There sat Susannah on the deck, safe but indignant. - -"You punched me!" she cried, and then turned distracted to clutch at the -small of her back. Mrs. Ulswater came to her help, and unbuttoning her -frock took out the jackstraws. They seemed to have been dropped down her -neck. Susannah was furious. - -Ram Nad next seated himself opposite her, and fell to crooning and -spooning with both hands--two spoons, infinite eggs. - -Mrs. Ulswater said, "Well, I never!" Even I may possibly have -ejaculated, "Ha!" - -The eyes of Susannah became fixed, her form rigid. Ram Nad stroked his -beard, Susannah the front of her frock. He sighed, she sighed. "Roll!" -She rolled; she kept on rolling; she rolled across the deck and brought -up in the scuppers, where she struggled to continue rolling. "Roll -back!" She rolled back. "Sit up!" She sat up. He fell to crooning and -waving--reversed spoons and a reaching after dispersed eggs. Susannah -blinked, relapsed, awoke. - -Remarkable maid, Susannah, strenuous, decided. She dashed at Ram Nad. -She snatched off his head cloth. She flung it in his face. She fled to -Mrs. Ulswater and wept loudly in her arms. - -Ram Nad looked surprised and partly martyred. - -"Nevertheless, I am not displeased," he said, picking up his head cloth. -"I will take her to my house of beautiful gardens." - -"Indeed you won't!" cried Mrs. Ulswater. "You ought to be ashamed of -yourself." - -Ram Nad bowed his head, pulled his beard, and covered himself with -meekness. I suggested to Mrs. Ulswater that there was a Cingalese point -of view. - -"Surely," Ram Nad, ineffably mild. "We say no more, excellent -Mrs. Ulswater. Other orphans are elsewhere to be found and the vow -accomplished. But now, if permitted, I go, and return soon with gifts -of fruit plucked in the gardens of my house, that our happiness may be -complete as the meeting of long-parted friends, pleasant as to the bee -is the honey of the flower." - -It was all gammon about his house. He had no property except his trick -outfit in a basket, his moderate but amusing clothes, and a lien on a -cobblestone in the market. Mrs. Ulswater observed him quietly. I didn't -make out what she thought of his handsome remarks. - -He was rowed ashore in the gig, and came back later in a misshaped -Cingalese canoe, kilted fore and aft, with two coolies for rowers, who -promptly departed. He fished pomegranates and pineapples out of his -basket, and was very pleasant. He begged to be allowed to sleep on a -deck rug beneath our palatial awning. He said it was the custom of the -country. So it was, granted a rug and awning were handy. He talked a -number of kinds of gammon, and he knew I knew it was gammon. But, then, -I allowed that a Cingalese of his age and acquirements had a right to be -mythological in his statements. - -Oh, Ram Nad, friend of my earlier days! I'm free to admit your standards -of virtuous conduct were ever in some respects obscure, not to say too -much for me. - - - - -CHAPTER XII--RAM NAD CONTINUED - - -|MY family at midnight lay asleep in their staterooms. The Indian moon -shone on the _Violetta_, which lay lifting slowly with the swell. The -watchman sat forward. Ram Nad, with his chief garment wrapped about -his head, was stretched on a rug on the lee side and just above the -portholes of the stateroom occupied by Susannah. - -I was awakened by Mrs. Ulswater's suddenly pulling my arm. It was near -three o'clock in the morning. - -"Listen!" she whispered. "Now, wait!" To my bewildered sense became now -audible the sound of soft, regular steps in the outer cabin and on the -cabin stairs leading to the deck. I arose softly. - -I saw Susannah in her long night garment, of Mrs. Ulswater's making, -stiffly mounting the stairs with a military step! and beyond her, on -the moonlit deck, whom but Ram Nad, white-bearded, blue-turbaned, -white-garmented, beckoning, retreating! I was about to advance, when -at that moment Mrs. Ulswater shrieked loudly in my ear, and Ram Nad, -running forward, sharply shut and bolted the cabin door. An instant's -silence followed, then shouts and swift feet running aft. I rushed -to the port-hole. Past it and past my face went a swiftly falling and -fluttering body, which splashed in the sea. Was it Ram Nad? Was it -Susannah? Mrs. Ulswater was beating the door with her hands and crying: -"Catch that man, Captain Jansen! Catch that man!" Distressing moment! -Norah came from her room and mingled her voice in the tumult. But there -we were, locked in. - -The cabin door was opened. Captain Jansen's comfortable bearded face -appeared, "Yes, 'm. But he yump for das boat. He gone ofer." - -"Then catch the boat. Quick!" - -"Yes'm. But I got das boat mit un grapple." - -We all emerged on the warm night, on the moonlit deck. The women had -donned their shawls. This was the situation. - -Ram Nad's misshaped and kilted canoe was held fast, and one end lifted -from the water by a grappling-iron, at which a sailor was tugging with -a rope over the rail. The two black heads of his rowers were just -above the water at some distance, moving hastily shoreward, their wakes -shining in the moonlight. Ram Nad was nowhere in sight. Susannah stood -on deck, the watchman forward sat stiff and motionless--both of them -rigid, frozen, mesmerised, wrapped up in his or her inner consciousness -like a ball of yarn. - -"There!" said Mrs. Ulswater. "He didn't get Susannah. Doctor, we must go -away from this place. I don't like it." - -"We can weigh anchor," I said, "surely, now as well as any time. But, my -dear, as to these ossified unfortunates, I don't quite see. I'm no Ph. -D. Mahatma, nor yet a brindle cat, hell-broth witch. It's mortifying, -but that's my limit. I'm not on to Ram Nad's spoon motion, nor yet his -lullaby. Hadn't we better wait and find another magician that knows how -to untwist the charm? Because Ram Nad appears to be drowned, and these -two, according to my notion, are, as you might say, tied up particularly -tight." - -Mrs. Ulswater tried to wake Susannah, but could not. She was indignant. -She thought that I treated the subject too lightly, in language I ought -to be ashamed of, that there was nothing funny about it. Maybe not. I -gave it up. I thought the situation was not without a certain sepulchral -but natural gayety. - -"Ashamed" I take to be a vertebrate condition. I never could fetch it. -It's left out of me. I've got no centre of personality, no angles to my -circumference on which to hitch a conviction of sin, never could seem -to get hold of that kind of embarrassment. Calling myself a series of -conventionally derogatory and ineffective names is the nearest I can -come to remorse. But speaking impersonally, no doubt Mrs. Ulswater was -right. - -At this point Captain Jansen called: "He's yump in! Yes, 'm. He's yump!" - -We ran to the rail. There Ram Nad sat in his kilted canoe, wringing the -water from his garments. - -Mrs. Ulswater said, "You come up here right away!" - -He seemed unwilling, but Captain Jansen dropped a rope ladder, and -the sailor jerked on the grapnel, rendering his position untenable. He -yielded and came, wearing an expression of injured meekness. He yielded -to Mrs. Ulswater's command. He spooned and crooned Susannah and the -watchman into normal condition, and retired hastily to some distance, -holding on to his head cloth, avoiding Susannah. - -Mrs. Ulswater now reduced matters to order. The indignant Susannah was -persuaded to bed. Ram Nad was put under guard. Mrs. Ulswater and Norah -retired. - -The anchor was raised. The _Violetta_ got under steam. We glided away -into the Indian Ocean. I remained on deck reflecting, inhaling the -soft breath of the dawn, gazing at the fair palace of the -night,--how marvellously roofed and lit, how floored with sparkling -mosaic,--considering two things which equally excited my admiration, -namely, the constitution of this world and Mrs. Ulswater. - -I conversed with Ram Nad. - -As far as I could gather from Ram Nad, he had first gotten into -conversation with the watch, and mesmerised that: Norwegian, after which -he had hung himself down from the rail and mesmerised Susannah through -the port-hole. A subtle performance! He did not dare enter the cabin, -having a nervous fear of Mrs. Ulswater. Mrs. Ulswater's emphatic cry had -roused the crew. He had plunged over, and, rising, clutched the edge of -the boat; which being grappled and the coolies fled, he had submitted, -first to concealment, then to capture. Now,--he continued,--were his -excellent intentions frustrated, his purposes to instruct the damsel, -who had intelligence and temperament suitable,--excepting that she was a -female of a tiger and not respectful of elderly men,--to instruct her -in wisdom, according to the Precept, to the end that people might behold -him performing wonders, and his riches increase. But how then? The -righteous man endeavours. But if frustrated, let him be content. Yet -he could but wonder for what reason he was now being carried away, -recklessly, from his native land. - -I didn't see, either, why we were carrying off Ram Nad, but it seemed -to have points of interest. I didn't see any real objection to it. I -suggested: - -"You don't think that you ought to be skinned or drowned? Why not? It -depends on Mrs. Ulswater's opinion. But see here, Ram Nad, if you ever -try to mesmerise Susannah again, or anybody aboard, I'll see to the -skinning privately. I'll insert Mrs. Ulswater's knitting needles into -your digestion, Susannah shall stuff your mouth full of jackstraws and -head cloth, and Mrs. Uls-water shall make a Presbyterian of your mangled -remains. You hear me!" - -Ram Nad took oath he would not. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII--CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S SECOND MANUSCRIPT - - -|PEACEFULLY we journey then over this balmy sea. My enlarged family is -at peace, excepting Susannah. The meekness, the surprised interest of -Ram Nad in us, in our purposes and his own situation, are irresistible, -except to Susannah. Mrs. Ulswater seems to regard him as a sort of -second orphan. Susannah resents this idea. - -We approach the Malay Peninsula. Ram Nad sits cross-legged on a rug, -teaching Susannah the Pali alphabet. I read the English poets to Mrs. -Ulswater, who sews garments for Susannah. So does Susannah, sometimes, -with vicious jabs. - -Mrs. Ulswater does not attend to the reading. She has something on her -mind. - -"Dr. Ulswater," she says at last, "is Ram Nad a well-educated man?" - -"My dear, he knows everything that I don't. Therefore he knows -infinitely more than I do." - -"Why shouldn't we bring up Susannah among us, instead of looking for an -orphanage any more?" - -"Perfectly possible." - -"Why shouldn't we have a mission of our own on the _Violetta_, instead -of hunting for other people's missions?" - -"An idea!" - -"Well, then, we will." - -"A sort of floating mission," I continue. "Fascinating, unique -conception! That is, if pursued moderately. The orphans are a success, -so far, including--with some reservations--Ram Nad. But I wouldn't -invest too heavily, too rapidly, in orphans. I would take, in fact, some -pains to get hold of preferred stock." - -She agrees thoughtfully: "Of course, the _Violetta_ won't hold a great -many. I should want nice ones. That's what you mean." - -"Precisely. For instance, Ram Nad is more interesting, perhaps, than -those whom Susannah so forcibly described as inwardly composed of 'mush -and dassent.'" - -"Then that's what we'll do." - -I think, then, with all deference to destiny, that we will. - -"I have sometimes wondered," I remark to Mrs. Ulswater, "just what our -idea was in kidnapping Ram Nad--if it was quite accidental, or if we -were not, on that occasion--shall we say?--in collusion with accident." - -"Why"--Mrs. Ulswater returns to her sewing--"of course! I thought he -wanted to steal Susannah. He wasn't a bit good at pretending. Goodness, -no! But I didn't know how he was going to do it, so I asked Captain -Jansen to stay awake below. But it would have been dreadful if Ram Nad -had drowned. I just let him try, because, of course, I thought, after -behaving so, he couldn't say much if we carried him off." - -"But why, at that time, did we want to carry him off?" - -"It was the pictures in the big Bible," Mrs. Ulswater replies. "All the -old men there look like him. I thought it would be nice to have him." - -Such is our situation. Here I float on Elysian seas. (My next article, -on the Scaphopodae, will astonish the scientific world. My collection of -Cephalopterae is now unique. I have proved three mistakes in Schmidt's -classification of the Coelenterates.) - -Ulswater. - -P. S.--Ram Nad begs to remain with us. He is inwardly composed of guile -and gammon. Still, like Susannah, he is in a way a personage. - -But suppose Mrs. Ulswater learns Oriental mesmerism of Ram Nad, and -supplements--quite unnecessarily--by this means, her government of me. -I should protest: "No, Mrs. Ulswater! Not while I know myself master of -this household!" - -P. P. S.--Suppose she insists! - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: THE ISLAND OF LUA - - -South Pacific, _January._ - -|MRS. ULSWATER has collected more orphans. - -There are, without doubt, many methods of selecting the beneficiaries -of a mission, asylum, home for curables or incurables, or similar -foundation. Mrs. Ulswater's favourite method seems to be what one of the -new orphans calls "a coopdeetat," but she denies any such preference. -She says "It happens so." That may be, and yet I have a feeling--a -marital weakness perhaps--that she has a sort of pull, a secret -understanding, so to speak, with circumstances. With the bait foresight, -and the rod discretion, she catches the trout accident. - -Mrs. Ulswater, who first established over me a kind of Monroe Doctrine, -forbidding to other powers the annexation of any territorial portion -of me, followed it up by a species of suzerainty controlling foreign -relations; which having developed into something resembling the German -Empire,--that is, nominally an alliance, practically a solid entity of -control,--therein I rest, on the whole, patriotic and pleased. - -A month ago my family consisted of Mrs. Ulswater, Norah the maid, -Susannah the orphan, Georgiana the hen,--both from the island of -Clementina,--and Ram Nad, a Cingalese pundit and fakeer, whom Mrs. -Ulswater had collected cavalierly--I admit, cavalierly,--who, after -the learning of his race, practised medicine, hypnotism, and sleight of -hand; whose medical ideas were ridiculous, his magic good, his status as -an orphan an acceptable probability; whose chief property was his wicker -basket, shaped like a truncated cone, with a flat cover on top, his -vade-mecum, his universal container. - -All things he put into it, and there they disappeared. Many things he -took out of it. He was a bully magician, and looked something like a -prophet and something like a lamb. - -Mrs. Ulswater was originally interested in foreign missions. Out of this -interest she developed a mission of her own. Her purpose was to -employ the _Violetta_ as a migratory orphan asylum, or mobile base of -operations, from which to scatter regenerative ideas; to sail about -picking up casual orphans perhaps, introducing neatness, good habits, -and practical housekeeping to the Pacific Ocean, rearranging haply -its populations and politics; a sort of slumming on the high seas, an -oceanic College Settlement. A stupendous idea! The Pacific Ocean was -much in need of Mrs. Ulswater. It is a loose, untidy ocean, a "Bohemian" -ocean with its far scattered islands, lunging seas, and idle solitudes. - -"Brooms," Mrs. Ulswater said, speaking of the islanders, "brooms, soap, -and taking pains, are what they need." - -An ominous phrase, "taking pains"! Is it a fact that not enough pains -are thrust upon us in the normal course of events, that we must acquire -"pains"? - -I stumped Mrs. Ulswater with that question. Hadn't mankind enough pains -without taking pains? She said: - -"The Kanakas haven't," and then reflected. "People," she said, "never -got civilised by having a good time." - -I fear that proposition is sound. - - - - -CHAPTER XV--SADLER - - -|The festival of Christmas was approaching. Susannah was greatly -excited over the preparations. Mrs. Ulswater was making mince pies. -Ram Nad--whose opinion of himself is that he is an astral and unworldly -soul, while Mrs. Ulswater's is that he differs from all heathen -described in the missionary quarterlies, and my own is that he is as -full of gammon as an eggshell is full of egg--Ram Nad was taking no -interest in mince pies. For myself, in the tropics, I would as soon -have eaten a pound of bent whalebone, or a swarm of congealed bees, as a -mince pie, whose inward action upon me would, I was sure, be similar to -that of resilient whalebone or thawed-out bees; and therefore, -although interested in mince pies, I yet regarded the subject with a -certain,--shall I say?--anxiety. It was under these circumstances that -we sighted, approached, and at length took anchorage at the island of -Lua. - -It was not an unknown Pacific Island, nor yet well-known. The date of -its discovery, its size, inhabitants and products will not be found -stated in a school geography, but a good chart will show its location. -Whether or not there were any white men there I did not know, but -thought it likely. There is a considerable and curious drifting white -population in the South Pacific. The Caucasian is ubiquitous. There is -a restless germ in his blood, unknown to the Oriental and mysterious to -himself. - -A numerous village of wattled huts stretched along the white beach of -the bay where we came to anchor. I have been not a little here and there -in the South Pacific in my time, but never before on the island of Lua. -Its blue and lilac mountains in panorama,--white threads of falling -water on their steeps,--its nearer hills, palmy and green and like moss -in the softening distance, the smooth lacquered water in the bay, the -beach, the little brown huts with domed roofs of leafy thatch, truly all -seemed at peace. A few people came down to the beach to observe us, and -presently a boat put out,--not one of the native outriggers, but a -dumpy little ship's dinghy. With the aid of a glass I made out that the -occupants were two white men. - -Of the two men, who now came aboard the _Violetta_, the foremost was -a tall, bony, swing-shouldered powerful man, with a melancholy -countenance, dangling gray moustache, whitish hair, lean throat, -remarkably large hands, and a husky voice, who carried a banjo swung -by a cord around his neck; the other was plainly a Hibernian, -stoop-shouldered, his hair and whiskers forming a circular, complete, -and resplendent aureole around his face, at the centre of which aurora a -short black tobacco pipe was firmly inserted. - -"How do?" said the bony stranger, mournfully, and then casting his eyes -down on the _Violetta_'s deck, he stopped and gazed. - -On the flowered carpet under the neat awning sat Mrs. Ulswater as usual -with her workbasket beside her, her knitting in her hand; there were -the rocking chairs with their doilies, some geranium pots along the -scuppers, and some lashed to the awning supports; there sat that -venerable Cingalese, Ram Nad, with his magic-basket beside him; Susannah -held Georgians Tupper in her lap. - -"I don't seem to get my vest around your combination," said the bony -one, observing this domestic scene. "Is it waxworks, or pirates?" He -looked worried about it. "My name's Sadler," he continued, "and this -yere conflagration behind me is named Irish or Jimmie Hagan, just as you -like. We'd be pleased to know you." - -This sounded ingratiating, though his countenance was melancholy. -Presently he sat in one of the doilied rocking chairs, with his feet -tucked away behind him, and he seemed easy-going in his talk, and candid -as to his history. - -He had been a sailor once, as it seemed, on a smuggling or filibustering -ship along South American coasts, and after that had lived in the city -of Portate, South America, and from there he had gotten himself banished -on account of his interest in romantic politics, and gone to California, -and made money in some kind of Oriental trade; but lately he had been -in Burmah professionally, that is to say, his profession there had -been that of a sort of high priest, a species of abbot of a kind of -monastery; and after that in Sumatra. But a month or more since he had -dropped on Lua. The island had interested him by its romantic politics. -He had resolved to "take a hand in that seducing game, which it looked -real sporty," he said, "and I judged the showdown was coming soon, but -it hasn't yet, and it's been rolling up the blankedest jackpot you ever -saw." - -"What!" said Mrs. Ulswater. - -"Beg pardon, ma'am. I shouldn't have swore, but them's the facts." - -"What are the facts?" - -Sadler looked worried. - -"May I," I said, "venture to suggest that your terms are perhaps a -trifle technical, or--shall I say?--a trifle remote. Let me explain to -Mrs. Ulswater that by a 'showdown' is intended merely the decision of -a given issue; that a 'jackpot,' as such, may be defined as an -accumulation of undecided issues." - -"Why," said Sadler, "you see, doctor, it's this way. Your ideas about -technical language and mine don't jibe with each other, and I'll bet -my last week's shirt to yours of the week before, Mrs. Ulswater's idea -ain't agreeable with either of us on which point my own opinion was -similar to his, and I regretfully let pass that interesting wager. - -"Well!" said Mrs. Ulswater again; "What are the facts?" - -Sadler then described the politics of Lua, in a voice slow, husky, and -bereaved. - -"Some years ago," he said, "a friend of mine, who was a white man named -Craney, was king of Lua, for he bought out the different candidates, -or pooled the interests, or something, and mounted the throne himself. -Anyhow, he was killed in a ruction. It occurred to me to come around -this way, which happened about a month back, to ask Craney for the job -of Prime Minister, but I found he was dead, and the place seemed to me -then on the edge of another dynastic war. There was a young chap named -Kolosama, who was the son of the king who succeeded Craney, and there -was an old chap named Ogelomano, who claimed the throne by right of -superior wisdom, with some other complicated rights, and relations, by -which it appeared he ought to have been king before. Awful names, ain't -they? Well, this yere royalty appeared to be partly hereditary, partly -elective, and mostly revolutionary, which is all very well, but hard -feeling inside of families is vicious. That's my opinion. Kolo had the -largest backing, but Ogel had the superior wisdom, as appeared from -this: namely, he immejitly laid himself out to get the support of -the newly arrived combination of military genius, statecraft, and -diplomacy--that's me. Arguing with a scrupulous conscience, then, I -comes to this conclusion; I says: 'The first requirement for a happy -kingdom is a forehanded king; the next is a superior Prime Minister; -which it's clear from the behaviour of this party that he knows what's -what, and it's clear from the behaviour of the other party that he ain't -got no real penetration at all; nor he ain't onto the points of royalty, -or he'd know that a kingdom without a Prime Minister is as unhappy as -a cat with no dog to chase her, which anybody but a fool knows; and -consequently this yere Kolosama is unfit to rule this balmy isle, and -this yere Ogel is a promising monarch. That's my opinion.' I stated that -argument to Ogel, and he agreed that was a tart argument all right, and -I was a Prime Minister sent by the gods. Then Ogel and Irish and I, we -went over till we come to the palace, which is built of bamboo and all -on the ground floor, but else-wise is a commojous mansion, and chuck -full of Craney's furnishings; and we discharged artillery from the front -door, to let folks know we was on the throne. Then Kolosama collected -his party, and went off to the other side of the island, and declared -war. Then we called him, on the chance it was a bluff. So it was, and so -was ours. Neither of us showed down. That's how it is. Me and Irish -with Ogel's warriors, and Kolosama with his warriors, have been prancing -forth over these picturesque mountains like we intended to be real -vicious, and dodging back till the island's near distracted. We've -got the wisdom and foresight, and we got all Craney's firearms by -the coopdee-tat, but Kolo appears to have a majority of the foolish -population with him just now, and there you are. There's your jackpot, -which me and Kolo are playing for. I haven't got the hand to open it, -or to do anything but jockey for position, for Kolo's got most of the -warriors. I don't know what's the matter with him, unless his warriors -don't like gunpowder. Maybe his hand's weaker than it looks, but I'd bet -something if I held it, this jackpot would be opened." - -"What sort of a man is Ogelomano?" I asked, when Sadler paused. - -"Fat and sulky," he said; "but I've seen worse. I've seen homelier -looking men too, somewhere, but I've forgotten where that was. Maybe it -was in a nightmare. For that matter Kolo's all right enough too. I guess -the island would be happy with either, were t'other dear charmer away." - -Sadler stopped and rubbed his chin gloomily, and said: "Nice outfit of -yours. Waxwork pirates, maybe?" - -I explained the purposes and mission of the _Violetta_. - -"Floating orphan asylum," said Sadler, "sort of perambulating -benevolence, and steam-propulsion mission house, to teach temperateness -to the tropics. Why, that's all right. A chap that wants to pad his soul -with good deeds, and go to sleep on his benevolence like a downy bed, -why, he's got a good proposition. I've done it myself, and it worked, -more or less. But I always got restless." - -He began thrumming distressful and complaining chords on his banjo, -looked off to sea with a dreamy expression, until presently he raised a -tune that never should have existed, and sang to it in a voice like that -of a walrus with a cold: - - " I want to be an orphan, - - And with the orphans roam, - - A millionaire my guardian, - - A steam yacht for my home--- - -"Doctor," he said, huskily; "it's this way. You've come to the right -shop with those goods. Yere's your chance for benevolence. If you'd -steam around to the other side of Lua, and find Kolo, which I could spot -his location for you pretty near; and if you'd ladle him out some of -that there benevolence, and tell him you were his long-lost aunt that -was thinking of giving him some toy firearms, maybe he'd come aboard. I -shouldn't wonder. But if he brought any warriors with him, you'd better -make him send them ashore to wash their faces, which they'll need it all -right. Then if you happened to get up steam and sail away with him, and -took him to the States, and give him a college education, and sent -me the bill, why, I'd send a draft on San Francisco for any amount -in reason. Why, see yere, doctor, that scheme is neat surely, and -benevolent to hatch eggs, ain't it? Yere you leave the island of Lua -with its politics smooth as milk, and a forehanded king whose policy -is guided by an unequalled Prime Minister, in the direction of single -matrimony and a vegetarian diet. Consider that strategy! Regard it! Look -at it all around! Remark the moral purpose! Catch onto its simplicity -of design! Why, it's a wonder!" I looked at Mrs. Ulswater, who had said -nothing during the above, but sat there sewing, and sometimes glancing -up at Sadler. Now she laid down her sewing and said: "Are you sure the -island would be better off if one of the kings were taken away?" - -"Sure, ma'am! Why, look at it! You can see for yourself." - -"Of course it would look so. But then, is Kolosama a nice person? We -don't like to take orphans without knowing about them." - -"I'll tell you on the square, ma'am," said Sadler, "Kolo ain't bright, -or he'd have called me before now. He's slow. He's plodding. Moreover -he's self-willed and opinionated. He don't take to prime ministers, or -official advice. He needs discipline, and he needs encouragement. And -yet I'd call him a promising kid, and a hopeful orphan. He'd be a credit -to you. Yes'm. No doubt of it." - -Mrs. Ulswater took up her knitting and said, "I should like to see the -older king first." - -"If you'll come up to the palace to-morrow," said Sadler, "the old man'd -be pleased to see you. You've no notion how he'd like Kolo to have a -foreign education." - -He gathered up his large frame, murmured, "Piratical waxworks!" and -departed, together with Irish, who silently smoked his short black pipe. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI--AT THE PALACE - - -|IT seemed to me that a Prime Minister who composed poetry impromptu and -played the banjo, was a species never yet examined and classified by me. -But as to Kolosama's entry into my family circle, it seemed to me the -selection of orphans should be made only on strong recommendations. - -The next morning Mrs. Ulswater, Susannah, and I started. A well-trodden -path led through the forest, and at the end of a few miles came out into -a pleasant valley, where lay a scattered village of huts for the most -part small, fragile, and consisting generally of a woven roof, posts to -support it, and an occasional mat between posts. The palace was easily -distinguished, standing in a grove on a hill, a long one-storied bamboo -house, surrounded by piazzas. Evidently it had been built by a white -man. In some odd way it suggested the States. - -Sadler met us in the village, and brought us to his own dwelling, which -stood at the foot of the palace hill. I judged it had been furnished -from the palace with properties of King Craney. It included five bamboo -huts adjoining each other. - -A Kanaka servant, who stood by the door of one of them, shrieked -and vanished. That hut seemed to be the kitchen. A cat of faded and -depressed appearance replaced the Kanaka in the doorway. - -"Oh, please!" cried Susannah, "May I have that cat?" - -"Dolores is her name," said Sadler, looking dreamily at the cat, -"which she likes to sleep on pies. She's got a heart sorrow, sort -of indigestion of the spirit, same as me. Some of it comes from -dissipation, some of it on account of sleeping in the oven on pies, -which has varieties of climate pretty stiff, so she's got a seared -and wasted look, as you might say. Besides," he added after a moment's -thought, "she ain't got no dog to chase her." - -"Goodness!" said Mrs. Ulswater, looking into the kitchen. "Isn't it -awful!" - -She was down on Sadler's housekeeping to an extent you'd hardly believe. -Still, it must be admitted that the weeds growing over the floor made -his kitchen look like a pasture lot, and that the kitchen windows were -somewhat untidy on account of the Kanaka cook throwing slops at them -from a distance. There was coffee in a china vase, and tobacco in the -teapot. There was a hen laying an egg in the soup tureen, which fitted -her very neatly and snugly. - -"Please!" cried Susannah again, "May I have this cat?" - -"Sure!" said Sadler. "It ain't good for her here. She gets bad habits -living along of me. Any cat would that lived along of me." - -We went up to the palace. It was furnished profusely with the kind of -things that seem stuffy in the tropics, for the lamented royalty called -Craney seemed to have had a taste for plush-covered chairs, red-flowered -carpets, portires with fringes and tassels, glass-bangled lamps, and -gilded clocks. For the clocks King Ogel seemed to share King Craney's -weakness. I counted fourteen clocks in the audience room, all going but -three. The king sat on a plush sofa among his clocks, fanning himself. -The largest and gildedest clock stood on the floor in front of him. - -He was an elderly man, stout and unwieldy, of morose expression, his -complexion inferior, and his grizzled hair stuck full of chicken bones. -He wore a pink shirt without a collar, a shell necklace, and a kind of -skirt that seemed to have been formerly a lace window curtain. Sadler -introduced us. The king grunted, "How do," and we sat down on the plush -chairs and discussed Sadler's scheme. Sadler expatiated on the highly -moral qualities in it, the peace that would fall on the distracted -island, when Kolo was thus removed strategically and for his own best -welfare. The king looked pleased. His pleasure seemed to arouse his -hospitality, and his hospitality was startling. He rose, shouted, and -stamped. From far piazzas came scuttling, came running, brown men and -women bearing baskets and platters; in the baskets was fruit, in -the platters fish cooked most messily, and other articles of diet -indescribable, which I had no curiosity to taste. But I thought Mrs. -Ulswater seemed favourably impressed with the king. - -Now fell the hour of ten, and the clocks broke out striking noisily. - -Over the king's face passed an expression of unutterable delight. His -heavy cheeks wrinkled into smiles. He thumped his chest and chuckled. He -turned from clock to clock, keeping his eye in particular on the great -gilt clock at his feet, from whose ornate front no sound as yet was -come. - -The clocks all ceased. But the great gilt clock had not struck. - -Suddenly as a crash of thunder the king passed from chuckling happiness -to anger, violent and uncontrolled. He clambered to his feet. He -stamped. He swore in the language of beach combers and decayed mariners, -inexcusable, abominable. He shook his fists at Sadler. - -"My clock don' go!" he shrieked. "Arrr! She don' go!" and snatching up -a fruit basket, he fell, in utter and abandoned rage, beating, -kicking, yelling, swearing, scattering fruit, upon the frightened and -frizzle-haired henchmen and henchwomen, who fled with tumult and wailing, -from room to room, from piazza to far piazza, and beyond into the -forest, where the noise of pursuit died distantly away. - -I was amazed. Mrs. Ulswater sprang up. - -"Is _that_ a king!" she said indignantly, and started for the piazza -followed by myself, by Susannah with the cat, and by Sadler in -deprecation. "He ought to be spanked! That's what he ought," said Mrs. -Ulswater. - -"You're right, ma'am," said Sadler. "Ain't a doubt it would be a good -thing, and I was thinking, when you spoke, as how, when Kolo was gone -and things was settled, I'd just get that introduced quiet like into the -regular court ceremonial, putting it under the heading of 'Official Care -of the King's Person,' which I was thinking, ma'am, as how it was my -recollection a strap got there better'n a shingle. Yes'm." - -Mrs. Ulswater stopped on the edge of the porch, mollified. - -"Would you really do that?" - -"Yes'm." - -"Well," she said, "if you'll catch that king and bring him down to tea -this evening, we'll think it over by that time. Goodness! How do you -know Kolo is any better?" And we returned to the _Violetta_. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII--MRS. ULSWATER TAKES ACTION - - -|SADLER came down late in the afternoon, and with him little Irish -and King Ogel. If Mrs. Ulswater was expecting a contrite king, she was -disappointed. He strutted across the deck in front of a bodyguard of -three huge warriors, whose garb and outfit were more ferocious than -ornamental, more ornamental than decorous, and more ornamental in -intention than in result. He was unashamed. His misbehaviour had left -no traces on his complacence. He was impertinently vain of that terrific -bodyguard. I noticed Mrs. Ulswater's expression become suddenly set and -determined. I knew the king's complacence irritated her, his unrepented -misbehaviour roused her instinct for discipline. Something was going -to happen. I looked at the warriors. I wished it might not be something -that would cause the introduction into my anxious digestive organism -of those shovel-headed spears, unpleasant objects, nay, surely -indigestible. I hoped for the best. I was calm but expectant. - -"Doctor," said Mrs. Ulswater, "when kings are invited to tea, don't -people have entertainments for them?" - -"Invariably! Music and dancing!" I exclaimed, delighted, relieved at -the turn Mrs. Ulswater's intentions seemed to be taking. "Daughters of -Herodias--hem--I mean to say you are quite right. No barbaric potentate -can swallow his victuals without some agreeable distraction." - -"Of course we haven't any of those things," she said, and looked -thoughtfully at Ram Nad, who was squatted near on the flowered carpet, -"but if Ram Nad should hypnotise the king's men, don't you think it -would amuse him?" - -She pointed to the bodyguards. I thought it would. Ram Nad consented. - -Venerable and unappalled, he drew near, sat down in front of the guards, -and began his monotonous chant and circuitous gesturing before their -stolid faces, whose stationary expressions and complexions variegated -with tattoo were unmoved by Ram Nad's odd behaviour. Slowly those -copper-skinned and impassive spearmen in ornamental outfit keeled over -and lay stretched and rigid, mute symbols of barbarism, promiscuously -prostrate, frozen ferocities, motionless images of war. A whirl of Ram -Nad's hand, and they rolled, tumbled, turning promiscuity into chaos, -across the deck, and brought up in the scuppers among the geranium -pots. There lay shields and spears, sprawling legs and tattooed faces, -grotesque and horrific, among the brown earthenware pots, the round -velvety leaves and small red petals of that plant so familiar in the -cleanly windows of our native land. - -The king was delighted. He thumped his chest, and laughed. - -Jimmie Hagan took his pipe out of his mouth, profoundly astonished. - -Sadler murmured "Waxworks!" - -"More!" the king commanded, doubled over with laughter. "More!" - -He wanted the bodyguard tumbled down the companionway, but Mrs. Ulswater -wouldn't allow it. The king turned sulky. Language rumbled in his throat -preparing to be shrieked. - -"Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Ulswater; "As if I'd let those things into my -parlour! Have them tumbled down the gangway if you want to." - -The king brightened up. Infatuated man, he did not see--he had no -inkling of--the danger that lurked in Mrs. Ulswater's set mouth and -determined expression. I could have warned him, but refrained. Clearly -she was right about the incongruity of fully armed and half-naked -warriors precipitated down stairs into parlours. One feels the -impropriety of it. - -While Ram Nad, at the king's boisterous order, was extricating the -warriors from the geranium pots, and while Mrs. Ulswater went forward -and was talking with Captain Jansen, I was thinking it impossible -that she meant to allow the bodyguard to be sent helplessly overboard, -inhumanely, to the great peril of drowning. I was about to intervene, -when I saw Mrs. Ulswater return, followed, to my surprise, by Captain -Jansen and the crew. - -"There!" she said, pointing; "Be quick!" - -Judge of my astonishment, when Captain Jansen and our muscular crew fell -upon Sadler, Hagan, and King Ogel, and jerking each backward, proceeded -to tie them hands and feet. - -"Murther!" said Hagan. "Murther," he repeated more mildly, and then, -"Hand up that poipe." - -Susannah cried, "Goody!" and rushed about. She was distracted by all -that wealth of curious phenomena, and the scattered arrangement of -objects of interest. - -"Pirates!" shouted Sadler. After one huge lunge he subsided, and -laughed. He thundered with husky merriment and unseasonable mirth. - -The humiliated and outraged monarch began eloquently, but Captain Jansen -clapped his hand over and corked up the royal anathema. They carried -King Ogel forward. My impression is that Captain Jansen used a strap, -varied, perhaps, at intervals, by a board, to impress upon him Mrs. -Ulswater's opinion. We heard of him, for the time being, no more. - -"Tie up those Kanakas!" said Mrs. Ulswater. "Now, Ram Nad, wake them up. -Now, they must be taken ashore. Captain Jansen, you must get up steam. -Untie Mr. Sadler and Mr. Hagan. There!" - -She sat down, rocked nervously, and took up her knitting again. Sadler's -laughter had ceased. We both looked at her. We wondered and waited. - -"Well!" she said at last defiantly,--as the sound of oarlocks told -of the boats drawing away shoreward, loaded with disentranced but -well-roped, disarmed, bewildered warriors,--"I don't know what you -think, but I think Ogel would have been a dreadful king, and from what -Mr. Sadler said, I think Kolo will do better. Besides, it's easier to -carry off the one that's handy, instead of running after the other, -isn't it? Of course it is." She added a moment later, "Of course, Mr. -Sadler, you needn't come away unless you like, but you said you didn't -get on with the other king, and I thought it would please Dr. Ulswater. -I know he enjoys your company." - -Sadler wiped his eyes and sighed. - -"I ain't been dished up so green and tasty, like a salad," he said, -"since me and Moses and Pharaoh used to play draw poker, and Moses kept -special providences up his sleeve, nor I ain't had such a good time -since the last time I was licked for stealing horehound candy; which my -recollection, ma'am, is in favour of straps rather'n shingles. It's all -right. Lua's too small for me. You can't stretch nights without kicking -other families out of bed, which makes reverberating scandals. If you -sit down, you squash the judiciary; if you get up, you shake the throne. -This civil war's no good. Why, - - What's a war without no slaughter? - - I'd rather be at - - A Coopdetat - - By Mrs. James Ulswater." - -Mrs. Ulswater went below. Her nerves were perhaps a trifle upset. Not -so Susannah. But Susannah was young. She sniffed the battle of life. She -thrilled to the keynote of action. She fell upon Jimmie Hagan with -eager inquiry as to his precise feelings throughout the late excitement. -Sadler and myself stood watching the landing of the spearmen. - -"You don't mind going with us?" I asked him. - -"Me? No! I'll have to get even with you sometime or be restless. I -ain't up to abducting Mrs. Ulswater nor Susannah, but I'll lay for you, -doctor. You'd better put Jimmie on the crew. He's a good seaman. I'll -be a guest, or a passenger, or an orphan, anything you like. Why, look -yere, doctor. Mrs. Ulswater's been and took me out of temptation to -stamp on my fellowman, and I'm grateful. She's given me a chance at -innocence. Why, my fellowman's always lying around in my way, and I keep -stepping on him, and kicking holes in his garments when he has any, and -bumps on him where he hasn't, and then I goes off to eat sackcloth and -ashes, and wear bread and water. That's mostly the monotonous way of -it. But the point that gets me is this: I recommend an orphan, and -she thinks that'll do for a king; I recommend a king, and she has him -spanked for an orphan. Now, if a candidate for a throne ought to qualify -that way, maybe he ought; but I never heard of it before, which is why -you see me dished for a salad." - -So departed the _Violetta_ from the island of Lua. May its politics have -peace! - -The knock-out drops which Ram Nad kept in the ends of his fingers, on -the whole, had worked better than mine, and Mrs. Uls-water's logic had -been, as ever, penetrative, precise, practical. - -The preparations for celebrating Christmas were resumed. My anxieties -returned. I confided them to Sadler. I said: - -"It is my fixed opinion, that for revelry and sorrow, for a taste of -Eden's rapturous but snaky joys, a mince pie in the tropics lays over -most things." - -"Why, look yere, doctor," he said. "That there king's got a tempestuous -liver that can't be downed, and he likes pies. The king 'll eat it, -sure, he'll eat it." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII--CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S THIRD MANUSCIPT - - -|A LYRICAL poem composed by Sadler, and by him sung inharmoniously to a -banjo:-- - - "I'm, so to speak, shanghaied to sea; - - And who you think my shipmates be? - - One family of millionaires, - - Rambling the deep in search of heirs; - - One hypnotiser Oriental; - - One orphan maiden ornamental; - - One widowed cat; one spinster hen; - - A crew of blue-eyed Swedish men; - - One head of hair too hot for wearing; - - One captive monarch spanked for swearing-- - -is not what you would call amethystine or ethereal; but poetry, of a -kind, we have come to expect of him. But when Susannah brought me a -ballad, composed by herself, on the foregoing events, it produced in my -mind--and I speak moderately--a state of exhausting confusion. I copy -this ballad. It is entitled "The Kings of Lua." - - 'There were two kings in Lua, - - Which only could use one. - - Now Sadler came from Sumatra - - And needed some more fun. - - - "He was a white man, although - - He was not exactly white, - - But tanned and played on the banjo. - - Which angels would delight. - - - "He said, 'Prime Ministers are good things, - - And I'm one of those things, Hooroar! - - I'll bet my last week s shirt, O Kings: - - To yours of the week before.' - - - "The old King wore a pink one neat, - - But not much else did wear. - - His face looked something like mince meat. - - Some bones were in his hair. - - - "Another man was Irish, - - And I will make a joke, - - His hair it was so fierish, - - That always he did smoke. - - - "The other King we never saw; - - He didn't come to tea. - - Oh, wretched island of Lua - - I weep and wail for thee. - - - " So then they had a war, - - Although they never fought. - - 'There's something ails this civil war,' - - Said Sadler, 'I wonder what.' - - - "Ha! Ha! The _Violetta_ - - Came sailing in one day. - - Ogel and Sadler and Irish - - We yanked and took away. - - - "About Lua now it is now known, - - I'll tell you what I think. - - I think Kolo ran up the throne - - As quick as he could wink." - - - Yours--ULSWATER. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX--DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: THE MYSTERY OF -GEORGIANA AND DELORES - - -Samoa. _March_. - -|IN respect to incisive logic, decision, and force, I have sometimes -thought that Susannah resembles Mrs. Ulswater. The characters of -both, in contact with my temperament, produce a harmony, thrilling but -agreeable. But then my temperament is a kettle drum. I have sometimes -thought that on a temperament more lute-like, the impact of Susannah -might produce--shall I say?--surprise. On the temperament of -Sadler,--melancholy and yet buoyant, intricate and yet simple,--the -impact of Susannah seems to produce sometimes extraordinary jubilation, -sometimes a condition quite the reverse. He calls her "a melojous -circus," a phrase implying jubilation. - -He is a man of moods, a contrast to the consistent placidity of Ram Nad, -the Occident to the Orient. Are they then supersignificant types of that -new world and that old? One of them turns to life's mystery a bold but -troubled face, and covers with a jocular and careless manner a soul -unreconciled. The toil and restless wandering of individuals, the -surging migration of races, the incessant change called progress, -are all but the symptoms of his feverish discomfort, his cosmic ill -adjustment? And the other, the Ram Nads, the old-world type, meek, -timid, tricky, placid, has it found at least, out of its age-long -thoughts, how to make its truckling peace with the mystery? C'est un -grand peut-tre. Meanwhile the education of Susannah is the principal -enterprise of Mrs. Ulswater, Sadler, and me, to say nothing of Ram Nad. - -It was my habit to read aloud from the poets, the divine Shelley, the -noble Tennyson, the golden Keats. Susannah's opinion of these poets was, -on the whole, scornful. - -They appeared to her tortuous and deceitful. Their language was, she -thought, "mussy." She did not believe they stated the facts. - -Hence, if any one had asked me sometime ago whether I thought it -possible or likely that Susannah would bud, bloom, burst loose and -explode into song, I should have said: "No! Impossible! Susannah has all -the materials of strident criticism, but none of poesy." - -Nevertheless here lies her "Ballad of the Kings of Lua." Here lies -moreover her tragic and profound "Ballad of Georgiana and Dolores." What -can be said of them? First, this; that I take the immediate cause of -Susannah's explosion to have been Sadler. He has the lyric habit. He -composes as a rooster crows, whenever it occurs to him. He is apt to -state his mind in that form. The lyric habit is infectious; youth is -imitative; hence arise schools of poetry; hence Susannah's explosion. -But Susannah's gift is for the narrative, the reflective. She has not -the lyric cry. Hers rather are the forceful expression and the just -remark. - -We left King Ogel at Sydney. He was pensioned by Sadler. He will -probably pass his remaining years in intemperate leisure. Mrs. Ulswater -did not think there was any prospect of working his reformation. He -was not a desirable orphan. My opinion was that Susannah was occupation -enough for an orphanage. - -Of Georgiana Tupper, that reserved, that exclusive hen from the island -of Clementina, and of Dolores, that stricken cat from Lua, I am about to -speak. - -It was the 13th of February. We were steaming eastward somewhat to the -south of the Loyalty Islands. The weather had been oppressive, the night -turned threatening, and by morning it was blowing a gale. I went on deck -to watch the watery phenomena. The sea was tumultuous and black, -the clouds overhead hung low and rainy, and the intense wind trailed -streamers of cloud across the sea. - -Suddenly, as I stood there, a tall black column of water rose directly -ahead of the _Violetta_. - -She swerved aside in answer to her helm, narrowly escaped disaster; -and that contorted and insurgent object, that careening maelstrom, and -insensate Charybdis, that water spout, went whirling by on the port -side. - -But now, behold! the sea all about was columned with water spouts, -mushroom-shaped, their summits lost in eddying gloom--infuriate -smoke-stacks, roaring volcanoes waltzing on end--perpendicular -and intoxicated whales, bowelless of compassion, active and -voracious--gyrating black funnels of wind and water, full of exuberant -malice, full of demons of the nethermost deep striving to climb the -pendant and embattled heavens. Between the shattered sea and low -curtaining clouds, rumbled about us that tremendous warfare. Now and -again a spout would fall, broken like a pipe stem near its base, and -another heave up, grip the vapourish canopy above it, and come racing -over that chaotic ocean; through the midst of which forest of fluid -insanity and monstrous fungi of the sea--even as through some vast -cavern columned with maniac stalagmites and abandoned pillars of wet -combustion--we fled. - -How long this condition of affairs lasted, I could not say. How we -escaped, Heaven and Captain Jansen may know. The seas now and again -swept the deck. - -When we found ourselves at last with no water spouts anywhere near, and -the upper and lower world reasonably disconnected, Sadler and I went -below, where we found Mrs. Ulswater nervous, Susannah excited, Ram -Nad calm as a browsing cow. We discussed the experience. By night the -weather was fairly calm. Not till then did we find that Dolores and -Georgiana Tupper were missing. - -In the forecastle, it had been supposed that they were aft; in the -cabin, that they were forward. They were nowhere. The minutest search -was in vain. From one end of the yacht to the other we went--from deck -to keel. None could remember having noticed them, except Ram Nad, who -stated that he had seen them on deck before the tumult arose. No doubt -remained then. They were gone. What could be said? What interpretation -could be put upon it? What other than this? that in endeavouring to -pass, during the storm, from the forecastle to the cabin, or vice versa, -they had been blown or swept overboard. - -But why both? How, in particular, Dolores? Georgiana was but a hen; a -hen can be swept or blown; her anchorage is weak, her sail area apt to -enlarge with the wind; whereas Dolores was a cat, carrying four to five -anchors to each foot, and a sail area small under all circumstances. -What force then could have torn loose her desperate grapple? unless it -were--a pathetic possibility here--that, seeing Georgiana, the companion -and support of her bereaved existence, thus blown away, she had rushed -devotedly to her rescue; or--a still more affecting thought--that, -simply resolved not to outlive Georgiana but to perish with her, she had -cast herself after Georgiana upon the weltering deep. - -When this last idea occurred to me, I sought Susannah and turned it -over to her. The first effect was unfortunate. Tearful, at the time, -she burst out weeping. Mrs. Ulswater said I ought to be ashamed. Sadler, -with mournful sarcasm, did not see why a man, because he was full of -ideas, had to slop over like a tub of soapsuds--surely a mixed metaphor, -a confused figure of speech. - -Another idea occurred to me. It was that Susannah had the entire -sympathies of the _Violetta_ in tow. - - - - -CHAPTER XX--THE BALLAD OF GEORGIANA AND DELORES - - -THE BALLAD - - - - THERE was a cat and named Dolores, - - And she had many worries. - - They made her ill. They made her thin. - - Her stomach was all tumbled in. - - - "Oh, grief! Oh, dear' Who does not wail! - - Dolores had a beautiful tail - - It was black and partly yellow. - - She was so fair and good a fellow. - - - " I don't mean she was ever fat, - - I mean she was a woman cat - - Now, there was a hen too. Oh Shame! - - Now Georgiana was her name - - - " Now, to be proud she had a right. - - Her eyes they were very bright, - - And all her toes she had but one, - - Although some of her tail feathers were gone. - - - "Hark! The sea is full of awful posts - - Which make a person think of ghosts. - - Hark! The hurricane so fierce does blow. - - She is gone off the ship Woe! - - - " Dolores did not wait to purr. - - 'Farewell,' she cried. 'I go to her.' - - The foam it slithered through her claws, - - She was drowned in Friendship's Cause. - - - " My precious darling! Oh, my pet! - - You both so hated to get wet. - - Now you're as wet inside as a water pail, - - It makes me sick I die, I faint, I fail. - - - Now, sharks and whales, you are so big, - - If you should eat them, you're a pig, - - Now, little fish, make friends with them please, - - With Georgiana and Dolores." - - - -FOOTNOTES BY JAMES ULSWATER. - -First Stanza: As the Ancient Mariner began his marvellous tale, "There -was a ship," so Susannah begins, "There was a cat"--boldly, ruggedly, a -leap _in mdias res_. The first stanza is a condensed and yet accurate -analysis of Dolores, ending with a striking bit of realism. - -Second Stanza: A wild burst of grief subsiding sadly into tender -reminiscence. Note how the proportions of black and yellow on the tail -of Dolores are delicately discriminated, the "black" being, in point of -fact, predominant. - -Third Stanza: We are introduced to Georgiana. Here arises a difficulty. -What was there in the condition of being "a hen" to warrant the -exclamation, "Oh, Shame!" Surely none! I interpret the passage thus: -the exclamation "Oh, Shame!" is simply the poetess' passion bursting -through, as it were, the reserve of the narrative, and in this way -it prophetically forecasts the fatal issue. It is not, I think, a -reflection or invective against hens, as such. - -Fourth Stanza: Observe how just and truthful are the details, how -Georgiana's right to a certain pride of manner, which indeed was -hers, is critically based upon the brightness of her eyes, upon the -approximate completeness of her toes. And yet it is honourably admitted -that there was a deficiency of tail feathers. - -Fifth Stanza: As the ballads of folklore are ever distinguished by a -certain abruptness of climax, so here Susannah. Note the present tense, -used only in this stanza. In the last line, how remarkable in effect -is the passionate interjection which follows the simple statement of -Georgiana's catastrophe! - -Sixth Stanza: Last line, "slithered"--a difficult word, and yet -effective! The whole line is masterly. - -Seventh Stanza: The last line is clearly a Shelleyan reminiscence, -a trace of my readings aloud of that poet. And yet, if Susannah had -plagiarised, it was at least, boldly, frankly. - -Eighth and Last Stanza: Note the contrast between the defiant and -denunciatory address to the "whales and sharks," and the pleading -gentleness of that petition to the "little fish," that they receive -with comfort and affection those sad and houseless visitants, who had -perished not ignobly, not unworthily. - -A poem composed by Sadler on the foregoing events: - - "The climates got out on a spree, - - A heaven-and-hell carouse, - - And Satan built along the sea - - The pillars of his house; - - And 'mong them all they drowned one hen, - - One played-out, seedy cat, - - And then slid off to sea again, - - And let it go at that, - - Leaving some waves to sob and worry, - - Leaving Susannah crying.-- - - Oh, Lord, this world is sound and fury, - - And nothing signifying. - - But come a time when heaven and hell - - Has settled their arrears,-- - - 'Bout twilight of the judgment day, - - When all the books are put away, - - And all the little souls gone home - - Each to its place in kingdom come-- - - The Lord and me, we'll set and--well, - - We'll set around and talk a spell - - About some woman's tears." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI--SUSANNAH AND RAM NAD - - -|THE deck of the _Violetta_ had resumed its ordinary domestic look. -True, no Dolores lay on the carpet, no Georgiana pecked and scratched in -the scuppers. At some distance apart on his rug, his basket behind him, -in deep abstraction, sat Ram Nad. - -Ram Nad had absent-mindedness down to a science. He could roll up his -eyeballs and go off like a bullet. When not abstracted he usually -played jackstraws. What recondite connection there was between him and -jackstraws I never made out, but I suspected it was the delicate sleight -of hand required, and the practice it gave him, which fastened him to -that Occidental game. Certainly I would back him against any jackstraw -player--But there never was such a jackstraw player before. The laws of -physics were nothing to him. Gravitation in jackstraws he ignored. - -Sadler, Susannah, and I were in conversation under the awning, but Mrs. -Ulswater sat a long time silent. - -"Doctor," she said at last, "do you think Ram Nad could have Georgiana -and Dolores in his basket?" - -Susannah started. On me too the idea had a certain volcanic effect. - -"Why suppose so?" I said. "Is there evidence? Have you a subtle -instinct? Does he look a shade more virtuous than usual? If he does, it -would go to prove he has been accumulating sin. But does he? He looks -to be precisely as usual. Why suppose they didn't go overboard? Why not -adopt my theory and Susannah's of Dolores' pathetic departure?" - -"I suppose they did." - -Mrs. Ulswater sighed, and was silent for some moments before she went -on: - -"But if Ram Nad churned them into his basket the way he does with -things, after what I've told him, it's flat disobedience, and I won't -stand it from a heathen. Georgiana never would go on deck when the wind -blew, and they were both in the cabin the night before the water spouts. -Of course if I accused him of it, and it wasn't so, he'd be perfectly -crushing. He'd be crushing if it _was_ true, for that matter. But -somehow I don't see how it could have happened, and I won't have Ram Nad -getting the best of me. I wish you'd see if you can find out." - -Now if anything suits my temperament and talent, it is wily diplomacy, -and the worming out of another man by devious ways the carefully guarded -secret of his soul. I took a camp stool and sat down before Ram Nad. -He was abstracted behind the whites of his rolled-up eyes. I said with -subtle suavity: - -"Wake up, you old Cingalese snake of a juggler!" - -Ram Nad came out of infinity, and answered with welcoming gesture: -"Imbecile, why do you trouble me?" - -"Where," I said, "are Georgiana and Dolores, you depraved and disgusting -pundit?" - -"How do I know, pig?" - -But this limpid flow of pure reason was not, it seemed to me, really -headed for Ram Nad's soul secret. I skilfully shifted the attack. - -"Why, in this way you might have an idea, illustrious. As I understand -your theory of everything, it's this: The entire universe, you say, is -only a general idea which has the misfortune to be particularised in -spots. Normally, it's just an abstract conception, but parts of the -conception have somehow blundered into a curious condition called -concreteness. A very distressing condition, very. Bless my soul! -Concreteness is an awful catastrophe." - -"As you state it so, it may be so stated," said Ram Nad. - -"Now then, if any person then, such as Georgiana or Dolores, either -tragically, or peacefully, or in any manner whatever, becomes dead, you -say of them, simply: They have returned to generality; they are no more -separately existent; they are rid of the burden of identity; they have, -so to speak, disappeared in that airy original mixture again. Such would -be your description of the case." - -"You possess some misunderstood fragments of truth, O brother," said Ram -Nad. - -"Very good. But see here! When you churn things in that remarkable -basket of yours, and they are gone, and I ask: 'Where are they?' you -invariably say: 'They have become general ideas.' When I ask why I -can't see or touch them, you answer, 'General ideas are not visible or -tangible, but are of the mind purely.' Sometimes, at this point, I have -perhaps ejaculated, 'Gammon!' I apologise. Sometimes, on the other hand, -you have exclaimed, 'Imbecile!' I forgive. The question is this: -What's the difference between being generalised in a basket, and being -generalised by drowning? Are they not the same? Or do you follow my -argument, illustrious?" - -Ram Nad considered. - -"This is a worthy inquiry, O brother. It may be your mind is at -last becoming capable of thought? But how shall I answer. Is there a -difference? Should I not answer that there is none?" - -"There can't be, Ram Nad, there can't be!" I exclaimed. "Reason proves -it. Then, see here! Why can't you, then, restore Georgiana and Dolores? -It's all the same, for reason proves it." - -If there did, as I fancied, for an instant pass over Ram Nad's -patriarchal face, into his meditative eyes, an expression, if not of -cunning, at least of a certain pleasant humanity, it vanished quickly. - -"You have yourself answered," he said. - -"The difference is this: if the cat and hen of inquiry had been -generalised here by me, I could so restore them; but because they are -drowned, I am not able. Therefore the question is answered." - -"I see. That was the point. I thought maybe you could--a pardonable -mistake--your talents are so extraordinary. I thought you might be a -resurrectionist on the side. You'll excuse me, I'm sure." - -Ram Nad withdrew again behind the whites of his eyes, and I returned to -the awning, reflecting. Ram Nad had lacked hypnotic subjects since Mrs. -Ulswater put her foot down on his fixing any human inhabitant of the -_Violetta_ that way. - -But it struck me I'd never known a man with so fine an outfit for -casuistry as Ram Nad, such a liquid and euphuistic term for slaughter -and theft, such philosophic refinement in the practical process. Thus: -you generalise your neighbour's watch. It becomes an abstract idea, and -belongs to the original nebulous unity of pure conception. You go around -the corner and concentrate your mind on the idea till it's particular -again. You get about the same watch. Maybe not. Pretty similar. It -seemed so to me. - -"I pass," I said to Mrs. Ulswater. "Who plays next? Ram Nad's got 'em, -that's my penetrative opinion; but he can bluff like a fire engine." - -"I'm going to give him a piece of my mind," said Mrs. Ulswater, -indignantly. - -"Why, my dear," I said, "I don't believe it would fetch them. I believe -Ram Nad could put even a piece of your mind into his basket, and churn -it to a harmless generality. I do indeed. Your play, Sadler." - -"Spank him," murmured Sadler, sleepily. - -"Ha! King Ogel! Hum! Why didn't we induce Ram Nad to generalise that -king? Mightn't it have had a sort of--shall I say?--a refining effect, -a deodourising effect? Well, maybe not. Spanking was, in his case, -I should say, bracing, suggestive; as applied to a king, I admit its -point. But, now, as applied to a patriarch, I should draw the line, I -really should. Your turn, Susannah." - -Susannah sprang up and started across the deck toward Ram Nad. We -watched her in silence, in expectation. She stood before him a moment -conversing, then dragged the conical basket around in front of him, and -of her own accord climbed into it. This was interesting. We all three -arose and drew near them, while Ram Nad covered the opening with a -corner of his loose garments, and fell to that familiar procedure -resembling the motion by which, with fork or spoon, the energetic -housewife blends and fuses the delicately organised egg into a yellow -somewhat, an inorganic mess. - -Wherein Ram Nad's skill or secret consisted, its scientific theory, -I did not--I do not now--profess or expect to know. I call him an A1 -magician, and pass the deal. Did it consist in hypnotic deception of the -observer? I incline to that idea, on account of the element of gammon -therein. Was it some unusual sleight of hand? Was it a knowledge and -control of some occult but natural law? I have at times leaned to that -hypothesis, only to return again either to gammon or the pleasant repose -of a gaseous doubt. He appeared to be able on request, with any object -not too large to go into his absorbent basket, there to dissolve the -said object into nothing. You could look into the basket. You could feel -with the hand. You could search Ram Nad's clothes, or comb his beard. -You would come to the end of ultimate wisdom, and conclude to pass the -deal. Then, on request, he would reproduce the object. - -Susannah is not a large object; she is about the size of Mrs. Ulswater. - -"You're sure she isn't taking any harm?" said Mrs. Ulswater, peering -into the mysteriously empty basket. "What on earth did you do with her? -Well, she's not there. Fetch her out." - -Ram Nad covered the opening, churned a bit, and then rolled up the -whites of his eyes and concentrated his mind. - -"Stuff!" said Mrs. Ulswater, "You're pretending." - -"Show not knowledge to a woman," said Ram Nad, politely, "but -indulgence." - -"Fiddlesticks!" - -He turned the basket upside down. Mrs. Ulswater tipped it over. - -By the sacred Bo Tree, by the antiseptic waters of Benares, what is the -wisdom of the East against the logic of Susannah? - -"Susannah!" I cried. Sadler and I clasped hands and danced, glorious and -flamboyant, in the circular manner of a "ring-round-rosy." - -"Susannah, hosannah!" I cried, and Sadler chaunted: - - "Ram Nad, you're a son of a gun, tralala, - - Ram Nad, if that isn't one, tralala, - - On you I don't happen to know," - -and continued, chaunting: - - "You'd better quit sinning of sins, tralala, - - Or you'll maybe be breaking your shins, tralala, - - On things you don't happen to know." - -For there on the deck, smiling quaintly, sat Susannah! There, clasped, -one in each of her arms, were Georgiana and Dolores! - -Ram Nad rose silently. Martyred meekness was the foundation of his -facial expression. Dignity and charity were its fringes and decorations. -He went forward among the sailors. - -Calm was restored. Susannah explained. She had thought that, if Ram Nad -had put Georgiana and Dolores in some sort of place, and if he did -the same thing to her, perhaps she would be in the same place, and -why shouldn't she find them? Such was Susannah's logic, simple, yet -transcendental. Questioned on the matter of being churned, she said that -she began to feel very comfortable and soft, and then something like -custard, and then like custard that was all around everywhere; that is, -she was both custard herself and contained in custard; and so, reaching -out in the custard of which she consisted, she caught hold of Georgiana -and Dolores. So far Susannah. Such is all the evidence bearing on this -singular event. - -"Susannah," I said, "I like your analysis. Do you happen to feel -anything in the nature of a ballad beginning to--to root around inside -you? Because--here is the point. This ballad, as it stands, of Georgiana -and Dolores, you see----" - -"That!" said Susannah, scornfully, "that's no good now. It isn't so." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII--CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S LAST MANUSCIPT - - -|FOR four reasons we purpose now to move, by summery stages and many an -ocean isle, to Portate, whither these, my written words, will perhaps -not long precede us. - -The four reasons: First; the poet Sadler claims to have been once -banished by executive edict from the city of Portate, and has a notion -he would like to examine his condition of exile, so to speak, at close -range; to poke once more a certain irascible Jefe Municipal, or Mayor, -doubtless of your acquaintance, in the midriff of his temper. Second; -Mrs. Ulswater seems to have a singular hankering affection for one -who, she says, "was the nicest boy there is,"--a distinct opinion in a -confusion of tenses. - -Third; the poet Susannah. Now what the bearing may be, in Mrs. -Ulswater's mind, of Portate on Susannah, is not so clear to me. But to -me this is clear, that Susannah is in a way outgrowing the capacity of -islands. She is in need, I admit, of a continental connection. Fourth; I -have some researches to make in South-American archaeology. - -Ah, Susannah! What is there about this frank maidenhood that a mist -sometimes gathers in Mrs. Ulswater's lucid eyes in looking at her. -Susannah's nature is not, as yet, I should say, compact of softest -sentiment. Passionate in affection, sudden in resolve, terrific in -action, given to valour and wrath, why about her should the emotions of -this vessel all dance in a species of harmonious jig? Why should this -concussive and rebounding person rouse in my own glutinous nature a -phosphorescent glow, as of a jelly fish, and cause my languid tentacles -of emotion to flutter about like a flag in the wind? Why lies the -melancholy Sadler tonight on the small of his back in a deck chair, his -knees hooked over the rail, his feet pendant above the sea, and, in a -foggy voice, to an abominable tune and the twankle of an exasperating -banjo, sing: - - "Good night, my Starlight, - - Queen of my heart. - - You are my star bright, - - We are apart. - - Me where the high seas - - Thunder and smite, - - You in your sky dreams, - - Good night, Starlight." - -I do not, indeed, apprehend Sadler to be directly addressing Susannah, -as such, in these terms and with that inharmonious vocalisation; but I -apprehend the impact of Susannah upon Sadler to arouse in him something -other than jubilation, something within the sunless caverns of his -memory, certain uneasy glimmerings of an old romance. And I ask, why? -To the eye of pure reason, Susannah contains as much of the vapour of -moonlit sentiment as a coal scuttle. The eye of pure reason, after any -continuous examination of Susannah, feels as if it had been in a prize -fight, and emerged therefrom a blackened optic and out of business for -the time. And yet there arises--hark! again, above the low breath of the -sea wind, rises that melancholy song: - - " Good night, my Starlight, - - Trembling to tears, - - White is my hair, white - - In the wake of the years. - - Over the lee wave - - You shine on my night, - - Me, the old sea waif, - - Good night, Starlight?" - - - Yours--Ulswater. - -(End of Dr. Ulswater's Fourth and Last Manuscript. ) - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII--I RESUME THE NARRATIVE. THE PORTATE ULTIMATUM - - -|THE city of Portate, on the west coast of South America, when I knew -it, had already a distinct flavour of enterprise. Two Northern companies -had much to do with its affairs. One of them, The Union Electric, had -the trolleys and the street lighting; the other had been longer on the -ground, was called The Transport Company, and owned the inland railroad -and the principal line of steamers in the harbour. I had charge of The -Union Electric plant. Both were large companies operating in numerous -South-American cities. - -There is a river called the Jiron, which runs down from the mountains, -and makes a green strip through a desert land, and so on through Portate -to the sea. Even from the sea you can make out the white caps of the -Andes; but in the heats of Portate, you decline to believe that the -white is snow. - -Portate is the seaport of the country. There is a telegraph line running -inland to the capital. The monkeys do gymnastics on the wires, and the -natives steal sections of it to tie their roofs on with, on the theory -that the thing is plain foolishness, and the enterprise of fools is the -profit of the wise. Then you go around and lam the native and take the -wire, but he stays by his own opinion, and the Government wants to know -what you mean by allowing official messages to be interrupted; for, they -say, monkeys and roofs are not in the contract, and call it improper -frivolity to mention them: "Why tie on roofs with official messages? -Why improperly submit important business to the gymnastics of creatures -without intelligence?"--till you come out of it by swearing yourself -blood relation to all the monkeys on the Jiron, which seems as -satisfactory as anything, being put down to the inherited madness of the -Northerner. There are several varieties of monkeys on the Jiron. - -In the city of Portate there are wharves, which float off to sea in -freshets, and have to be pursued and brought back in disgrace. The -trolley line goes from the wharves to the Plaza, and then visiting -about town. The telephones and electric lights are the pride of the -enlightened, but the unenlightened think they are run by connection with -that pit of the sinful about which Padre Rafael is an authority. - -"For, observe! It is not as wood that it burns. _Madr de Dios_, no! It -is the wrath of the devil on the end of a stick." - -The Union Electric had the contract for the whole outfit of the lights -and trolleys, and sent me down to handle it. I had good nerve then. I -thought electricity was king, and that a man could do anything he set -out to do. He can, but my nerve is not so good now. - -Now The Union Electric Company's contract was to furnish the city of -Portate so many arc lights, at so much a month per light, with monthly -payments, but there was more politics in it than I was used to. It took -me some time to see that if the Mayor bought a set of gilt furniture -on the 28th, and the paymaster a span of horses on the 29th, it wasn't -reasonable to bring them a city lighting bill on the 30th. But they -thought it unreasonable, and after awhile I came near thinking so too. -I had to get five signatures to each bill, and the signatures took turns -going off into the country between the 30th and the 15th. After that -they generally came with protests in parentheses, that arc No. 53 had -been observed by respected gentlemen to sputter improperly, and that -arc No. 5, on a certain night, had refused to burn, in contempt of -authority,--which was because a native had heaved a stone into it, out -of religious scruples. They were always in arrears. - -They liked it that way. They said it was delay in tax-collecting. It was -very warm. Did the Senor suffer from the heat? Alas! the tax collector -was too fat. It had been represented to his Excellency that tax -collectors should be thinner. They were thirty thousand dollars behind. -It seemed to me that the city of Portate was too happy. It didn't have -troubles enough. - -I went to see the Mayor, what they call the "Jefe Municipal." - -He was a puffy old man, of about the fatness of the tax collector, but -smaller, and wore a white moustache and imperial in such a way that it -seemed to be his symbol of authority. - -I said, "Mayor, the city owes me thirty thousand dollars." - -"Is it possible!" he cried, holding up his hands. "But we do pay you too -much. How does the city owe you so much if it is not too much?" - -That was good tropical logic. Tropical logic always confused me. - -"My friend," he said, "is it not in your country also that the -corporation oppresses the people?" - -"The Union Electric," I said, "doesn't do business for love of humanity, -and it didn't send me down here for my health." - -"Alas! No?" sighed the Mayor, wiping his forehead. "The corporations -are without souls, pitiless. I read it in a newspaper, that also of -the United States. But if the Senor's health is delicate, a trip to the -hills---" - -"I give you till Wednesday night." - -He brightened up. - -"It is a festival night. The municipal band will play in the Plaza. The -people will dance. Portate is a city of pleasure, a second Paris. And -you, Senor, will honour us, on the balcony of the magistrates." - -"Thirty thousand dollars by Wednesday night, or I shut off the lights. -With great regret, your Excellency----" - -"Senor----" - -"It's an ultimatum. Allow me to express, nevertheless----" - -The Mayor rose, smiling. - -"Nevertheless, you will observe the festival. A delight, Senor, a -panorama!" - -I went over and tried to impress the paymaster, but he wouldn't be -impressed either. He said arc No. 38 was shining persistently into the -upper-story windows of the house of a municipal councillor, against his -honour and privacy. He said the son of the municipal councillor was -to marry his, the paymaster's daughter, and The Union Electric Company -oughtn't to disturb such alliances. I went down to the plant as fast -as possible, feeling in the mind to see people that were reasonable and -steady, like the six dynamos. - -Chepa was my foreman's name, and a good man he was--a half-breed of -fifty years perhaps, with gray hair about his ears. I told him I was -going to shut off the lights if they didn't pay up, and Chepa's hair -stood on end. He said I was a distinguished gentleman, and would be shot -for an anarchist together with himself. - -"Mother of heaven! It will be a hot time. Behold me! I am game!" - -I told him he wouldn't need any more heroism than came natural. I only -wanted him to switch off, and throw the machines out of gear at nine -o'clock Wednesday night, and then disappear for a day or two. - -"Don't let them lay eyes on a hair of you." - -That was Saturday if my memory is right, the third of May. It came on -Wednesday without any more interviews. The day was hot, and I didn't -see that the tax collector was getting thinner with extra labour of -collecting taxes. But the preparations for the festival were going -on, so innocent and peaceful it would break your heart to see, with -ridiculous strips of coloured cloth around the wax-palms on the Plaza; -for a wax-palm grows a hundred and fifty feet high, and looks like a -high-born lady; and red and white stripes around the foot of her, like -a barber's pole, aren't becoming. I sent up a man with the bill in -the afternoon, and he came back saying the Mayor was so busy with his -uniform that he wouldn't look at him. I gave orders to shut off the -switch at nine o'clock. About eight in the evening I disguised myself -with a cloak and a villainous slouch hat, and left my house, which was a -mile out of the city, though handy to the plant. The cook had run off -to the Plaza, and I plugged up the telephone, so it was a house that -couldn't be conversed with. Then I walked into town. - -The Mayor's uniform and several other uniforms were on the balcony -of magistrates, the Mayor making a speech to the effect that it was -a municipality without parallel, a second Paris, which civilisation -regarded universally, and exclaimed, "Behold Portate!" There was Padre -Rafael, standing directly under an electric light, and it was curious to -see him with that kind of saint's glory around him, and smiling like a -plaster cast of Benevolence. Whoop-bang! went the brass band, with the -bass drum miscellaneous, and the cornets audacious, and the trombones -independent, but aiming, you might say, at a similar tune. And all the -Plaza fell to dancing and conversing, with the fountain in the middle -sprinkling recklessly, and the wax-palms done up in red and white -bunting, and the electric light shining uncannily, with their bills -unpaid. - -"Come up, Padre Rafael!" shouts the Mayor presently, catching sight -of his reverence, "to the balcony of the magistrates. It is a glorious -occasion." He puffed out his chest so anybody could admire that liked. - -And then the lights went out, and the band ended off with a grunt and a -squeal. - -The Plaza was black as a hat, only for a few lights in the windows, and -quite silent for a moment. I lit out when the howls began. It seemed to -me they'd sound better from a distance. There were people running and -shouting along the pitch-black streets. But getting into the outskirts -of the city, I found there were a few stars shining, and came home -without trouble. I sat down on a bench in the garden and waited. It was -a hundred yards or more from the house. It was very peaceful, with all -manner of tropical scents floating around. Shutting down the lights of -Portate didn't seem to bother the rest of South America. - -By and by a carriage drove up, and there was a deal of banging at the -doors, and tramping around the house. I thought it was an under-official -that threw a rock through the window, not a real dignitary. Later there -was another carriage, more banging and tramping. - -I went to bed after that. I don't know how long they tried to telephone -from the City Hall--the telephone didn't say. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV--THE ARREST - - -|WHEN I awoke in the morning, the sunlight was shining brightly through -the shutters, and I lay awhile getting things straightened out in my -mind, wondering what the authorities would do next, and sorting my own -cards. Then I noticed a murmuring all about, not like a conversation of -a few people, but like the voices of a crowd at some distance. I took a -cautious peek. Oh, my native country! The yard was full of soldiers of -the City Guard in their pink uniforms, all squatting on the ground very -dejectedly. - -"Hi!" I thought. "There's no hurry about getting dressed. The cook must -have stayed shy, or they'd have got me." - -I never saw that cook again. I've heard that he came on the soldiers -about three o'clock in the morning, camping in the front yard. Their -orders were to stay there till I came home. The cook went off into the -country to avoid politics. - -"Speaking of the cook now," I said to myself, "they'll arrest me without -breakfast. They'll march me into town afoot, like a malefactor. It won't -do for the dignity of The Union Electric." - -With that I wrapped myself and the telephone in double blankets, took -out the plug, and cautiously rang up a livery-stable. - -"Carriage!" I said, "to Senor Kirby's house, North Road, in an hour." - -Then I prospected in the kitchen on tiptoe, and collected a spirit-lamp -and such matters, got dressed, and breakfasted behind the shutters -with a calmness that was a bit artificial. The City Guard wasn't -breakfasting. By the calamitous features of the elderly officer sitting -on my horse-block, they didn't expect to. El Capitano Lugo was his name, -and a very friendly man, after breakfast. - -I sat smoking behind the shutters, and waited for the carriage, which -came along leisurely about nine. The soldiery destroyed the picket-fence -getting into the road all together. - -"What news?" said El Capitano Lugo. - -The driver was a scared man. - -"Eh!" he said. "But I know nothing, Senor Capitano, nothing! Carriage to -Senor Kirby, North Road. A telephone." - -"It is an empty house, idiot!" - -With that they were all crowded close about the carriage, talking in low -tones, but excited. It was about ghosts, as the captain told me after, -and there ran a theory among them that I had been a spirit for the last -twelve hours, turning off lights and sending telephones to avenge the -atrocity of my murder. - -But it got no farther than a theory, because of the opening of the door, -and me coming out on the porch in duck trousers, polka-dot tie, and a -calm that was artificial. - -"Is that my carriage?" I asked. - -"Ah!" shouted the captain, making for me, over the wrecks of the -picket-fence. I said: - -"How d'ye do?" - -"I arrest you!" said he. - -"Of course you do. Get into the carriage." - -And off we went bowling toward the city, with the guard plodding far -behind in pink uniforms, and very dejected. Captain Lugo himself would -answer nothing when I tried to show him that pink uniforms were in bad -taste for a city guard. - -But, oh, the extravagance of language at the City Hall, and the Mayor -with his beautiful temper in ruins! - -"Intolerable! The contempt of dignity, the mockery of constituted power! -By whose orders were the lights turned off?" - -"Mine, your Excellency, of course. Told you all about it last Saturday." - -"_ la carcel!_" he shouted, with his official moustache standing up at -the ends. "He has despised the city. Take him to jail, hastily." - -"You'd better look out," I said. "It's an international complication. -The United States will be capturing Portate with an extension of the -Monroe Doctrine," I said, fishing wildly for an argument. - -"Insolent foreigner!" said he. - -"May Portate be darkened forever!" said I. - -"_A la crcel!_" said he, and four pink uniforms hustled me and my duck -trousers out into the street and around the corner to the jail. - -Now that was an unpleasing place to be in. I charged up fifty dollars -for the experience, to The Union Electric Company, who said it was a -good joke and paid it, eventually; but it wasn't a joke. - -The jail was an expanse of deal-wall on the street, except at one place -where there was an architectural doorway. And within there was a large -patio or courtyard, a low adobe building surrounding it, with rows -of open cells, and a sort of cemented veranda in front. That was the -Portate City Jail entire. There were guards at the door. They shoved you -in, and you did what you chose. There were groups of dirty peons lolling -about, others playing some game with pebbles and fragments of cement, -two women who had been officially interrupted while pounding each -other's heads, a donkey, some cats, and a sad-eyed pig, all arrested for -vagrancy. - -I sent a guard up to the hotel for a chair, and sat down haughtily in -the corner of the veranda behind the gateway and farthest from the sun. -The groups of peons gathered around me. Their manners were naturally -good, but they couldn't avoid the romantic fascination of me. I sent -another guard with a telegram to the United States Minister and a -message for the resident Consul. I gave the guard a dollar to buy -tobacco and cigarette papers, and compromised with the friendly peons. -We agreed on a circle twenty feet away, which was near enough for -conversation, and far enough for a draught between. There was a wall of -them, all supplied with cigarettes, and me the centre of observation. -We discussed the government of Portate, and there was no one in the City -Jail but thought it needed reform. - -By and by the Consul came, and he was so interested and pleased with the -situation that he wasn't up to the duties of his office, as I told him. -He said the Mayor was in luck, on account of the extreme heat up-country -at the capital. - -"My guess at the Mayor is: he's figuring to keep you in jail over night -for the sake of his dignity, and cover you with documentary apologies in -the morning," said the Consul. "And I've been telegraphing the Minister, -and can't get him; for he's gone hunting up the cool of the mountains -with the President of the Republic, the Minister of the Interior, and -some other official parties. I say, why did you pick out a festival and -presidential excursion day? You bold, bad man! said he, sticking his -hands in his pockets and laughing at me. - -"Stay here all night!" I shouted. - -"Can't help it," said the Consul, grinning. "I've done all I could. -He'll get into trouble likely. What can I do, if he wants to run his -risk and stand by his luck?" - -"I'll denounce you at home for inefficiency." - -"Have a cot bed?" - -"Get out!" - -"Pleasant dreams!" he said. "It 'll be a hot night;" and with that he -went off grinning. - -The afternoon wore away slowly. I began to think the Mayor might have -me down after all, and wondered if Chepa would run the plant that night -with a detachment of pink soldiery over him. I sent a guard after some -lunch. No one else came except my lawyer, who brought some newspapers, -and said the Mayor was blushing all over with happiness and conceit. He -said there were crowds in the Plaza, and sure enough you could hear the -mutter and shuffle of them, for the Plaza was but a few blocks away. -It seemed to me they were making more noise than before, and when the -lawyer was gone, and the afternoon was late, it seemed to have grown to -a kind of dull roaring, with shouts and howls intermixed. The peons in -the patio were stirring about, too, and jabbering. The dusk was coming -on faintly. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV--MRS. ULSWATER'S INSURRECTION - - -|THERE was a clatter and tramp of feet in the street outside. The door -of the patio flew open with a bang. - -"Take your dirty hands off me!" Bang, went the door again, and there in -the patio stood a little squat Irishman with red hair and stubby black -clay pipe in his mouth. - -"What's the matter?" I called to him, for his hair was rumpled and -his coat torn, with rough handling. He ran to me, and the crowd, the -simple-hearted criminality of Portate, gathered around us. - -"Hoosh!" he said. "It's an insurrection, sor. I'm arristed for -distributin' insidjus proclamations in backwoods Casthilian, an' the -guards has taken me last copy, tellin' how The Mayor has Tyrannously -Arristed the Electric Lights! Release Misther Kirby or Down wid the -Mayor! Shall Portate be Darkened? Citizens, Rise!' Oh, hivens, me -entherprise and adventures!" - -"Comb down your red hair," I said, "and go on." - -"It's auburrn, sor!" - -"It's fine shade of gold, you Hibernian Apollo! Who in time are you?" - -"I come in yesterday evenin' on the _Violetta_" - -"What!" - -"Yes, sor. Me name's Hagan, but Sadler's gone away from me, an' I have -the trimbles in me bones." - -"Well, I'll be shot! Are they all right?" - -"Sure, they are." - -"Go ahead then." - -"Well, sor, me an' Sadler an' the docther, we got ashore as soon as we -could. 'Twas in the early evenin', an' thim two went off somewhere -for somewhat; and me, I went down Bolivar Street to an old haunt of me -mimories, to see what was there. An' who should come out of the caffy -but Chepa. Sure, he's your foreman now, but onct he was me frind an' -dispised acquaintance in this city of sinfulness many a year ago. 'Red -hair!' says he wid a shriek. 'Auburrn!' says I, 'ye grizzly Dago.' -An' wid that we ombraced. 'Och, Jimmie!' he says, 'you're the man I'm -wantin',' he says. 'Where's Sadler?' 'I dunno,' I says, 'not just now. -He's around the town.' 'Tis happy he'll be then this night,' he says, -'for society an' politics,' he says, 'an' populations an' powers 'll be -playin' discordant chunes,' he says. 'Come on,' he says, 'an' help me -ungear thim dynamos.' Wid that we started for the plant, an' me not -knowin' at all the divilmint that was goin', an' we come to the plant, -and Chepa set the dynamos buzzin' like bees, an' thin sat down an' -explained his language wid information. 'At nine o'clock,' he says, 'I -shut 'em off and disables the machinery,' an' he did. Then we come back -through the town by the back streets. There was wicked rage in the heart -of Portate. She wint to bed in the dark, and had bad dreams. But we -come down to the docks an' hired a boat out to the _Violetta_, and we -told the missus and the young la-ady about it. After awhile comes out -the boys in the gig wid a letther from the docther sayin' him an' Sadler -was gone up counthry on a night thrain in pursuit of South-American -archylogy. 'Kit,' says the missus, readin' it out to the young la-ady, -'Kit seems to have this city in a barrel, an' he's plugged the shpigot, -an' where in the barrel he is I dunno,' he says, 'for we've been to the -electric plant and we've banged on the doorway of his house, an' nothin' -happened, an' Portate is tumultuous and dark. Wherefore,' he says, 'I -argue he ain't expectin' company to-night, an' me an' Sadler is goin' up -counthry afther archylogy,' he says, 'to be back to-morry.' 'Goodness!' -says the missis, an' she an' the young la-ady went down for the night, -an' me an' Chepa passed it cool an' balmy. This mornin' the missis -sent us ashore for news. But oh, the sights of the ragin' city! Oh, the -throuble an' combustion of it! A crowd of men grabs us at the corner. -'Gintlemen,' says Chepa, 'respected sehores, 'tis the wickedness of the -Jefe,' he says, 'a-spindin' on gilt furniture the hard-earned taxes of -the people, collected by the tax collector,' he says, 'wid the shweat of -his fatness. For Sehor Kirby,' he says, 'to the great sorrow of himself, -havin' run out of electricity, is unable to buy more on account of the -avarice and theft of the beast of a thief of a Jefe,' he says, and they -thought so too. By and by comes the news of yourself arristed and put in -jail. 'Jimmie,' says Chepa, 'it will not do.' I says 'It will not.' An' -we broke away an' went back to the _Violetta_. An very interested they -were, sor, the missis an' the young la-ady, askin' questions, an' then -a-studyin' an' a-lookin' at ache other. 'Well,' says the missis, 'I -wish Doctor Ulswater hadn't gone, but it's the Jefe's fault an' not Mr. -Kirby's, an' I think you were quite right, Mr. Chepa,' she says, 'to -tell the people so. But of coorse you could only tell a few,' she says, -'an' I suppose most of thim think it's Mr. Kirby's to blame, an' I think -we ought to stop that,' she says, 'so I think we'd bet-ther have a lot -of bills printed to explain.'--'Hooroar!' says the young la-ady, jumpin' -up and wavin' herself in the atmosphere. 'I'll write it!' An' wid that -she grabs Chepa an' plumps down wid him on the carpet, an' what wid thim -two composin' inflaminous proclamations, an' me a shmokin' me poipe wid -terror in me bosim an' me face smeared over wid insidjous calm, an' -the missis a lookin' off at Portate, wid her knittin' in her hand and -statesmanship an' revolution in her eye, 'twas a ould-shtyle Fenian -meetin', sor, an' down wid the landlords! 'It's hot,' says Chepa, manin' -the proclamation. 'There's no foreign governmint to rescue Chepa wid -diplomacy. They'll hang me,' he says, 'an' 'tis no matther. Behold me, -senora! I am game.' 'You must stay here,' says the missis. 'Jimmie will -have the bills printed and posted.' 'Oh, senora!' says Chepa, lookin' -hurt. 'Of coorse you're not afraid,' she says--an' I wished she knew -that I was--'but it'd be bad for you to be arristed,' she says, 'an' -besides there's another reason.' It lies in the nature of things, sor, -to do what the missis says. There's no help for it. I came into Portate -alone, wid myself, an' gold in me trousers pocket which I changes to the -barbarious paper money of the counthry an' scuttles off to a printer. -'Set it up!' I says, showin' barbarious money. 'Print it!' An' he did -so, wid the fear of consequences an' the lust of avarice. But, sor, -ye should have seen the amazin' innocence an' wrath of the populace, -a-jumpin' all over the Plaza, a-howlin', a-wavin' proclamations an' -blackguardin' the Mayor for arristin' the lights. Prisintly comes a line -of soldiers wrigglin' through the crowd, an' one of 'em raps me over the -head with the butt of his gun, out of the mistherable shpite of him, an' -they takes me red-handed in the disthribution of proclamations, an' up -we goes, up the steps of the City Hall, before the public was onto the -insult to its liberties. An' oh, the terrible language of the Mayor, -a-kickin' over chairs in the corridor! 'To prisin,' says he, tearin' -his hair tremendjous. 'Ye'll be shot in the mornin',' says he. Then they -took me out the back alley, an' down here sudden, bein' punched in the -back wid the butt ends of the rifles of a misfit soldiery, an' thim's -the facts." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI--THE TRUCE - - -|SO spoke Jimmie Hagan. We sat looking at each other, and smoking -silently for a moment. I got up and shooed the motley collection of -human things around us back to a pleasanter distance, and sat down again -to think. But still I didn't see altogether what Mrs. Ulswater thought -she was going to do with her insurrection. It was a good idea of hers -to keep Chepa aboard the _Violetta_. But a mob is like dynamite, and a -person ought to have a considerable idea before he takes it on himself -to explode one. A Portate mob is a maniac that cuts throats in the name -of the saints, and forgets what started him, and he scatters destruction -in all directions. For a man said to be without sand, I thought Hagan -had done pretty well. - -"Sor," he said, "it's this way. I knew the Mayor long ago, an' Sadler -knew him well, an' I know the Mayor's the same man wid the tempestchus -bowels of him, for he's a nice man when he's cheerful, but he's not a -wise man when there's trouble comin'. Well, sor, Sadler nor the docther -ain't here, an' what one of them doesn't know the other does. An' some -men was born to order and others to take orders, an' I dunno. But, if -the Kid was here things'd be doin'. Well, sor, the docther is filled -up wid handy knowledge more'n a bushel of pertaties wid perta-ties, -but when it comes to makin' up his mind, it's the missis does it. -The _Violetta_ carries more contagious brains than's native in South -America, an' you're askin' what the missis had in mind, an' I dunno. -But Chepa says there's only two men in Por-tate can start them disabled -machines for to-night's lightin', to say nothin' there's not a trolley -runnin' in the city this day. An' where's those two men? One of 'em's -here. The other's on the _Violetta_, but the Mayor don't know where he -is. Well, sor, what can he do? It's not for me to say, but there's -the populace shlingin' stones at the City Hall this blissid minute -in persuasion of the Mayor's wickedness. An' who persuaded 'em of the -Mayor's wickedness? Trolleys they don't so much care for, but there'll -be lights or shootin', an' the Mayor'd needn't be foolish, an if ye ask -me, I'll say it's the missis has got the soople intilligence, an' no -throuble at all. Hark to 'em now!" - -The roar of the crowd had grown to be tremendous, and they were probably -throwing stones. What, indeed, could the Mayor do? The peons about -us were chattering in excited groups, and the guards at the gate were -distinctly uneasy. If the mob came there, I could make a fair guess what -the guards would do. - -There was a sudden clatter in the streets, of hoofs and wheels on bad -pavement. Again the great wooden door flew open with a bang. Entered the -paymaster, another agitated official, and an officer in pink and white, -who bowed and smiled at me affectionately. - -"You are released, senor," said the officer. - -"Oh, I am! And this gentleman too?" - -"Impossible, senor. His Excellency is determined. With you, senor, he -requests a friendly interview." - -"He won't get it." - -"His Excellency is in a carriage at the door." - -It was not fifty feet to the open door. His Excellency seemed to have -lost flesh with the excitement and anguish of his mind. - -"Oo-aa!" came over from the Plaza, that indescribable roar. - -"Oh, senor!" he cried with enthusiasm. "It is the will of the people -that we be reconciled. Enough. We are reconciled." - -"Not yet, Mayor. My red-haired friend here----" - -"Impossible!" - -"Not a light, then. Bury it all, Mayor. The wisest plan." - -"But the proclamations! Abominable, public, infamous!" - -"Oh, quite wrong, of course." - -"You admit it!" - -"He must be pardoned." - -"To-morrow." - -"Now!" - -"Oo-aa!" from the Plaza, that hair-raising yell. - -The Mayor shivered. Then he gathered up his dignity with the -gracefulness of a lady picking up her skirts, and finished the game like -a fallen but romantic potentate. "Enough," he said. "I yield." - -We drove to the Plaza, Jimmie Hagan on the carriage-springs behind, the -Mayor and I standing on the seat and holding hands for the public to see -the unlimited affection we had; the paymaster and the officer in pink -and white on the seat facing, waving their hats with unnatural joy, and -the other official on the seat with the driver. - -But what a sight was the Plaza! What a howling mass of faces, open -mouths, hands gesticulating, all fading and dimly seen at a few hundred -feet from the carriage, for the night was falling fast. - -"Excellency," I said, "you owe me thirty thousand dollars. We'll stop at -the bank." - -"Just at present, senor, the public's balance is low, but----" - -"On the contrary--or rather, we'll step in and see." - -"To-morrow, senor----" - -"Excellency," I said, "I don't care one little bit at all whether it's -out of the city's deposit, or your private account, or whether there's -any difference between them. But there won't be a light till every -dollar is paid. Moreover, this mob is nervous. Moreover, here's the -bank." - -We got down, and left the pink and white officer in the carriage with -the two other officials. The Mayor stalked grimly ahead of me into the -bank, and the thirty thousand was paid. - -I made the plant in a carriage in ten minutes. Three scared furnace -tenders were there, in charge of a company of pink soldiers. Among them -they had two dynamos more or less mutilated trying to switch them -on with a pick-axe. At last I got things running, turned on the main -switch, and saw the nearby streets leap into brightness. - -When Hagan and I came back through the town about eight o'clock, the -band was playing in the Plaza, the people rejoicing among the palm -trees, which were done up in bunting, and the Mayor was making a speech -from the balcony of magistrates to the effect that Portate was a centre -of civilisation, a second Paris. - -It occurred to me that I was carrying thirty thousand dollars in my -pocket, and wasn't a steel vault. The lights were going anyway for -to-night, and maybe some public functionary's private bandit might be -looking for me. I ought to have deposited before going to the plant, or -perhaps--but there was the _Violetta_, which would be safer still. - -We dodged the Plaza, and went down to the docks. Not a boatman -was about. I untied a row boat, and we rowed out, looking for the -_Violetta_. It was easy to distinguish her, clean and white, glimmering -with bright port-holes. As we drew near we could see the polished -brasses shining under the stars. The cool sea wind on the bay and the -soft lapping of waves against the boat were pleasant to feel and hear, -after the heat and noise of Portate. The sight of the _Violetta_, neat -and compact, made me homesick for the temperate zone and my own people -of the North, gray-eyed level-headed people, steady and reasonable. I -felt like a carrier pigeon come home. - -"_Violetta_, ahoy!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII--ON BOARD THE VIOLETTA - - -|CAPTAIN JANSEN met us at the gangway. There were some changes in the -look of the _Violetta_'s deck since last I had seen it, a year and a -half before, in the West Indies. The awning was new. Those geranium pots -were gone, which used to stand along the scuppers, and be carried down -every night and whenever the weather threatened. The world had been too -much for them. The same doilies were on the same rocking chairs. There -was the brown mahogany parlour table. But among objects that recalled -home conventions, something that breathed eastward, a tropic touch here -and there, had been admitted. A huge Burmese tapestry swung from one -side of the awning, and the breeze bayed it in, its green embroidered -serpents writhing lazily above an honest but uninspiring sofa from Grand -Rapids. Yellow Chinese mats from Singapore were on the deck in place of -the former flowered carpet. - -Mrs. Ulswater sat in her familiar rocking chair, small, thin, quiet, -and slightly precise; and on one of the mats, with her back against Mrs. -Ulswater's chair, sat a girl in a white dress, with dark hair, with very -definite eyebrows and a tilted, provocative nose. In front of her, on -another mat, sat Chepa smoking a cigarette. At some distance off, a -motionless figure in dingy white crouched in the shadow of the cabin, -whom I took to be Ram Nad engaged in abstraction. These were the -occupants of the after-deck. - -"Kit!" cried Mrs. Ulswater, dropping her knitting. Susannah sprang up -and cried: "Did we beat the Mayor?" - -I told them about the insurrection, Jimmie Hagan's arrest, and the -Mayor's surrender, and how I wanted Dr. Ulswater to take charge of The -Union Electric's cash. - -"I'm ever so much obliged for your insurrection, Mrs. Ulswater. As to -the Mayor--well, you've been around the world yourself since I saw you, -and got acquainted with the Gentile. What do you think of him?" - -"Whom do you mean by the Gentile?" - -"The alien, the uncanny human who isn't like us. His 'best is like his -worst,' isn't it? in our eyes, because both his best and his worst are -different from ours." - -"I like him better than I expected to," she answered. - -"Are you going to keep on rearranging him?" - -"I'm not so sure as I was what his arrangement is." - -"But the cruise of the _Violetta_ has been a success, hasn't it?" - -After a moment's thought she said: - -"When it began, I didn't know what I wanted, but I thought I should know -it when I saw it. And that was the way it turned out. I found out what -it was, when I found it. The doctor and Susannah are most of it." - -"It wasn't the missions, then?" - -"Not exactly. It's partly finding things to do, and doing them as they -come along." After a pause she said, as if changing the subject: - -"Do you think you can get on with the Mayor here, after all this?" - -"Why, that's the question. The Mayor has his virtues, but he doesn't -like insurrections or paying bills. If Providence didn't afflict him -with one or the other of those now and then, he might be a philosopher; -but now you speak of it, I shouldn't say he was a good loser. It's one -of the characteristics of the tropics, to carry grudges long and far." - -Susannah was looking at me gravely. - -"Do you make poetry?" she asked. - -"Not in the way of business," I said, still thinking of my troubles. -"It's Portate that introduces poetry into business. If I propose to the -Mayor to put in five hundred new lights, he proposes a procession. If I -tell him I'm going to repaint some of the trolley cars, he announces -it that night to the populace from the balcony of magistrates, and the -populace comes and asks me for a free ride, and The Union Electric's -employs claim it's a holiday. You see, Miss Romney----" - -"Why, I'm Susannah?" - -"Oh! Well, Susannah--You see, Susannah, Portate furnishes all the poetry -The Union Electric Company will stand. They can't afford to let me -decorate the situation too. That's why I have some doubts about the -ultimatum and the insurrection. They were rather decorative, weren't -they?" - -"I'm going to make poetry about you," said Susannah. - -She got up and walked away across the deck, in the manner of one -conducting powerful operations with the muses. She came to where the -dingy heap of eastern wisdom sat against the cabin wall. - -"Ram Nad!" we heard her say, with a stamp of the foot, "you go this -minute and get your shawl!" - -He rose silently, pale and venerable, and went down the companionway. - -"He catches cold easily," Mrs. Ulswater explained. "I told him not to -sit out evenings without his shawl." - -Chepa and Hagan had gone forward sometime before. Susannah paced the -deck apart with folded arms, making poetry about me. Mrs. Ulswater sat -in her rocking chair, knitting, listening, talking. - -I was thinking that she would have been a dangerous woman, with all that -will and reserve, if she had not happened to be honest and kind. She -could not help but foresee and devise. I wondered if she were plotting -and planning at the moment, and for whose benefit. Likely it was for -mine. I wondered if the Mayor were plotting and planning for my distress -or destruction at the same moment. Likely he was. I didn't much care. -Mrs. Ulswater had rearranged the tropics here and there, but they -had not rearranged her. It was about eleven o'clock. Susannah was -extraordinarily pretty. As the subject of a ballad by Susannah, of a -plot by Mrs. Ulswater, and another plot by the Mayor, supposing all -these things were going on, I seemed to be in the centre of things. - -At that moment the sound of oarlocks startled us. We rose and went to -the rail. A boat drew near on the dark water. On the surface of the -water the lights of the distant city made long broken reflections. -The boat drew up at the foot of the gangway, and Dr. Ulswater mounted, -followed by a large powerful man, gray-haired, with a long dangling -moustache and lean throat, carrying on his broad shoulders a large -oblong box. Behind them came up one of the boatman, carrying a trunk. -Susannah cried: - -"What's in the box?" - -And I said, catching sight of my initials, "Where'd you get my trunk?" - -"Jansen," said Dr. Ulswater, "get up steam. We leave as soon as you're -ready." A moment later we were seated under the awning; Mrs. Ulswater -in her rocking chair knitting and nowise excited; Susannah, her hands -clasped about her knees, back against the rocker, eagerly absorbing all -things; the doctor, the grizzled Sadler and I, each negotiating one -of the doctor's cigars. Chepa, with his cigarette, and Hagan, with his -black clay pipe and extravagant hair, squatted together on the deck. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII--HANNAH ATKINS - - -|WE sought you at your house, Kit," said Dr. Ulswater; "we sought you -also at the establishment where you generate that mystical fluid which -now travels meekly, invisibly, its slender wires, and now spits like a -red-hot cat. You electrical engineers have your fingers on the pulse of -the universe. I admire in you the representatives of the age. - -"The condition of affairs in Portate was most mixed and unclassified. -No light anywhere, except here and there a smoky lantern, and such -sulphurous beams as the eye of imagination might detect, or conceive, -gleaming from the bosoms of some thousands of furious citizens. We -reached the railway station with the feeling of having been miraculously -rescued. The town, however, was quieting down. Most of the citizens -had gone home to plot your assassination. Your ultimatum seemed to be -everywhere known. Evidently you were not meaning to be found that -night by friend or foe, and therefore Sadler and I went our way in the -interests of archology. - -"There is a national museum at the capital of this country, which -contains an extraordinary collection of Inca relics, but is as -disorderly as Portate emotions. Thither we went by the slowest train the -ingenuity of man ever invented, getting what sleep we could, through the -night, upon car seats of mistaken construction, each one of which was a -populous commonwealth of bugs. - -"Arrived at our destination in the morning, I found my way to the -Museum, and presently was buried from the world, lost to the present. -It must have been near noon when Sadler came and found me surrounded by -pottery, weapons, tools, and the swathed bundles of the mummied dead. - -"'Doctor,' he said; 'when's your birthday?' - -"I reflected. - -"'Bless my soul, it's to-morrow! This thing's got to stop! I'll be older -than an Inca!' - -"'You're a swaddled infant,' he said. I thought Mrs. Ulswater said it -was to-morrow. I've got a present for you.' - -"Birthdays, indeed! What had I to do with birthdays, who was reborn into -eternity on the day I married Mrs. Ulswater! I had no use for them. -I wished some one would make me a present of the treasures of that -mixed-up and ruinous museum, and rescue them for archaeology. Carvings! -Do you happen to know that the Inca signs of the Zodiac are practically -identical with the Egyptian, that, moreover, they probably antedate -them, that----" - -"No, we don't," interrupted Sadler. "It ain't so." - -"I can prove it to any man with eyes," shouted Dr. Ulswater, thumping -his knee. - -"Which I holds myself," said Sadler, gloomily, "that any man, with eyes, -can see as them signs of the Zodiac all comes from the jim-jams, and the -first man that made 'em was the first man that had drunk not wisely but -too often." - -"Ha!" said Dr. Ulswater. "Why! Now, that's an idea! It really is!" - -"Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Ulswater. "What was the present, and what -about it?" - -Susannah said, "What's in the box?" and I, - -"What are you doing with my trunk?" - -Dr. Ulswater wanted to stop there and discuss the origins of the -signs of the Zodiac, and the orderly narrative was getting into a bad -condition, but Sadler took it up. - -"Well, it was this way, ma'am," he said. "I left the doctor at the -Museum. Them mummies didn't look to me respectable, but maybe they are, -only as you told me to look after the doctor, I didn't know as I'd ought -to leave him in that there dissipated society. But I went off down the -street, and by and by I see a man I knew, named Sanchez Beteta. He used -to be a graceless young one, son of a poverty-stricken caballero who -lived on Valencia Street in Portate. Beteta was walking stately and -soft, and he had on patent-leather shoes that was pointed like pins, -and he had a cane that was an airy vision, and a buttonhole bouquet, and -fixings, and side whiskers, and clothes that was beautiful to make a bad -egg remember its young dreams, and he come along like his garments was -angels' wings. I says to myself: 'I want to be like that'; and I pokes -him in the chest sudden and solid, and I says, sort of ingratiating: - -"'Where'd you steal them clothes?' I says in West Coast Spanish. He -looked me over with a haughty eye. Then he says: - -"'If you're a ghost,' he says, 'I wished you'd fade away. How and why do -you exist, aged one?' and I says: - -"'Get me a bouquet and a cane. I want some vanity.' - -"Then we went and got them vanities, and paraded in glory on the -fashionable highway that's called 'The Paseo,' and he told me the origin -of his clothes. They came from his being in the Government, a sort -of Subcommissioner of National Monuments and Memorials, and from that -position's having some pickings of drumsticks while his superiors was -busy with other parts of the chicken. I told him how I'd come there, and -how electricity had played it dark on Portate, and how Dr. Ulswater was -at the Museum sorting out knowledge and wishing he had an Inca mummy for -home consumption. Beteta knew about Portate. It was in the morning paper -that's called 'El Patria.' Then he took to thinking. - -"'Would the learned senor,' he says, 'pay a price for a royal mummy? He -is, you say, of great wealth.' - -"I says: 'Why?' - -"'Because,' he says, 'I may have such an article to dispose of.' - -"'Which,' I says, 'is a fraud. It's made of mashed paper and it ain't -got no pedigree.' - -"'Not at all,' he says, 'not at all! I scorn you. Could I, who am but an -amateur, deceive one learned as your friend? It was in this way, simply. -Some years ago an ancient tomb was opened and found to contain mummies -of the family of the Inca, Huayna Capac. Of him you know nothing at -all, but your friend does, and without doubt he knows that most of that -family died during, or after, the Conquest. Without doubt he knows -of the tomb I speak of and its discovery. It was described in the -publications of science. Now the Museum is in my Department of Monuments -and Memorials, and somewhat under my charge, because of my great -interest in my country's antiquities. Also because of this interest I -was allowed to acquire one of these relics for my private collection. -But alas! I am unfortunate! Integrity and poverty go together. It rends -my heart. I fear I had better dispose of my treasure. You will ask, -"Why not to the Museum?" Again, alas! Evil tongues would whisper. I, an -official of the Department, sell to the Department! My own conscience, -too delicate, would shrink. But you are hardened, of an evil mind, a -cynic. You don't understand the scruples.' - -"'Sure,' I says, 'I do. Remorse and me are bosom friends. Come see the -doctor.' - -"'At present,' he says, 'I have an important engagement. Bring him to my -house at three this afternoon. Number 20, Street of the Museum.' - -"I went after the doctor then, and asked him would he have a birthday -present, and what was the market price of royal mummies of the family -of Hannah Atkins. 'Who?' says he, and I tried it again. 'Oh!' he says, -'Huayna Capac!' - -"'The same,' I says. He stated a likely price, which stumped me some, -for Beteta had only asked about a third of that for his mummy, and I -didn't see Beteta's game. I judged he must be an ignorant amateur on -mummies. - -"We went to lunch, and about three o'clock we come round to Beteta's -house. It stood side up to the side of the Museum, with a little paved -court, or patio, between. You had to go into the patio to get into -Beteta's house, and there was a small door in the Museum that opened -on the patio too. Beteta let us in and showed his mummy in a box on a -table, and it was that roped and done up in coloured cloth you could -tell it from any sort of bundle, only there was a copper placard on it, -which appeared to be antique. - -"'It has been in the Museum for some days past,' says Beteta, 'because -of comparisons I desired to make with the other plates.' - -"'Ah!' says the doctor. - -"'I regret that an important engagement now hurries me,' says Beteta. -'My house is yours, but if you go back to Portate to-day, the train -leaves in two hours.' - -"'Oh!' says the doctor. 'To be sure, we must go back.' - -"'So regrettable! But, without doubt,' says Beteta, 'you will return. -My house is yours. For me, but an amateur, to make acquaintance of -a learned archaeologist, how grateful! You find here materials for -packing. My house is yours. Adios, senores. The public servant is not -master of his time. Adios, senores. My house is yours.' - -"Then he took his cash and left us, we feeling sort of surprised. - -"'What's your expert opinion?' says I. - -"'Why,' says the doctor, putting on his glasses again and looking wise, -I think you and your intimate friend belong to the genus gammon, species -humbug; but his mummy is all right.' - -"'If it's a sure Hannah Atkins, that's what I'm asking,' I says. 'I -guess Beteta ain't even an amateur on mummies, and he's skeered of -conversation with you. I guess you're right there.' - -"We packed Hannah Atkins, and toward five o'clock I shouldered the box. -Some populace saw us come from the patio and followed us to the station, -wondering what a caballero, with a cane and a buttonhole bouquet, and a -box four foot long on his shoulder, and a amiable large party in a white -vest behind him, was doing with that there combination of circumstances. -So we caught the train and started for Portate. There was another man I -used to know on the train. He was a Scotch engineer in the employ of The -Transport Company and named Jamison." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX--MR. JAMISON - - -|SADLER paused. I knew Jamison too. - -"What was Jamison coming to Por-tate for?" I asked. "Did he say?" - -"He did," said Sadler. "His conversation was meaty. I'm makin' a -dramatic pause." - -Then he paused some more. - -"I don't think much of that birthday present!" said Susannah, -scornfully. - -"Then I'll expand your imagination, Susannah," said Dr. Ulswater. -"Huayna Capac was the great Inca who died in 1527, the year Pizarro -landed. Three of his sons contended for the throne, Huascar, Atahualpa -and Manco, but how many other children he left is nowhere stated, to my -knowledge. The marital system of the royal house, however, being such as -it was, it is probable they were numerous. The mummies discovered some -four years ago were five in number, each with a copper plate sewn to the -cerements, and inscribed, ostensibly by one Padre Geronimo Valdez. Each -of the inscriptions states that the enclosed person was a daughter -of Huayna Capac, who had been baptised and buried by himself, Padre -Geronimo. The date given on this plate is 1543. We have yonder then, in -all probability, all that remains of a daughter of the Incas." - -"It isn't expanded at all," said Susannah, meaning her imagination. - -"What was her name?" asked Mrs. Ulswater. - -"Curiously," said Dr. Ulswater, "the inscription doesn't state." - -"Her name's Hannah Atkins," said Sadler. - -"Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Ulswater. "What happened next?" - -Dr. Ulswater continued the narrative. "Mr. Jamison was a Scotch person, -with dusty eyebrows and considerate eyes, his speech compact of caution -and a burr. Sadler told him of our acquisition and inquired about the -man Beteta. - -"'Because,' I added, 'if the gentleman is no amateur of mummies, why -should he have a mummy in his possession? And if he hadn't any,--if, in -fact, he stole it from the Museum,--why should he risk so much for the -no great sum the mummy is worth, in fact, for the yet smaller sum which -he received? It seems more probable that in some way it must have been -his.' - -"'I hae doots of it,' said Jamison, drily. - -"'Does he know anything of archaeology?' - -"'I hae doots of it.' - -"'Did he steal it, then?' - -"'I hae doots it was something resembling that, though maybe no -precisely.' - -"'For that absurdly small compensation?' "'I hae doots about the size of -it.' - -"'What for, then?' - -"'I hae doots ye'll find some pink military at Portate that'll maybe -explain.' - -"Sadler here burst into spacious laughter. - -"'We're speeding to our doom, doctor,' he said. 'Ho, ho!' - -"'I hae doots, said Jamison, 'he may have it,' said Jamison. - -"'But,' I said, 'that doesn't explain Beteta.' - -"'I hae doots,' said Jamison, 'he may have an understanding with his -Department.' - -"'Why,' I said, 'you grow in mystery, Mr. Jamison. You cover the land -with darkness. If the sum he received was too small to explain him by -himself, it is surely too small to explain an arrangement implying a -distribution. Ha!' I exclaimed. Let me consider.' - -"'Right you are, doctor,' said Sadler. 'You have the idea now. He wan't -anywhere round when we left.' - -"Certainly, on consideration it seemed to me, that if we were accused -of ourselves extracting her whom Sadler insists on calling Hannah -Atkins--feloniously from the Museum, we would have some difficulty in -proving the culprit to have been Beteta. - -"'Beteta,' said Jamison, slowly, after a pause, 'has some sma' -penetration. Without knowing much about archaeology, he might consider -that a gentleman with a steam yacht is maybe a man of some substance, -that might pay a bit more for immunity than for a mummy. For the -interests of the Museum, he might consider it proper to attract a -strategic contribution from a foreigner. I hae doots the appropriations -for the Department of Public Monuments and Memorials don't support its -offeecials to their satisfaction. He might arrange the circumstances -so that the circumstances would be suffeecient. He might so put it -to persons who might be suffeeciently authoritative to make it -suffeeciently safe. They might send an authoritative despatch to the -Mayor of Portate. I have a bit of information the facts are no so far -from that supposition. No that I'd care to be an authority for the -statement.' - -"'He's an infernal scoundrel!' I exclaimed. - -"'It may be so,' said Jamison, 'but he has some sma' penetration. It's -my recollection too that our friend Sadler was in no verra good odour -with the authorities when he left some years ago. Folk said he ran away -a wee bit surrepteetiously, or maybe he'd deny that.' - -"Sadler again roared with laughter. - -"'I hae doots Beteta has the penetration to remember that too,' said -Jamison. - -"'However,' I said. 'Kirby will see us through. - -"'Aye! Kirby? Is he a friend of yours?' - -"I told him of my old friendship with Kit. - -"'Oo! Is it so? But I hae doots Kirby has troubles of his own. I hae -doots it would be better to keep the two troubles apart.' - -"Here Sadler got up suddenly from his seat, asking of Jamison: - -"'Say, does Steve Dorcas live where he used to?' - -"'Aye,' said Jamison. 'He does.' - -"'Well,' said Sadler, 'it's this way, doctor. Seeing I got you into it, -I guess it's mine to get you out,' and he left the car. I asked who was -Dorcas. - -"'Oo--he's superintendent of The Transport Company,' said Jamison, -'but I doot if Sadler will be able to find him the night. His house is -outside of Portate a bit. We pass it on the railroad.' - -"He paused and looked thoughtfully through the window. The night was -falling. A desolate country indeed, a sandy and rocky desert, is this -coastland, for the most part. I was reflecting that, if Sadler had a -plan, I might as well take what comfort was passing, whatever meat of -conversation on several subjects this shrewd Scotchman might afford. I -started on the subject of South-American archaeology, but Jamison did -not respond. His mind seemed to be elsewhere. At last he said: - -"'Ye'll maybe make a reasonable compromise, if Dorcas is with you, and I -hae no great doots but he will be, for he was friendly with Sadler once. -And leaving that, I'll no deny I'm going down to Portate myself on a -soommons from Dorcas, but it's no aboot you and your mummy. It's to take -charge of The Union Electric's plant. Whereby, as you're a man, I see, -of no sma' penetration yourself, doctor, ye'll be seeing it's likely -Kirby's no expected to be in a poseetion to run the plant to-morrow -night.' "'It seems to follow, Mr. Jamison,' I said, 'that the Mayor -means to arrest him tomorrow.' - -"He nodded. - -"I hae some information he did so this morning, but I opine the Mayor -will be letting him out this night to run the plant, or Portate will be -dark again.' - -"'On account,' I questioned, 'of there being no train that would get you -to Por-tate before ten?' - -"'Your penetration is no sma' matter, doctor,' he said. 'It's working -well.' - -"'It's a wild thing, Mr. Jamison,' I continued, after some thought, 'a -frivolous intelligence, a restless and turbulent member. Its mad quest -after information is always making me trouble. It wants to know now -how you and the Superintendent of The Transport Company happen to be so -willing, not to say eager, to get into collusion with these corrupt and -debt-dodging municipal thieves in Portate, and thereby to spoil Kirby's -most enlivening and pleasant stratagem for collecting a just debt. -It wants to know whether Kirby's being in jail is any personal -gratification to either of you gentlemen.' - -"He broke into a dry but not unkindly laugh. - -"'No personal, doctor. Kirby is a good man. Oo--a wee bit hasty and -cocksure, but he's only a lad. But your penetration is doing well. I'm -thinking it might better go on.' - -"'On your suggestion, it will,' I assented. 'The Transport Company and -The Union Electric are rivals presumably. Presumably, then, the former -has no objection to winning favour with the authorities at the expense -of the latter. Waiving the question of fairness or morality----' - -"'Aye, better waive 'em,' said Jamison, drily. - -"'Waiving them entirely,' I said, 'The Transport Company seems to be in -line with prosperity at the present moment.' - -"Here Sadler came back in the car. - -"'Engineers and conductors are easy on this road,' he said. 'One dollar -apiece. We'll pull up where the road crosses to Dorcas' place, and -disappoint that there pink military.' - -"'Verra good,' said Jamison, nodding kindly. 'I'll go with ye, and I'm -thinking we'll be there in a few moments now.' Presently the train -slowed down and stopped. Sadler shouldered Hannah Atkins, and we got -out. The train went on its way. The glimmer of the not distant city -showed that the electric plant was working. To the left some distance -stood a large house among trees, and to it a road ran from the railway -crossing. It stood near the bank of the river, a yellow, stuccoed house -with a patio. A man who met us at the door exclaimed: - -"'What, Jamison! What, what! Why, why! Sadler! Come in, come in. What's -that box? How d'ye do? Have a cigar! Have a drink. Good Lord!' - -"He was introduced to me as 'Steve Dorcas.'" - - - - -CHAPTER XXX--MR. DORCAS - - -|HE was short, thickset man with a stubby chin whisker, an incessant -energy, and an amazingly choppy manner of speech. - -"'Just so; just so,' he said when he had heard our circumstances and -needs. 'Drive you around myself. Do it myself.' - -"Shortly thereafter he was driving us with two small ferocious horses -through the starlit night, over tumultuous roads, circling the city, in -order that--without passing through it, or meeting its expectant pink -militia or gend'armerie--we might get to some point on the bay where a -boat could be obtained to the _Violetta_. - -"'I see, I see,' he said. 'You'll have to get away. Get away. Before -daybreak. Beteta. Know him well. Damn rascal. Right, Jamison! Right. -Clever old boy, Jamison. Old boy. I was up City Hall. City Hall. Five -o'clock. Saw Mayor. Saw despatch. No names though. Said Museum was -robbed. Description. No names. How should I know? Too early, though. -Beteta ought to have waited. Seven o'clock. Time enough. Damn fool. Make -no great difference. Maybe not. Humph! Good enough case. Got you short. -Eh? Few thousands. Blackmail. Wouldn't do. Eh? Keep the mummy? Lord, -yes. Your game. Whoa! Here's Kirby's house. See if he's here.' - -"Singular conversationalist, Mr. Dorcas. His discourse resembled the -precipitous flow and fall of successive bricks. He pulled up before -that house of the picket fence, visited by Sadler and myself the night -before. But all was dark, not a window lit, no one within. - -"We could see, however, the low buildings, tall stacks, and shining -windows of the electric plant some distance away. Jamison departed for -the plant, saying he would tell Kirby we were there, if Kirby were at -the plant. Dorcas fastened his horses to the picket fence. We sat on the -edge of the porch and held council. - -"'Kirby in bad hole,' said Dorcas. 'Mayor crazy. No lights. Snuffed out -the city. Cool, but risky. These boys, Lord! What nerve they have! Don' -know. Might have worked, maybe. But that riot. Bad. Irish. Jimmie -Hagan. Red hair. Proclamations. Hot. Printed too. Hagan had 'em. -Mayor's tenderest corns stepped on. Insurrection. Sedition. Mob. File -of soldiers. Dead wall. Bang! Dead Irish. Next, Kirby took the riot. -Clubbed the Mayor with it. What! Collusion with rebellion. Humph! Got -his bill. Yes. But the Mayor's got him. Never forgive. Never!' - -"'Irish!' said Sadler. 'Proclamations nothing! Irish never got up an -insurrection.' - -"'Did too,' said Dorcas, diving into his coat. 'Here. Got a copy. See -here!' - -"'He must have run into Chepa,' said Sadler. 'Chepa used to have sand, -and he's Kirby's foreman, now, ain't he? We heard so. Him and Irish -used to be with each other like a man and his pug dog, and each of -'em thought the other was the pug dog. That's a proper international -relation, ain't it? Wrath of God!' says Sadler. 'Look here! Chepa never -did this by his lonesome.' - -"He read aloud the proclamation: - -"'Citizens, rise! The Mayor tyrant has arrested the electric lights! -The Mayor, betrayer of the people, has put in jail Kirby, friend of -the people! The Mayor thief has stolen the people's taxes to buy gilt -furniture! The Mayor pig eats the people's taxes! Therefore is he fat -and shaped like an egg which within is bad. Kirby, friend of the people, -is desolate because he cannot buy more electricity, because the Mayor -sneak will give him no money which the people gave him! Release Kirby -or Down with the Mayor! Shall Portate be darkened forever? Citizens, are -you slaves? Citizens, be not deceived! Citizens, rise!' - -"'Chepa nor Irish didn't do that!' said Sadler. - -"'Peppery, ain't it!' said Dorcas. 'Red hot. Who did it! Don' know. -Kirby, maybe. Don' know! Done for himself now. Sure.' - -"'Mr. Dorcas,' I said, 'why shouldn't Kirby sail with us to-night?' - -"'Maybe he won't. Likely not. Here's Jamison.' - -"Jamison came up deliberately. He said there were some men tending the -furnaces and dynamos who thought either Kirby or Chepa would be back -before midnight. Senor Kirby had said he was going to visit a foreign -vessel in the harbour. They knew no more. - -"Jamison thought he would go back to the plant, and so said farewell. - -"'Why, there!' I said; 'He's on the _Violetta_ already. But undoubtedly -there will arise a point of duty, of responsibility. But you are a -responsible man, Mr. Dorcas. You may be playing a game of your own, but -my impression is it will be, on the whole, a decent game. I'm willing to -be convinced it is, however it may look not over friendly. At any rate, -Kirby knows you, if I do not.' - -"'Knows me!' Dorcas said. 'Knows me! You're right. Point's this: He's -done for himself. _Persona non grata_. Poison to the Mayor. Spoiled the -Mayor's face. I'll see to property. Cable Union Electric. Send another -man. Tell 'em he did well. All considered. Overdid it some, maybe. Bad -hole. No good here now. Cats and dogs. Fines. Thirty thousand up the -spout again. Damages. Anything. Queer country. Got to play it, you know. -Same as a trout. Better clear out.' - -"I said, 'But in that case what are we doing here? He'll want to come -here to pack up, and as we leave before daybreak, he'll have no time to -spare.' - -"Dorcas shook his head. - -"'Better not. Things happening now. City Hall. Pretty likely. Military -here most any time. Despatches to Beteta. Despatches from Beteta. -Gunboat after your boat. Don't know. Point's this: Whose a burglar? I -am. Pack up for him. Why not?' - -"Sadler said, i don't know Kirby, but I'll take the liberty of busting -his window, if that's all. Looks to me as if one had been busted here -already.' - -"He put his hand through the broken window pane and unfastened the -window, and we entered, leaving Dorcas with his horses. - -"Our selections from your apparel and other properties, Kit, I trust -you'll find to have been judicious. - -"Dorcas drove us to the north side of the bay and routed out the men who -rowed us here. They are, I believe, employs of The Transport Company. -Dorcas refused to come with us. - -"'Better not,' he said. 'Point's this: tell the Mayor I haven't seen -him. No collusion. Mayor's friend. You tell Kirby. Write me letter. I'll -wait here. Send it back. Power of attorney. Take charge. Responsible. I -say so. Tell him. Goodbye, gentlemen. Glad to've known you. Good-bye.' - -"Having arrived then," concluded Dr. Ulswater, "it remains to inquire -if we've done well. If not, the boatmen are waiting, but if we have----" -Here Dr. Ulswater leaned forward, and put his hand on my knee. - -"My dear boy, I believe I speak for Mrs. Ulswater too. We've been the -round of the world, missing you." - -As I thought it over, it seemed to me plain that Dorcas was right. -He and Jamison were very decent sort of men. If Dorcas took the -responsibility, the property would be safer with him than with me, -supposing I was in jail. Could I serve The Union Electric better, -under the circumstances, than by running away, as a sort of scapegoat, -carrying off The Union Electric's ill-odour with the Mayor, along with -the thirty thousand? The Company ought to be satisfied. I didn't like -running away. I longed for another crack at the Mayor. I looked at Mrs. -Ulswater, at the doctor, at Susannah. - -I supposed Dorcas was right about the ultimatum too, if the doctor had -reported his jerky hints correctly. He had lived in the country almost -as long as I was old, and was clever and wise. I had felt proud of that -ultimatum. It was new and bold and spectacular. But Dorcas had put his -finger on the flaw in it, the injury to the Mayor's prestige, by which -nothing was gained and much was lost. He might have pardoned being held -up, if it could have been done behind the door, though I didn't see how -it could have been done. He might even have pardoned the ultimatum, -but there were Chepa's proclamation, whose blasting rhetoric was -Susannah's--Susannah's genius and Chepa's idiom--and Mrs. Ulswater's -insurrection in general, and my taking advantage of it--why, Dorcas was -right there, at least. The Mayor had a whip-hand now, for the Government -would back him up now with a case for international argument. The riot -was bad business. It looked as if Mrs. Ulswater were not so infallible -as the doctor thought. I wasn't altogether a success either. The Union -Electric might or might not think me all right, but Dorcas was right, -and The Transport Company had won a point over us by having elderly -wisdom to manage its affairs in Portate, instead of a young one whose -nerve was longer than his head. Anyhow, the milk was spilt. - -"I'll write to Dorcas," I said, getting up. "I seem to have run through -my usefulness." While I was writing in the cabin I could hear the chain -and wheel where the crew was hauling in anchor. The hands of the cabin -clock pointed to one o'clock. - -Had Mrs. Ulswater contracted a habit of _coups-d'tat?_ Certainly her -riot didn't look like workings of infallible good sense. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI--SUSANNAH--END OF THE VOYAGE OF THE VIOLETA - - -|IF Mrs. Ulswater, then, had planned her riot in order to make my -position in Portate untenable--as a sort of explosion of blasting powder -to loosen me from South America, it seemed reckless. It was not like her -to make a mess of a man's business in order to please only a notion of -hers to have him in her floating asylum. She had had, as I remembered -her, a curious awe of business. It was implanted in her, I supposed, by -Mr. Mink of Ohio. One would say offhand, of course, that she had meant, -by these incendiary proclamations, merely to frighten the Mayor into -releasing me, and had not seen beyond that. Of course, that might be the -case. - -But when I asked her just what was the extent of her plan, she seemed -reserved, and wanted to talk of settling somewhere in the States again. -She thought Portate a past issue. She wouldn't say whether or not her -conscience was clear about the riot, but she didn't seem to be troubled. -She was figuring about what kind of place would interest Dr. Ulswater to -live in. - -We were to go first to San Francisco, where the doctor meant to ship -Hannah Atkins to the Eastern museum for which he collected. She asked my -advice about a place to settle in. Doctor Ulswater was fond of unsettled -travelling and might be hard to satisfy. She didn't find my advice -of much use. I judge there were too many rolling waves of moonlit -imagination in it. Something seemed to be lacking, but she wouldn't say -what the flaw was. I suspected she wasn't precisely stating the nature -of her aim and purpose. She began to consult Sadler instead of me, and I -took to running down Hannah Atkins to Dr. Ulswater, so as to induce his -eloquence, calling her obsolete and stolid, or criticising the way she'd -been laid out rather hunched up; and he would pour out South-American -archaeology till everybody took a new interest in life. All you had to -do to start him, like a spring flood in a thirsty land, was to begin -something like this: - -"Of course," you'd say, "I'm not real well acquainted with mummies, and -I'll take your word Hannah's a good specimen of her kind, only I'd call -her laying out pretty economic and bunchy; and of course she's not in -it with an Egyptian mummy for a minute, but we won't quarrel about that, -though on the outside she's pretty much like a bag of meal, and when -opened up, the difference is all in favour of the bag of meal; but -that isn't the point---" and so on. Give him an opening, and he'd shed -knowledge like rain off a roof, till you felt glad to be alive. - -Or else I would go off with Susannah and help her write her poem on me. -That poetry was so candid that it got away from me. It soared off on the -wings of truth, and dealt too much with pure facts. My nose not being -straight, it stated the fact, not brutally, but simply. Any weakness I -had, and there was a rhyme for it, down it went, and if there wasn't a -rhyme, she just planted it in the beginning of the line instead of at -the end. Technical difficulties never balked her of that. There were one -thousand, two hundred and fourteen lines before we got to California. I -wouldn't take a fortune for that poem. It was more than a photograph. It -fitted me like the skin of a snake. But that's not its main value. - - "Kit Kirby was an engineer," - -it began. - - " So handsome and so debonair." - -"Handsome!" I said, feeling interested. Susannah took an observation. - -"Some." - -"Then you oughtn't to say 'so' when you mean 'some.'" - -She scratched out and wrote: - - "Some handsome in respect to him." - -But I was new at literary criticism or I wouldn't have made that -mistake. It went on: - - "But very crooked in his nose, - - And very vain about his clothes!" - -I objected: - -"Not at all, Susannah! Neat and cleanly!" - -She corrected: - - "And neat and cleanly in his clothes," - -which shows the value of literary criticism. - -Then the poem went through with the circumstances of the Portate -Ultimatum, the Hannah Atkins plot, and the sequel of those -complications. - - "And everything was in a muss, - - And so he ran away with us." - -Now, from that point on, it went along something like a diary. It -recorded daily incidents, reflections, comments, the shades and -modifications of Susannah's opinion of me. It was minute, microscopic, -and detailed. It went into unsuspected corners, and hauled things out, -and delivered judgments on them. If the book of the Recording Angel is -put together on that model, it's surely a good model. Perhaps the first -sight of the record and analysis will make a man squirm. But I wouldn't -ask for a better Recording Angel than Susannah, or a judge on the whole -more just. But that is not the main value of the poem to me. It began to -strike me in a new light when I discovered that Susannah had my sins on -her conscience. - -There were entries like these: - - "June fifth. - - "The night is dark as it can be, - - The rain is falling on the sea, - - And every one of us is gay. - - Kit was very good all day. - - - " June tenth. - - " Georgiana Tupper died, - - I cried a lot, and then I cried - - Because Kit did not care a fly, - - But said he did, and told a lie," - -This was a kind of light to stand in, not only searching, but one that -manufactures repentance faster than a man can dispose of the goods. - -Two things began to dawn on me: first, that, although, as the subject -of Susannah's poem it was natural I should be all around in it, on the -other hand, looking at the poem as a diary, I was more ubiquitous than -seemed reasonable: second, that the diary was getting on my nerves. -In fact, passing time was becoming a sort of running commentary on -Susannah. It dawned upon me that Susannah and I had fallen into the -habit of occupying each other's horizons. Then said to myself, "I'm -in for it. It's the way the world is made." This was toward the end of -June. The _Violetta_ was in sight of the California coast, and the blue -mountains of the Coast Range were a fringe along the eastern skyline by -day. - -One night I sat with Sadler, looking across the water toward where -our native land lay in the darkness, he twankling on his banjo and I -thinking of the condition of being a running commentary with an occupied -horizon. By and by he began to mutter and grumble into a sort of tune -whose joints didn't fit. On the whole, as a tune, it was an offence to -music, and didn't agree with my idea of what is morally right. But it -surely suited him. He began to sing to it, and the words didn't suit me -either. - - "When first I kissed Susannah-- - - The facts I state precise-- - - The forty million little stars - - They winked their little eyes, - - They seemed to say, 'You dassn't'-- - - I guessed the same was true,-- - - They seemed to say, 'I reckon things - - Will happen if you do'; - - When first I kissed Susannah. - - - "When first I kissed Susannah, - - I wondered if I dared; - - I see some little stars go out, - - Implying they was scared; - - I see a porpoise lift his head - - And pop his eyes and drool; - - And all the sea lay flat and prayed, - - 'Lord help this poor damn fool!' - - When first I kissed Susannah. - - - "When first I kissed Susannah-- - - The facts I state 'em free-- - - She never done a single thing - - To knock the head off me. - - She melted like a snowflake, - - That's crystal, keen and white, - - That turns a drop of water, - - That glimmers in the night, - - When first I kissed Susannah." - -There was a long silence. - -"Of course," I said at last, "I might be mistaken, for though you're -some stiff maybe with ancientness, still you've got weight and -experience, and accident and foreordination ought to be allowed for." - -"Sure they ought. You're right, sonny. That there's a good balance of -facts." - -"Allowing for all that then, still I'd like to remark that if you kiss -Susannah again, I'll knock the head off you myself." - -Sadler twankled on peacefully. - -"Is them sentiments genuine?" he asked, "Which I wish to inquire if -they're the offspring of wrath." - -"They are!" - -"Well," he said, "it's this way. Scrapping is roses and raptures to -me, but the facts don't allow it. The facts of that poem ain't in my -experience but yours, which is why I'm weeping to the moon." - -"They're not in mine either." - -"They _ain't!_ Well, why ain't they?" Then he swore in a slow, plaintive -manner. - -"They ain't! Well, why ain't they? That's what I want to know." - -He went off leaving me reflecting about all the things a man misses. -Then I thought about the way things are linked together, one thing -happening because of another. - -For if the King of Lua hadn't roused Mrs. Ulswater's wrath so that she -had to carry him off, she wouldn't have carried off Sadler too; and if -Sadler hadn't been a poet, probably Susannah wouldn't have been either; -and if Susannah hadn't begun a poem on me, it wouldn't have turned into -a semipublic diary; and if I hadn't seen her diary, and seen it grow -from day to day, I wouldn't have got into that tumultuous condition. -Susannah saw through me, as if I were a window pane, but the window, -through which I saw into Susannah's secrecy, was her diary. - -At last I got up and went down into the cabin. Susannah was not there, -but the doctor was reading to Mrs. Ulswater. - -"Mrs. Ulswater," I said, "is Susannah too young to be kissed; that is, -by me?" - -"Don't you mean too old?" she asked quietly, without looking up. - -"No, I mean too young." - -Mrs. Ulswater was silent a moment. - -"I suppose she is. But not too young for us to make plans." - -"Did you have a plan, Mrs. Ulswater?" I asked after a while. - -"You needn't pretend you didn't know what it was." - -"I suspected it when it began to succeed." - -Dr. Ulswater took off his glasses and pointed them vaguely at me. - -"As to the date of your suspicions," he said, "you are an authority, but -as to the date of the success of Mrs. Ulswater's plan, you are in error, -in error. Mrs. Ulswater's plans begin to succeed when she begins to make -them. The beginning of the end is coincident with the beginning of the -beginning. She has an arrangement with destiny. She i----" - -"Stuff!" said Mrs. Ulswater. - -"Not at all! Not at all!" he cried. "I'll bet Hannah Atkins to a fresh -infant that Mrs. Ulswater laid the lines of your future a year and -a half ago, and started for a predestined Island of Clementina, -and collected a foreordinate orphan whom she had spotted from the -description of the late Mr. Tupper. 'Susannah,' she said to herself, -'will do for Kit. We'll go to Clementina.' Pundits, prime ministers, and -reigning monarchs she picked up by way--populations rioted as she found -convenient--mere incidental details to a further end. Through helplessly -remonstrant oceans, through a universe undisciplined and disorderly, she -pursued the judicious tenor of her way. Here and there she altered the -trend of history. It was nothing. Missions! Not at all. Her purpose was -to make a match. The feminine mind----" - -"Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Ulswater. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII--ZIONVILLE - - -|IN San Francisco Dr. Ulswater set about despatching Hannah Atkins -eastward, and I got into communication with The Union Electric Company. -Sadler disappeared. He went with Dr. Ulswater to see Hannah Atkins -despatched, and then disappeared on business of his own. - -Dr. Ulswater wired east: "Goods shipped by S. P. as per letter to -follow." Two days later he received a telegram from the East: "What's -the trouble with your shipment?" He wired back: "Don't know of any -trouble," and received this mystic and portentous reply: "Held up at -Zionville." - -Zionville! Where and what was Zionville? Dr. Ulswater and I were to -find out. How shall one answer the question: "What is Zionville?" We may -begin in this way: - -A stranger visiting Zionville to-day, if he is one with eyes to see -understanding, will notice that the distinction of the place, in some -singular and subtle way, seems to come together and concentrate on its -cemetery, a noble enclosure with an imposing arched gateway. He will -wonder how and why. - -If he takes my advice, he will inquire first for Babbitt's Hotel. He -will find there a long veranda with thin green pillars, many cane-backed -chairs, and many occupants of the chairs. Of these occupants let him -inquire for William C. Jones. It may well be that one of the occupants -will be William C. Jones. Let him fall into casual conversation with -William C. Jones. He will find him full of local patriotism, elderly, -cross-eyed, a lawyer by profession, a man of harsh voice, and manner of -speech as indirect as his left eye; of a bleak and barren face, heavy, -morose, shaped like a Bartlett pear, with light eyelashes and no -eyebrows; a man of statesmanlike carriage, with care up on his forehead. -Let the stranger, pointing to the cemetery's tallest monument, at last -inquire: - -"What's that monument for?" Maybe, if he should speak of it as "that -pillar of distress," or some such equivocal term as might suggest a -doubt whether he liked its architecture, it might be a good plan. Then -William C. Jones will fasten on either side of his questioner a glassy -diagonal stare, and speak something to this general effect, inquiring: - ---Whether you are a sarcastic and facetious party, or one that has -misspent his youth and means to die sudden and ignorant; and if so, -whether you are inclined to ribaldry, and don't know a real serious -subject from a can of spoiled beans; or are merely a sort of Hottentot -party, disguised in a different and on the whole inferior kind of -homeliness, with features not well assorted, morals depraved, and -intellect omitted; and if so, whether on that account you ought to be -excused for illiteracy respecting that world-renowned monument, or were -not well brought up, and possibly intend better than you talk.---- - -In that way the subject will be fairly opened. - -Under the guidance of William C. Jones let the stranger go about, -listen, and observe. He will hear that originally Zionville was the -offspring of a gold mine. He will see that at present she lies in the -midst of orchards and vineyards. Superficially, she is a small and -happy city lying between the flat plain of the Sacramento and the lower -foothills of the Sierras. In reality she is a personage. No origins -account for Zionville, and no appearances define her. - -Dr. Ulswater is fond of drawing fine distinctions between what he calls -"the phenomenal and noumenal Zionville," between "the objective and the -subjective Zionville," between Zionville as she appears to the senses -and "Zionville as such." This is all more or less beyond me, but I'd -go so far as to admit that "Zionville as such" is a personage without -parallel in the solar system, without example in the Milky Way. How -shall I describe her? She is romantic, and incurably young. She -is nonchalant, and yet interested. She is open, unashamed, and yet -impenetrable. - -When Dr. Ulswater and I first saw her, she appeared to consist of some -hundreds of ramshackle houses thrown down anywhere, a few handsome -residences on the hillsides, a couple of brick blocks, a high school, a -jail, three churches, Babbitt s Hotel, and an outlying Chinatown. There -were no sidewalks then to speak of, except on Main Street. There were -some gas lamps, but nothing electric, and nothing that looked like a -cemetery. Westward lay the plain, eastward the wooded hills and lonely -canyons. Nothing spoke outwardly of Zionville s aspirations, her hopes -and dreams. And yet she stood there in a crisis of her history. - -It is well established now that there are three great dates in Zionville -history, of which the first marks the discovery of the Eureka Gold -Mine, and the second the Reformation. Opinion agrees that before the -Reformation she was already a personage, but admits that her morals -were seedy; that morals was not a subject to which she gave any great -attention. - -The history of the reform movement is a volume by itself. The subject -of morals once called to her attention, she went at it with her -characteristic ardour and efficiency. Anything labelled "Morality" -she was ready to try. She set her mind on higher things. She became -conscious of her destiny. A new era dawned. She discarded her old name. -The name "Zionville" dates only from the Reformation. Her former name is -expunged from her records. No public-spirited citizen ever mentions it -now. - -Dr. Ulswater and I stepped, then, from the train, and looked about us, -and saw a drowsy, shiftless looking town, loafing, sprawling at the feet -of the hills. We cared nothing for Zionville. We were looking for Hannah -Atkins. We wanted to know what brigand of the Sierras was low-down -enough to hold up a lady of her age, discretion, decent poverty, and -illustrious descent. We asked the station master if he had any news -about him concerning such and such goods, so and so labelled. - -He was a small man with pale eyes. No sooner had Dr. Ulswater spoken -than his pale eyes glowed with purpose. There was a sudden and -mysterious light in them. It was the reflection of the torch of -Zionville. It was our first glimpse of Zionville's pure flame. - -He sprang up. He ran past us without speaking, out through the open -door, and sped up the dusty street. We stood alone in the silent, empty -station. The doctor walked to the door, adjusted his glasses, and gazed -after. I followed. - -"Doctor," I said, "Hannah's got into trouble. Maybe she stopped off for -breakfast and didn't pay her bills." - -He was beyond the reach of jibes, listening, gazing at the phenomena -before him. We both looked. We saw Zionville waking up, shaking her -mane, pealing her eagle eye, girding her loins and unlimbering herself. -First one figure, then another appeared in the hot sunny street; then -groups, throngs, gathered and martialled. The dust rose so thickly as -to hide them, but the distant murmur grew, and now we heard the thump of -drums, the clash of cymbals, the piping of fifes. The brown dust cloud -came rolling down the street toward the station; through it we soon -discerned the approaching procession, men and women and a fringe of -clamouring children. - -"Mad!" said Dr. Ulswater. "Why, it's a palpably insane community! What -do you conjecture they're after?" I said: - -"Maybe it's Hannah's pedigree. Maybe it's us." - -The dusty procession was upon us. We were seized and thrust into the -middle of it. The tumult, the shouting, and the noise of semi-musical -instruments was so great that if anybody attempted to explain or answer -questions, I didn't make it out. I noticed that the confusion was really -superficial. Nobody seemed to be in command, every one seemed to have a -hand in what was going on--whatever it was--and some common understood -purpose seemed to guide it all. It was an organised miscellany. Up the -the street we went through the dust, drums, cymbals, fifes, and flags -before and after. We turned at last, crowding up the alley where a large -hall used to stand behind Gregson's grocery. Whoever in Zionville was -not in that hall was looking in through the windows. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII--WILLIAM C. JONES AND LOUISA - - -|AT the upper end of the hall was a low platform, on the left side of -which sat twelve men on benches. At the right end of the platform stood -that familiar oblong box that contained the last tabernacle of Hannah -Atkins. The covers were off. There were signs about her of considerable -investigation. A table stood in the centre of the platform and behind -it sat a very small man, with a long silky black beard and very delicate -features. - -Gentlest and suavest of men! He was called "Louisa," this magistrate. -For if he had, hanging disconsolately in the rear of his history, the -family name of "Bumper," it was nothing to the point. The sure taste and -discretion of Zionville always refused it. - -At that time he was Justice of the Peace, and Coroner, and some other -things, and in after days Mayor of Zionville. His voice was sweet, -tender, soothing, a sort of a tenor warble; his manners were beautiful, -and language flowed from him like molasses from a spigot. - -In front of the platform stood a man of features reminding one of the -Sahara Desert. This was William C. Jones, the Public Prosecutor. - -Dr. Ulswater was in a condition of wrath. With him a condition of wrath -implied a condition of eloquence. We being hauled up before that soft -and subtle child, Louisa, with Louisa, W. C. Jones, and all Zionville -wanting to know all about Hannah Atkins all at once,--being, in -fact, for the first time face to face with Zionville, that unique -phenomenon,--any kind of behaviour on our part would be likely enough; -but on account of haste, and on account of some punches in the back due -to the ardour of the occasion, Dr. Ulswater had emotions in his head -that kept discharging his hand upwards from his head in a series of -explosions, and he started in to give his opinion of Zionville, and let -off opinions in volleys and artillery playing wonderful. But Louisa -flowed over him like molasses over a hot griddle cake: - -"Later, sir, later, we shall be happy to discuss with you the foibles -of our society, but what we are interested in now is how this party, in -this here truncated coffin, came to be travelling through Zionville -in this here noncommittal manner; also, as to what may be the names, -titles, pretensions, antecedents, residences, of yourself and friend; -also of the noncommittal party aforesaid; also what may be your -connection with that party. These, sir, are the points on which -Zionville desires to be informed. But perhaps this other gentleman can -give us some succinct statement, some short cut to the information this -community is after." - -I gave Louisa our names, and told him the party he referred to was a -foreign lady that went by the name of "Hannah Atkins," at least lately -she been so called though I had reason to believe it was an alias, or a -corruption of her title and pretension. - -"I thank you, sir," said Louisa, sweetly. "We progress, and your -statements reasonably agree with the information we already have. And -now possibly Dr. Ulswater will entertain us with some still eloquent -but more pertinent remarks, some exhilarating but not too gruesome -anecdotes, illustrating the immediate causes of this lady's decease." - -The doctor took a new start. He made some flourishing archaeological -statements about the Incas and the antiseptic qualities of the Andean -climate, and then he sailed off on the high seas of South-American lore -and his own enthusiasm over Hannah Atkins. But he was still somewhat -flustered and confused. There was a growing tumult round about. I judged -Zionville didn't follow him. Louisa said it wouldn't do, and William C. -Jones rose up gloomy and bleak, and his forefinger started arguing up -and down like a walking beam. He wanted to know: - ---Whether them hideous words, unaccounted for by any civilised alphabet, -was the names of Mrs. Atkins' ancestors, or of the last heathen jurymen -that had tried him (Dr. Ulswater) for some previous harrowing crime; -and if so, whether remarks made in the Choctaw language on insurance -statistics, such as his (Dr. Ulswater's) remarks appeared to him (the -speaker) to be, were not likely to impress an intelligent jury as -intended to mislead and deceive; and if so, whether he (Dr. Ulswater) -didn't mean,--before justice was summarily executed upon him by the -aroused public spirit of Zionville,--to brush his hair and procure a -set of whiskers less weedy and revolting; and if so, whether he meant to -depose that this here deceased party came by her death naturally or not; -and if so, whether he hadn't no better account to give of his possession -of the same than incoherent statements, which plainly was meant to evade -inquiry with irrelevant excursions into doubtful tradition---- - -"Doctor," said Louisa, "I grieve to have misled you. I intended to make -plain the desire of the jury for information, not on the subject of this -lady's remote ancestry, but as to how she came by her death, and why -she was travelling around, not as an authenticated corpse, but as -an inorganic freight, addressed to some more or less mythological -institution, some abstract idea on the other side of the continent. Do -I now make myself clear, sir? Do I understand you to depose her death to -have been violent or natural?" - -"How the blazes should I know?" cried the doctor, exasperated. - -"The defendant, gentlemen, deposes that he don't know. The defendant, in -fact, declines to testify on the point." - -"She's a mummy!" shouted the doctor. "A mummy! What's the matter with -this maniac of a town? If you don't know what a mummy is, I'm telling -you. I know all about her that anybody knows," and he went on to tell -what he knew, but William C. Jones bore him down, inquiring with the -voice of calamity: - ---Whether them figures he (Dr. Ulswater) was giving was the dimensions -of the city of Cuzco, or the age of Mrs. Atkins' parents at the time of -her death, or the geography of the Andes, or the story of Mrs. Atkins' -young romance; and if so, whether he (Dr. Ulswater) was acquainted -with her in youth; and if so, whether she was as yellow at that time -or affected since by a fever of that colour; and if so, inasmuch as his -(Dr. Ulswater's) statements seemed to imply that he was no relative but -only an admirer of Mrs. Atkins, whether his (Dr. Ulswater's) manifestly -false and absurd statement that she was upwards of four hundred years -old and her complexion complicated with considerable paint, wasn't an -unchivalrous statement, that throwed doubts on the genuineness of his -(Dr. Ulswater's) boasted admiration; and if so, and there was any museum -in Connecticut unscrupulous enough for such barbarous inhumanity, -and Mrs. Atkins and Dr. Ulswater ever arrived there--in defeat of -justice--whether they was intended to be exhibited in the same show -case; and if so, whether the promiscuous and opprobrious language he -(Dr. Ulswater) was at present using was by him thought calculated to -benefit his case---- - -"Doctor," said Louisa, "Zionville is pleased to know you. Under other -circumstances your evanescent humour would delight us beyond measure. -But it is the opinion of the Court you ought to be informed that this is -a moral town. Yes, sir. Not insanity but morality is what's hit us. It's -the moralest town this side the Divide. We've got that reputation with -the sweat of our virtues. There was a time when anybody found in -possession of a corpse might be asked what he was going to do with it, -or he might not, according to idle curiosity or intelligent interest. -But times are changed. We make a point now of asking where he got it; -which is, of course, a sacrifice of perfect courtesy to exacting morals. -We admit it. But, sir, you have projected this here casket loaded with -moral dynamite--if I may so state it--into this here moral community, -and yet you claim not to know 'What the blazes'--if I quote correctly-- -she died of. The Court deprecates this distrustful attitude. The Court -regards such reserve as suspicious, incriminating. In response to -pertinent and proper questions you indulge some humorous statements -regarding--if I caught the word--"mummies," some jocular reference to -the venerable appearance of the deceased--as the Court supposes. The -Court has already inferred deceased was an Injun, and therefore don't -care about the rest of her ancestry. You admit, sir, you know all about -her, that you are in complete possession of the facts so far as known to -any one. And yet, omitting the one pertinent fact, namely the cause and -circumstances of her death, you deliver an uncalled-for lecture on Injun -customs. The Court deprecates this learned frivolity. The Court -penetrates your foolish subterfuge. The Court proposes to inform you of -the evidence in its possession bearing on this case." - -Here Louisa took a document from his pocket. - -"The following letter," he said, "was received day before yesterday, -addressed 'To The Magistrates of Zionville.' - -"'_Gentlemen_:--- - -"'On the 14th, probably on the afternoon east-bound freight, there will -enter Zionville and endeavour to pass through a suspicious looking box -addressed to some institution in Connecticut that may or may not exist. -The undersigned is not informed. But the undersigned is well informed -that the consignor of said box passes under the name of James Ulswater." -Now, if on examination of that there box, the Magistrates of Zionville -is of the opinion that this yere "James Ulswater" is a party that -oughtn't to be at large, the undersigned ain't going to dispute that -opinion, undersigned being of the opinion the contents of said box is, -or was once, a respectable middle-aged woman, with some Injun blood in -her, and named Hannah Atkins, as to occasions of whose death it ain't -for him to say. Only he don't take no stock in "James Ulswater's" -remarks on the subject. They don't inspire no respect in his bosom. As -to how "James Ulswater" came into possession of Mrs. Atkins' remains, -the undersigned believes James Ulswater has something up his sleeve -that he dassent tell. To what end then is "James Ulswater" shipping Mrs. -Atkins, without sign of mourning or mortuary symbol, but with stealth, -concealment and disrespect, over the innocent track and guileless -freight agencies of the S. P. R. R.? - -"'Yours truly, - -"'A Former Citizen of Zionville who Believes in her Destiny and Honours -her Morals.'" - -"Gentlemen," said Louisa, "do the suspicions of our fellow citizen -appear to you justified?" - -The jurymen nodded one after another, like a row of tenpins. - -"Do the prisoner's remarks inspire confidence in your bosoms?" - -One after another the jurymen shook their heads. - -"Then the Court directs the sheriff to remove the elderly party calling -himself 'Ulswater,' and his presumable accomplice, the younger party -with the particular necktie and advantageous trousers, calling himself -'Kirby,' and that the sheriff hold these parties for further action. The -Court is adjourned." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV--AMBASSADORS FROM ZIONVILLE - - -|IT seemed to me I was getting into the habit of incarceration. I passed -from jail to jail. It was becoming monotonous. - -But this was a creditable jail, built in the fervour of the Reformation, -with a considerable veranda in front facing on Main Street. In the -fervour of the Reformation it had been, as you might say, a centre of -interest in Zionville. So many citizens got enclosed there during that -period for one reason or another connected with their not understanding -the tendency of events, that this jail always had a peculiar social -standing. It was not like the jails of other communities. It bore no -necessary social stigma. If a citizen was deposited there, it made all -the difference, and depended on the amount of repentance his case was -supposed to call for, whether he was put in a front or a rear cell. -Because in a front-windowed cell he could see Main Street, and maybe -talk with friends in the street, or join in the conversation on the -veranda. In this way the Judge and the condemned of the preceding -afternoon might often be arguing in the evening through a barred window -about politics or religion. Hence it always made a man vexed and low in -mind to be put in a rear cell, where he couldn't see Main Street. - -Doctor Ulswater and I were put in a cell over the veranda, and through -the barred window we could see the length of Main Street, which ran from -the railway station, at one end of the town, to nothing in particular, -as yet, at the other end. Main Street now runs from the railway to the -cemetery, but at that time it ran off into generalities. - -Main Street at that moment was full of a crowd which acted as if it all -belonged to one family. I could see Louisa standing on a dry-goods box -and talking confidentially to the family. There was a general session of -Zionville on Main Street. I judged we were the subject of conversation, -along with Hannah Atkins. William C. Jones and two other statesmen were -walking around arm in arm. The whole place was buzzing like a beehive. - -Then I noticed that Dr. Ulswater was not saying anything. He was looking -over my shoulder through the bars silently, and all anger was gone from -his face. - -"Kit," he said, mildly, "this is a town of great interest to -archaeology." - -I thought it over, and said: - -"Seems to me it'd be of more interest to Mrs. Ulswater's orphan asylum. -It's too fresh. It's the most youthful-minded place I ever saw. I don't -see any archaeology in it." - -"Precisely," he said. "The youthfulness of Zionville struck me too, and -that not so much because of her crude appearance as because of her -buoyancy. I said to myself, 'Clearly we are home again. This is no Latin -mob of Portate, no explosion of firecrackers, no furious inefficiency. -This is gunpowder in a gun. Here is the organising instinct, the jocular -humour, together with the deadly arrival. We are in the States.' But yet -I was not satisfied with that, and those considerations are not what's -hoisting me now. Cast your eyes back over the late events. Look from -this window on that people in their market place, their forum, their -agora. Recollect how Zionville got herself together. What unity? What -esprit de corps? You recognise it? Ha! No! It's Greek, sir, Greek! It's -the civic clan, the municipal State. So looked the Athenians, so they -acted in their market place. We have arrived not only in the States, but -in Zionville. Now, what is Zionville? A piece of antiquity! Archaeology -in flesh and blood! Pompeii be hanged. This is better than Pompeii. This -is a reversion, an atavism!" - -I said: "You'd better not deal out suspicious sounding names like those -within hearing of Zionville. She's high-bred and nervous. If you mean -she's a town with a character, I agree. She has more character than a -bucking bronco." - -"Mysterious and extraordinary town," he muttered. "Ha! You're right. -'Character' is the word. Personality! Personality fascinates me. I -haven't the article myself. I'm a nebulous gas. Hence I thirst for, I -cling to, personality. Most mysterious, most interesting town!" - -"I don't deny the interest, doctor," I said, "but it seems to me it's -sort of concentrated around the question whether or not that crowd is -going to take a notion to lynch us. It looks like a crowd that takes -notions. Would an Athenian populace be likely to act that way?" - -"Precisely," he cried with enthusiasm. "Look at Socrates!" - -It seemed to me Zionville had some game going on, but I didn't make out -what the game was. It seemed to me a lynching would be little short of -frivolous. But then the Athenians had acted frivolous about Socrates. -Zionville was surely an unexpected place. But the crowd in Main Street -didn't act like an angry crowd. It acted interested. - -At this moment the door of our cell opened and Louisa and William C. -Jones walked in. They sat down on a bench without speaking, and there -they sat and seemed to be embarrassed, and William C. Jones' left eye -was searching sideways for the cosine of x, and he began to question: - ---Whether coming in a spirit of conciliation or to speak last words of -warning or entreaty; and if so-- - -And there he stopped, as if he couldn't quite get his gait. - -"Maybe you're ambassadors," I said, "ambassadors from Zionville." - -"The very word, sir," said Louisa, looking pleased. "Ambassadors from -Zionville." And William C. Jones began again to indicate his doubts: - ---Whether a certain document received by Magistrates was intended to -further public interests, or private ends, or mixed in motive; and if -so, whether Dr. Ulswater's account of deceased party in question might -be accepted by Magistrates and apologies tendered, according to attitude -he (Dr. Uls-water) might hereafter assume; and if so, whether he -(Dr. Ulswater) would rather the deceased party in question should -be confiscated as incidental to judicial proceedings whose results, -although likely to be fatal to him (Dr. Ulswater) and his accomplice, -Zionville could no more than vainly regret, public interest being of -first importance; and if so, whether Dr. Ulswater would consent -to deliver over Mrs. Atkins peaceably, for a consideration, to the -necessities of Zionville, and thereby win an honourable place in her -(Zionville's) history; and if so, whether he would state his mind on -that point without incommoding the subject with the conquest of Peru, or -the natural history of South America, and thereby would accommodate the -Magistrates; and if so, or whether it would be necessary to return to -the Court house in order to hasten proceedings to the end that he (Dr. -Ulswater) and his accomplice might be hung before the shades of evening -softly descended, in the interests of justice and the destinies of -Zionville; and if so, whether he would accept or decline the said -proposition,-- - -"Doctor," said Louisa, sliding in like syrup. "Allow me to state briefly -a few pertinent facts. Zionville is a moral town. It's the moralest town -you ever saw. But, sir, we see the necessity of getting this atmospheric -morality embodied in substantial institutions. We have already a high -school with an Eastern college graduate at the head. We have three -churches provided with clergymen, not one of whom dares show himself on -the street without a choke collar. And, sir, we have a cemetery; that -is, so far as a fence around it, and an excellent grave, well excavated, -goes toward providing such an institution; which, however, public -opinion is unanimous it don't go far enough. For there was once a time -in Zionville when there'd have been no particular difficulty on this -point, but those days are passed. In those days, when anybody was -dead,--as might happen perhaps by perforation, and airiness in vital -parts,--and if he was worth while, we used to ship him to Sacramento to -get a ceremony ready made; and if he wasn't worth while, we didn't -take much notice where he was planted; and therefore there wasn't any -cemetery that anybody could find if he wanted one. Such were our customs -and traditions in those days. But Zionville reformed. She took up with -sackcloth. She sat down to mourn, and she rose up reformed. 'Morals,' -she says, 'shall be my watchword. Morals,' she says, 'that's me.' -Sir, since then there ain't anybody died in Zionville whatsoever, none -whatever at all. But sometime ago there was a man named Jim Tweedy, who -got indented with a chimney falling on him, to that extent he looked -not only dead but disreputable, and you couldn't have told him from any -other miscellaneous dbris. And one of our esteemed citizens, named Pete -Chapel, he got officious and jubilant, and went off by himself, and -dug a sepulchre on some land that belonged to him out the end of Main -Street. But was Jim Tweedy dead? Doctor, he was not! But he played off -he was for forty-eight hours, and then he came to, and looks around the -corners of himself, and says, 'Blamed if I ain't all triangles!' but he -wouldn't have a thing to do with that location Pete Chapel had fixed -up for him particular. He rejected it with indignation. Indeed, he was -perhaps not justly to be blamed, though he's never had the standing in -the community he had before, on account of our feeling he was a man -that couldn't be relied on when public interest was concerned, besides -looking discreditable on account of indentations in his surface; nor it -couldn't be denied that Pete Chapel's position was uneasy too, seeing it -was allowed as up to him to provide something for the situation. So he -put up Tweedy's grave for a raffle, and it fetched a good price, over -the value of the land about it, on account of public spirit in the -town. After that it changed hands considerable, the price fluctuating -according to rumours of indispositions, or strangers in town looking -warlike. It went up and down till it got to be a sort of thermometer of -Zionville's condition of depression, or confidence in its destiny. -At last it fell into the hands of William C. Jones, here present, who -donated it to Zionville, and Zionville put a fence around the property -and denominated the same a Cemetery. Such and so far is the history of -this institution. But, sir, we feel that our Cemetery has not as yet -attained its proper standing in our community by formally entering upon -its career of public usefulness. Our morality forbids the thought of too -direct action to that end. It has been suggested that time would remedy -this want. True. But meanwhile Zionville sees its progress stayed, -its development halted. Now, sir, Zionville discerns in Mrs. Atkins -an extraordinary fitness for this purpose. William C. Jones and I -have consulted. We discern a rare opportunity, a crisis in Zionville's -history. We have consulted with our fellow citizens, and they have -took to the idea like a nigger to a watermelon. Our determination is -inflexible. A monument has been ordered from Sacramento. The ceremonies -are arranged whereby to plant Mrs. Atkins, whereby to inaugurate our -Cemetery conformable to the spirit of our citizens. The San Francisco -press has been notified to send representatives. All is prepared. Name -your price, sir. It's yours. Name your conditions. They're granted. The -antecedents of Mrs. Atkins are the most essential elements in her -value, and we hope to see them, in your own eloquent language, indelibly -engraven on the monument." - -"Why, bless my soul!" said Dr. Ulswater. "What good would a Peruvian -mummy do you? Why don't you bury a buffalo and call it a bishop? What's -the idea?" - -"Fame," said Louisa. - -"Fame? fame? But look here! Mummies belong in museums!" - -"Very good," said Louisa. "Ain't a cemetery a museum? Alas, sir! a -collection of various mortality?" - -"Dear, dear! You'll be the death of me." - -"Whether it shall be possible," began William C. Jones, "to avoid -compassing your decease through obstinacy and public interests, being -the object of this interview; and if so----" - -"Your honour," said Dr. Ulswater with a grand gesture. Nobody could -beat him for elegance when he was in trim--"Your honour," he said, -interrupting W. C. and addressing Louisa, "I beg the privilege of -donating Hannah Atkins to Zionville, and to the service of her fame. -To the interests of archaeology Zionville is more than a legion of -mummies." - -Louisa ran to the window, thrust his hat through the bars and waved it, -and we heard Zionville break forth in one simultaneous pean. - -But when Dr. Ulswater and I came out of the jail and joined the -rejoicing, when--as the subject and centre of rejoicing--we came down -opposite Babbitt's Hotel, there we saw, on the veranda of it, Sadler -six feet two, and engaged in sinister meditation against a green pillar. -Then I knew he had written the Letter to the Magistrates. - -He came down from the veranda to join the rejoicing, and when I claimed -to see into his insidious villainy, he looked depressed; but Dr. -Ulswater was surprised and delighted. - -"By hookey!" he said,--For since his marriage to Mrs. Ulswater he had -come to swear always by innocuous things, and he was hard put to it -sometimes for satisfaction; hence sometimes his objurgations were -familiar, and sometimes recondite.--"By hookey!" he said, "Sadler, I -knew there was something Zionville reminded me of. It was you!" - -"I belonged to her," said Sadler, sadly, walking along with us--"before -she reformed. She wollered in her nakedness then, and we both found -out that sin was monotonous. Since then we've each took a shy at the -spiritual life and found it was sportier'n the other. But still I -don't know if her Sunday School clothes will fit me. But, doctor," he -concluded, "if it suits you and Mrs. Ulswater to sojourn and abide here, -I'll try on them clothes." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV--THE END - -|IN the history of Zionville the dates of the Discovery of the Eureka -Mine, of the Reformation, and of the Burial of Hannah Atkins, are like -1492 and 1776 in the history of this country. Whether those foreseeing -statesmen, William C. Jones and Louisa, had reasoned the whole thing out -or not, is now the question. For Sadler claimed that the statesmanship -was all his, and that Louisa and W. C. were trying to jump his claim. He -and Louisa and W. C. Jones used to sit on the veranda of Babbitt's, and -argue which of them ought to be pensioned, and have a bronze statue, and -brass band to play for him at meals. Sadler's argument was that he came -down on the heels of his Letter to the Magistrates, with the whole menu -cooked in his own mind. He saw to it himself that Hannah stopped over. -Louisa and W. C. Jones argued that the menu developed in the cooking, -that is, under discussion, to say nothing of the delicate handling which -lay to their credit. Moreover, they argued that Sadler had mostly -in mind the private need that lay in his nature to get even with the -Ulswaters for shanghaiing him off Lua. That was one of W. C. Jones' -strong arguments against him, whereby there fell a shadow of suspicion -on his (Sadler's) purity of motive. He had wanted to draw Dr. Ulswater -to, and get him interested in Zionville, where he, Sadler, had lived -when he was younger, and before he went over to Asia, and got the gray -ashes of Asia on his head. He had a sentiment for Zionville, as have all -who breathe her air. - -"I used to sit," he said once, "in that there monastery in Rangoon, in -Burmah, with a yeller robe on, and I'd contemplate the same idea for -hours and days, same as Ram Nad is doing out there in the dust, which I -don't see why Ram Nad can't do his meditating somewhere else besides up -against that hitching post to employ one able-bodied man on detail to -see nobody's horse don't step on him--Here, Bobby Lee! You call your dog -off the prophet, or I'll come around and spank the fattest side of your -trousers!--Well, by and by, what with turning that idea over and over, -it'd get smooth and round like a billiard ball, and by and by I'd get -into a condition where I'd begin to see things running round the ball, -like the colours on a soap bubble, and them visions got mixed up with -the daylight. But about once in three times when I'd got a vision pinned -down so I could make it give its name, it was nothing but Main Street -from the station to Babbitt's Hotel. That was the peculiar thing in the -cultivation of my soul's garden. I guess their wasn't another garden -like it in Burmah. When I started after Nirvana, about once in three I -fetched up at Babbitt's." - -"Which," said W. C. Jones, "is a proper sentiment, but it don't prove -you was onto Hannah." - -I don't know either just why Ram Nad liked to meditate against the -hitching post in front of Babbitt's. He got into the habit of it when -the Ulswaters, and all theirs, lived at Babbitt's. It was before they -built the big stone house on the hill, from whose porch one could see -thirty miles to where the _Violetta_ lay at anchor in the river. Ram Nad -never got over the habit of the hitching post. He'd sit there placidly -in the dust, with somebody's pony jingling a chain bit over his head, -and somebody's dog investigating the conical basket, whose perils no dog -could ever understand. Zionville was more than used to Ram Nad. He -was one of the assets of the town. He could squat down where he liked, -provided it was conspicuous and handy for pointing out to tourists. -He was part of Zionville's fame--he and his basket and his dingy long -beard, dingy cotton clothes, and brown bony ankles--a sort of public -institution. He ate and slept at Babbitt's, or at the Ulswaters', or -anywhere he chose. As I recollect, in his later years, he wore a Navajo -blanket that Sadler gave him, of a fiery red that burnt a hole in the -atmosphere. I recollect the Chinamen from Chinatown that used to drop -around and consult him at the hitching post, but what about I don't -know. He appeared to be an institution with them too, a sort of high -priest or spiritual adviser. - -So lived Ram Nad in Zionville. So he died in Zionville by a unanimous -agreement with himself. He left off breathing one afternoon, in the -sunlight, by his hitching post, calm and harmonious, in a Navajo -blanket. - -But I was speaking of the burial of Hannah Atkins, and what person, in -truth, ought to have a bronze statue in front of the City Hall, with a -laurel wreath on his head, and one finger pointing toward Hannah's -monument. - -Of course, any man, of any likely town in the West, advertises his town. -It's the subject of his daily conversation and his nightly dreams, for -it's not merely a casual coincidence of people, but an enterprise that -every inhabitant has stock in. So far Zionville wasn't peculiar. But -no other town would have grasped and gathered in the possibilities -of Hannah Atkins. The question is, Whose genius first foresaw those -possibilities? - -It is some years past now. And yet a tourist on the Overland train now -and then still drops off and asks to see where Hannah Atkins was -buried. But Oh! that great day of the Burial! Reporters came up from -San Francisco to attend, and Dr. Ulswater's oration was a monument -in itself. And Oh! the great days that followed! Zionville became -celebrated, suddenly and superbly, renowned. Fame jumped upon her. -It proclaimed her the healthiest town on earth, not to say the most -singular. There was a time--a short time, we admit--when nearly every -newspaper in the land had its item about Zionville. It was enough. Dr. -Uls-water, William C. Jones, Louisa, Sadler, Ram Nad, all, especially -Hannah Atkins, had a period of limelight fame. Europe and America spoke -of Zionville. The world stopped its business a moment and gave her a -cheer. - -The thing was done. Zionville was as well known as Uneeda Biscuit, and -launched on her career of increase. Her boom was started. - -As phrases from the Declaration of '76 have entered into the national -language, so phrases from Dr. Ulswater's great speech are embedded in -Zionville usage. "Centripetal point of envious resort," were words to -be remembered and repeated. "Here we lay," said Dr. Ulswater, "the -cornerstone of our fame," and Zionville roared simultaneously! "He means -Hannah!" - -"Born in purple of an extinct American dynasty," said Dr. Ulswater, -"she, whom we here deposit, is henceforth become the symbol around which -the affections of this democratic community are gathered, the cynosure -of our pride, the nucleus of our respectful regrets." - -The statesmen of Zionville, then, saw and grasped their -opportunity,--Zionville's peculiar gifts, her imaginative reach and -supple unity of action being with them. They demonstrated this fact, -this principle, in the floating of a municipal enterprise, namely, the -automatic action of the newspaper paragraph. - -Now, no one questions the talents, no one grudges the praise, of Sadler, -of William C. Jones, of Louisa. They foresaw an automatic paragraph -in Hannah Atkins. They developed and put that automatic paragraph in -action. But the question is: What seminal mind first bore this seed? -Where lay that creative spark of genius, of forecasting insight and -prophetic statemanship? Who first conceived the idea? - -Susannah and I have long been married. We still occupy each other's -horizon. In the same way Dr. Ulswater is apt to see Mrs. Ulswater on the -horizon. She is perhaps a superstition of his. - -And yet, whenever I hear the Burial debated, and the idea of it traced -through William C. Jones, Louisa, and Sadler, I seem to see, talking -with Sadler in the evening on the deck of the _Violetta_, a small, thin, -quiet woman, knitting, sewing. Sadler himself does not remember what -she said. Probably her words were few. He remembers that it was there -certain things took shape in his mind. He remembers describing Zionville -to her, and how his sentiments got lively while he did so, and that Mrs. -Ulswater was interested, and little by little he saw it all, clear as a -map, before him. Was Mrs. Uls-water's then the seminal mind? If you ask -her, she says "Fiddlesticks!" If you ask Dr. Ulswater, he says, "Not one -imaginable, remote doubt of it!" - -I say nothing. Only I see Mrs. Ulswater on the deck of the _Violetta_, -knitting, sewing. - -Even so she sits to-day, knitting, or sewing, on the porch of the stone -house on the hillside. Below lies the city of Zionville, busy, booming, -with its trolley line and electric lights, which I put in for The Union -Electric. On the further hillside stands the Sanatarium; built and -managed by the Uls-waters. Mrs. Ulswater sits in her rocking chair, -caring nothing for bronze statues, little known of newspaper paragraphs, -knitting the welfare of her fellow men, sewing, embroidering their -destinies, mending their misfortunes. Forward and back goes the restless -thrusting thimble; the fine needle glitters, is gone, and reappears. - -So Athens lay below the Acropolis, where stood the bronze statue of -presiding Pallas, leaning on her spear. It was an idle weapon. The main -business of Pallas was to take in glory. Looked at in one way, it was -a foolish business. In Zionville Mrs. Uls-water turns all that over to -Hannah Atkins, to any one who can stand it. Mrs. Ulswater is a deity -from Ohio, and does not care for the parti-coloured bubble of glory. - - -THE END - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Cruise of The Violetta, by Arthur Colton - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA *** - -***** This file should be named 50272-8.txt or 50272-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/2/7/50272/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Cruise of The Violetta - -Author: Arthur Colton - -Release Date: October 21, 2015 [EBook #50272] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA - </h1> - <h2> - By Arthur Colton - </h2> - <h4> - New York - </h4> - <h4> - Henry Holt And Company - </h4> - <h3> - 1906 - </h3> - <p> - <br /> <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> - <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0001.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> - <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0009.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> - </h5> - <h3> - IN MEMORIAM - </h3> - <h3> - C. W. WELLS - </h3> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h3> - DEDICATED TO - </h3> - <h3> - HARRY L. PANGBORN and - </h3> - <h3> - GEORGIA W. PANGBORN - </h3> - <p> - <br /> <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—DR. ULSWATER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—MRS. MINK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—AND THE TWENTY PATRIOTS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV—THE TROPIC AND THE TEMPERATE - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V—FIRST DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S - NARRATIVE: FIRST ADVENTURE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI—SECOND ADVENTURE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII—THIRD ADVENTURE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII—PROFESSOR SIMPSON AGAIN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S - FIRST MANUSCRIPT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X—SECOND DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S - NARRATIVE CONTINUES: SUSANNAH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI—RAM NAD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII—RAM NAD CONTINUED </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S - SECOND MANUSCRIPT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV—DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE - CONTINUES: THE ISLAND OF LUA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV—SADLER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI—AT THE PALACE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII—MRS. ULSWATER TAKES ACTION - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S - THIRD MANUSCIPT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX—DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE - CONTINUES: THE MYSTERY OF GEORGIANA AND DELORES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX—THE BALLAD OF GEORGIANA AND - DELORES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_FOOT"> FOOTNOTES BY JAMES ULSWATER. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI—SUSANNAH AND RAM NAD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S - LAST MANUSCIPT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII—I RESUME THE NARRATIVE. THE - PORTATE ULTIMATUM </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV—THE ARREST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV—MRS. ULSWATER'S INSURRECTION - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI—THE TRUCE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII—ON BOARD THE VIOLETTA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII—HANNAH ATKINS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX—MR. JAMISON </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX—MR. DORCAS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI—SUSANNAH—END OF THE - VOYAGE OF THE VIOLETA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII—ZIONVILLE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII—WILLIAM C. JONES AND LOUISA - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV—AMBASSADORS FROM ZIONVILLE - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV—THE END </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I—DR. ULSWATER - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N the Fall of the - year when Krakatoa blew its head off in the East Indies, and sent its dust - around the world, I fell sick of a fever in the city of Portate, which is - on the west coast of South America. Portate had the latest brand of - municipal enterprise and the oldest brand of fever. But they call any kind - of sickness a fever there, to save trouble, and bury the alien with as - little trouble as possible. I started for home, and came as far as Nassau, - which is a town in the Bahamas. There, a wasted and dismal shape, I - somehow fell into the hands of one Dr. Ulswater, who tended and medicined - by back into the world of sunlight and other interesting objects. - </p> - <p> - Nassau runs up the side of a bluff and overlooks a blue and dimpled - harbour. Dr. Ulswater at last began to take me with him, to lie on the - rocks and watch him search in the harbour shoals for small cuttlefish. He - used a three-pronged spear to stir them out of their lairs, and a long - knife to put into their vital points with skilful surgery. They waved and - slapped their wild blistered arms around his neck and shoulders, while he - poked placidly into their vitality. So, being entertained and happy, I - recovered from yellow fever. - </p> - <p> - By that time my handsome name, given by parents who recognised my merits, - “Christopher Kirby,” had come down handily in Dr. Ulswater's usage to - “Kit,” and we loved each other as two men can who are to each other a - perpetual entertainment. - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater was a large, bushy man in the prime of a varied life. Born an - American, he had studied in German universities, practised medicine in - Italy, and afterward in Ceylon. One of his hobbies was South-American - archaeology. He owned a silver mine in Nevada, and kept a sort of - residence in New York at this time, and was collecting specimens for a New - England museum. So that he was what you might call a distributed man, for - he had been in most countries of the globe; yet he was not a - “globe-trotter,” but rather a floater,—in a manner resembling - sea-weed, that drifts from place to place, but, wherever it drifts or - clings, is tranquil and accommodating. He seemed to me suitable to the - tropics and their seas,—large, easy, and warm of body; his learning - like the sea, mysterious and bottomless; his mind luxuriously fertile, but - somewhat ungoverned. His idioms were mixed, his conversations opalescent; - his criticism of himself was that he had not personality enough. - </p> - <p> - “No, my dear,” he said, wrapping a dead cuttlefish up neatly in its own - arms, “I am like a cuttlefish whose vital point is loose. You are an - ignorant person, with prepossessions beyond belief, and absurd deferences - for clothing and cleanliness; but you have personality and entertaining - virtues. Therefore I will let you smoke two cigars to-night instead of - one, and to-morrow maybe three, for your sickness is becoming an - hypocrisy.” Then we went over the rocks to our boat and the sulky sleepy - negro boatman, the doctor with his flabby bundled cuttlefish, and I with a - basket full of coral and conch-shells. The boatman rowed us out over a sea - garden with submerged coral grottos; pink and white coral, branching and - the “brain” coral, sea-fans and purple sea-feathers, coral shrubs, coral - in shelving masses; also sponges, and green hanging moss, and yellow, - emerald, and scarlet fish, silver, satin, ringed, fringed, spotted;—all - deep beneath in their liquid, deluding atmosphere,—a cold vision, - outlandish, brilliant, and grotesque, over which we floated and looked - down. - </p> - <p> - “Hypocrisy, pretence, illusion!” went on Dr. Ulswater. “Yet we attach to - these words a meaning of praise or condemnation which begs the question. - The personality is all, the point of view. To observe an alcyonoid polyp - through thirty feet of water, an ineffable vision! or under a microscope - which pronounces the ineffable vision hypocrisy, pretence, illusion!—in - which is there more truth? Is not my hypocrisy an intimate truth of me? - Hanged if I know! There is a new yacht in the harbour. We will go to it.” - </p> - <p> - And we moved across the calm glassy harbour toward the long white steam - yacht. - </p> - <p> - It was a handsome sea-going vessel. Its brasses glistened in the afternoon - sunlight. <i>Violetta</i> was its gilt-lettered name. Sailors were busy - forward, and a striped awning was over the after-deck. As we drew near, a - woman stood up under the awning and came over to the rail; she had some - knitting in her hands. I asked if we might come aboard, and the doctor - grumbled at me in disgust,—something about “frizzle-brained women.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course you can,” she said, decisively. “Wait till they bring the - steps,” and she disappeared. - </p> - <p> - “Ha!” he said, “steps! And a Middle West accent! Very good.” - </p> - <p> - We went aboard, leaving the negro in his boat, and under the striped - awning made the acquaintance of Mrs. Mink and a stout, blond-bearded - sailing-master, Captain Jansen. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II—MRS. MINK - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>RS. MINK was a - pleasant looking woman, though somewhat thin, and with sharp gray eyes. - She wore a plain, neat black dress, such as a self-respecting woman might - wear to church in some small inland city. A large flowered rug covered the - deck, a round mahogany table in the middle of it. There were a hammock and - a number of upholstered chairs, each with a doily on the back of it. A - work-basket stood on the table, brimming with sewing materials. A white - crocheted shawl hung on the back of a chair, a red paper lampshade over - the electric bulb. - </p> - <p> - The scene wakened sleeping associations of mine. Just such a shawl my - maiden aunts wore in Connecticut, just such doilies were on their rocking - chairs, just such flowered carpets were in their parlours. They dressed - like Mrs. Mink too, but, to the best of my recollection, were not so - agreeable to look at. - </p> - <p> - That weird glistening sea garden of coral and purple feathers and - improbable fish was fresh in my mind, with Dr. Ulswater's talk, both - undomestic, paradoxical, and showing coloured objects slumberously afloat - in a transparent and deluding element. The wide blue harbour; the steep - white town buried in tropical foliage; the big spruce yacht, too; the - yellow-bearded Swede Jansen, and the crew in flat caps and jumpers—all - these belonged to the world as I had known it of later years. With the - line of the awning came the abrupt change; there ruled the flowered - carpet, the centre table, the doilies, the provincial feminine touch, the - tradition and influence of a million parlours and “sitting rooms” of the - States. One missed the wall paper, and mantelpiece, the insipid and - carefully framed print, and the black stove; but Mrs. Mink seemed to have - made herself at home, so far as she was able, and the effect was homelike. - </p> - <p> - All this while Mrs. Mink looked critical, and Dr. Ulswater was introducing - himself and me, and presently I became aware that Mrs. Mink was telling - Dr. Ulswater her story. - </p> - <p> - It appeared that she came from the small city of Potterville, Ohio, whose - aspect might be inferred and pictured—a half-dozen brick business - blocks, a railway station, a dozen churches, dusty streets, board - sidewalks, maples for shade trees—mainly young and not too healthy—clapboarded - frame houses with narrow piazzas, a thin, monotonous current of social - talk, a limited and local existence. - </p> - <p> - Until the year before, the fortunes of Mrs. Mink had hardly led her beyond - the borders of the State, nor away from Potterville for more than a few - days. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Mink, a silent, plodding man—as I gathered—a banker, - counted a well-to-do citizen, but not suspected of unusual wealth, had - died the year before, of a natural and normal sickness. There must have - been a secretive element in him, something now forever unexplained. He had - sat at his desk in his bank. Away from the bank he had never alluded to - business. He had not liked any habits to be altered. No one in - Potterville, not even the bank cashier, certainly not Mrs. Mink, suspected - that Potterville harboured a millionaire. But when Mrs. Mink found herself - a widow of extensive and varied wealth, she set herself to consider the - situation. So far the story was partly inferential. Mrs. Mink spoke with - some reserve. - </p> - <p> - When the size of her income was explained to her by her lawyer, who was - also her neighbour, she cried, in some alarm, “What <i>shall</i> I do?” - </p> - <p> - He said: “Get a steam yacht. Go into high society, and found a college. - Spend it on the heathen. Make your name immortal in Potterville.” - </p> - <p> - “But,” said Mrs. Mink, narratively, “I thought those were too many - different things. But when I was little I often wished I could see the - equator, and now I rather wanted to see the heathen, and the idols that - have pictures in Sunday-school quarterlies. The more I thought of parrots - and monkeys and bananas and Foreign Missions, the more I knew what I ought - to do first. Because I knew more about Foreign Missions than about - colleges, and I thought tropical countries would be nicer than high - society.” - </p> - <p> - “Admirable!” cried Dr. Ulswater, suddenly. “What logic! For subtle - inference and accurate reasoning, look at that!” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink looked surprised. - </p> - <p> - “But I felt sure that it would be better to be comfortable while I was - examining the missions, so I went to the lawyer, and he sent me to some - people who made ships. After that everything was plain.” - </p> - <p> - “Plain!” cried Dr. Ulswater. “It's a syllogism.” - </p> - <p> - “The ship-dealer was very kind,” said Mrs. Mink, reflecting. “He got the - <i>Violetta</i> and Captain Jansen. It has been quite pleasant so far. But——” - She hesitated. - </p> - <p> - “But you haven't yet seen what you seek for,” said Dr. Ulswater. “You have - taken but a step into the imperium of the tropics. You have far to go. I - have been on the road these twenty years. Imprimis, I will show you the - model upon which the heathen idol is constructed.” - </p> - <p> - He brought up the cuttlefish from the boat and unbundled it. Mrs. Mink - thought it was somewhat uglier than any pictures of heathen idols. - </p> - <p> - “The faith of the savage is based upon fear in the midst of wonder,” said - Dr. Ulswater. “This is an incarnate terror and obscure nightmare seen - moving through ineffable sea gardens. Behold the seed of religions. You - are wise, madam, in desiring to see and to hear, to know the miracle of - the world. Everywhere two miracles confront each other, the visible world - and the soul of man beholding it, but custom and usage are blinding; that - is to say, the more you get used to a thing, the more you don't see it.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink nodded. - </p> - <p> - “The soul of the heathen,” continued Dr. Ulswater, musing, “and that of - the missionary are both remarkable.” Mrs. Mink looked suspicious; but he - continued, musing: “There is, at this moment, an insurrection in Haiti, a - bad-tempered mountain blowing up in Peru, and ten thousand miles from - there a large brown idol, that I know well, sitting in the woods in - Ceylon, with green jade eyes and silver finger-nails. And they're all - turned over once a day.” - </p> - <p> - Something about Mrs. Mink, self-contained, quiet, and decisive, looking at - him with shrewd, unbewildered eyes, seemed to rouse him to conversation; - or else he had an object in being entertaining. Captain Jansen and two or - three blue-capped sailors were near, and stood at the corner of the cabin - listening, while he talked on, talked immensely, talked gloriously, talked - like the power of Niagara, until the tide ran out and the sun set, and - Mrs. Mink said, “Now you'll stay to tea,” so decisively that we stayed to - tea. - </p> - <p> - In the cabin were green curtains and pink lamp-shade, wall paper and - framed prints, a radiator, biscuits, cake, preserves, a red-haired Irish - servant-girl named Norah, and Mrs. Mink at home. She was thoughtful. - </p> - <p> - “Do you <i>have</i> to collect cuttlefish?” she asked at last. - </p> - <p> - “I? No. I do what I like. Why?” Dr. Ulswater's innocence of manner was - perhaps too elaborate. “My curly-haired young friend must not go back to - his job for some weeks in South America, for he is not yet a grizzly-bear. - He is languid, like a jelly-fish.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I shouldn't dare ask any one away from business. But I have some - spare rooms, and I would be pleased if you and Mr. Kirby would visit me. - It would be a great help, if you aren't too busy.” - </p> - <p> - “We are your grateful guests,” said Dr. Ulswater, elaborately. - </p> - <p> - When we came to go, the sulky negro and his boat had disappeared. Captain - Jansen offered to take us ashore. Dr. Ulswater bundled up his cuttlefish. - Mrs. Mink said, “He's dreadfully untidy.” - </p> - <p> - “Admirable!” cried Dr. Ulswater again. “It's a select word, a creative - description! He's a regular litter. His very vital point is loose.” - </p> - <p> - We slid away in the starlight. - </p> - <p> - “What personality!” muttered Dr. Ulswater. “What point of view! Untidy! - The very word! She buys a steam yacht, furnishes it in the style of - Potterville, Ohio, and starts off to examine Foreign Missions. Why, sure! - That's easy!” - </p> - <p> - Captain Jansen chuckled: “I see men try sheet her more'n once, but they - don't. She have a head.” - </p> - <p> - “Untidy!” muttered Dr. Ulswater. “Untidy!”—as if he foreboded - trouble in that word. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III—AND THE TWENTY PATRIOTS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>E left Nassau the - following morning. On the third day we passed the Inaguas and sighted - Tortuga. They were days rich with the tropical outpourings of Dr. - Ulswater, into whose warm Gulf Stream of conversation Mrs. Mink now and - then dropped cool comments and punctuations that excited his luxuriant - praise. What Mrs. Mink thought of Dr. Ulswater was not so clear. - </p> - <p> - The green cliffs of Haiti overhung a white surf, and the lapping mouths of - half-submerged caves below; above was the tangle of the forest, great - pendant leaves, sweeping and coiling creepers. It was the hot morning of - the fourth day. There was a thin, shining mist about, and Dr. Ulswater - quoted: - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “... soft and purple mist - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Like a vaporous amethyst, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - ... red and golden vines - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Piercing with their trellised lines - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - The rough dark-skirted wilderness. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - “Vaporous amethyst!” he murmured, sentimentally. “Gaseous spirit of jewel! - Ah, Mrs. Mink! Lyric poetry, is it not a religion?” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink shook her head. - </p> - <p> - “You see a distinction. You are right. You would say, in the worship of - beauty the ethical element is too subsidiary. You would point out the lack - of rigidity and purpose.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink did not commit herself. We watched the smoke of a steamer coming - toward us from the east. - </p> - <p> - “I see the deep's untrampled floor!” murmured Dr. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - The steamer, a dilapidated side-wheeler, drew nearer, and a small cannon - was plainly to be seen in the prow, but the only men in sight were a negro - at the wheel and another walking the bridge. As they came within hailing, - the cannon went off suddenly, the ball boomed overhead, and struck, spat! - against the cliff, and on the deck a crowd of negroes sprang up and fell - to dancing, howling, waving their guns. Mrs. Mink said, “For goodness' - sake!” while Dr. Ulswater and I went to join Captain Jansen. - </p> - <p> - “Yas,” he said, “I didn't know. If I know, I got avay.” - </p> - <p> - Three boat-loads of negroes were coming to board us. In the prow of the - first was one tall and thin, with a gold-laced regimental coat, a - tasselled sword, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and the dignity of a commodore. - They drew under the side, and Dr. Ulswater and this Commodore talked - Haitian French. - </p> - <p> - Then they scrambled aboard, marched aft in an orderly manner, squatted on - the deck against the rail at the edge of the flowered carpet. Most of them - grinned sociably and chattered to each other. The crew of the <i>Violetta</i> - remained forward discussing them. Dr. Ulswater, the Commodore, Captain - Jansen, and I sat down under the awning in the upholstered chairs, - together with Mrs. Mink. Dr. Ulswater explained, cheerfully: - </p> - <p> - “He says he's an insurrection. He admits that we're not the enemy, but - says he's got to have the <i>Violetta</i> in order to triumph over the - tyrant of Haiti. When he has triumphed we will be rewarded,—meaning - he'll be in a position to pay damages. He thinks our consciences will - reward us, too. He thinks that's a strong point,—maybe stronger than - the other. He has only that one war-ship, and he needs another in order to - attack the navies of the tyrant. If you ask whether he's innocent or - clever, why, I give it up, but I guess he's superlatively one of them. He - appears to be calm.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you mean he wants me to give him the <i>Violetta?</i>” asked Mrs. - Mink, sharply. - </p> - <p> - “Something resembling that, and it's not so unnatural,”—Dr. Ulswater - waved his hand balmily,—“you know, from his point of view——” - </p> - <p> - “Nonsense! I sha'n't do anything of the kind!” - </p> - <p> - “But—well—I gather his innocence is such that he might get up - and take it.” - </p> - <p> - “I'd like to see him! Who is he?” - </p> - <p> - She was sharp-voiced, alert, and keen. Dr. Ulswater seemed bewildered. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but I gather he's a sort of patriotic pirate,—piratical so far - that it might not do to irritate him.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink softened a degree: “Is he patriotic?” - </p> - <p> - “My experience in this neighbourhood,” said the doctor, “has been that - patriotic leaders, who are down on the tyrant, are generally looking for - his job. But now, as they appear to be some two or three to one of us, and - armed, and, technically speaking, to have the drop on us,—why, - there's a West-Indian proverb to the effect that 'A spider and a fly don't - bargain,' but I would suggest something diplomatic, something perhaps a - little yielding. Something of that kind.” - </p> - <p> - The Commodore all this while sat stiffly upright, with one hand on the - hilt of his tasselled sword and no expression on his face, glaring away - from us across the sea. It seemed to me that his bearing couldn't be - natural to a being with human weaknesses, and that it went beyond the real - requirements of his uniform. I judged he had gotten it off an equestrian - statue. - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater began to talk with him again. Of the military, on the edge of - the flowered carpet, some looked genial, some murderous—most of them - genially murderous. Captain Jansen pulled his beard and looked meekly at - Mrs. Mink, and Mrs. Mink examined the Commodore critically. - </p> - <p> - “He says,” resumed Dr. Ulswater, “that it's a military crisis, and he must - have another war-ship or go under. When he has conquered the ships of the - tyrant, he will reward us. His remarks, like his manner, are a bit - monotonous, but I gather he's nearly, what you might call, on his last - legs. He rather intends to put us all ashore.” - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks!” - </p> - <p> - “A—certainly! You think———” - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks!” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater subsided. - </p> - <p> - “Ask them if they don't want some coffee. Ask how many are left in the - other ship. They can have some too.” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater reported that they did; that there were five on the war-ship; - that the Commodore was gratified to find madam accepted the necessity - amiably. - </p> - <p> - The crew and all of us hurried under Mrs. Mink's orders. She collected - cups and glasses. She called for three kettles of boiling water to the - cabin, and closed the door. There were six of us, including Captain Jansen - and the Irish girl, Norah. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dr. Ulswater, you must help. Listen! You must put them to sleep.” - </p> - <h3> - “A—— - </h3> - <p> - “<i>Listen!</i> These two kettles will hold about thirty cups. Don't give - them too much. See that they all drink it at the same time. Send a pot to - the other ship. When they're all asleep, put them ashore. Now don't tell - me you can't, or you haven't anything to do it with, because you <i>must!</i> - I won't stand it! The idea of giving up the <i>Violetta</i> to be shot at! - How do I know what would happen to it? This pot we'll keep for ourselves, - and pour into the blue cups. <i>Hush!</i> Don't talk to me! Ask them to - drink a health or something to something or other, so they'll go to sleep - together. Give up the <i>Violetta!</i> That silly, conceited thing sitting - up there like a barber's pole and asking me that!” - </p> - <p> - “You want some knock-out drops!” gasped Dr. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - “<i>Hush!</i> Laudanum, laughing-gas! You know. Hurry!” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater gazed at her with speechless admiration, took the two - kettles, and disappeared in the passageway toward his cabin. - </p> - <p> - “Captain Jansen, you'll take this gray pot to the other ship, and only one - man with you, so they won't suspect; as soon as they're asleep you better - tie them up and come back. Put the trays on the table, Mr. Kirby, and the - cups and things on the trays. Keep the blue cups together. Do you know if - they like sugar?” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater returned. - </p> - <p> - “Now take the gray pot, Captain Jansen. We won't serve here till you get - there. Norah, pour them fuller. Dr. Ulswater, you must go out and explain. - Tell them it will be ready in a few moments.” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater opened the door and went out, muttering, “Wonderful!” - </p> - <p> - The Commodore sat as before, holding his sword-hilt. The military sat - between the rail and the edge of the carpet. Dr. Ulswater made a speech, - which appeared to please them. Captain Jansen and one of the crew rowed - away in the boat, the captain nursing the gray pot and the tea tray on his - knee. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink filled cups, glasses, and tins. - </p> - <p> - “I hope it will make that barber's pole sick. There! Captain Jansen has - gone up, Dr. Ulswater! Tell them about taking it all together. Tell them - to wait till we're ready. Mr. Kirby, you're spilling. Take care of the - blue cups, and let the men pass the other trays. You two go to the right, - you two to the left, you to the other end. Now we're ready.” - </p> - <p> - Norah was pallid. The twenty patriots took their cups in hand and waited - with wide, grinning mouths. Dr. Ulswater lifted his coffee-cup. - </p> - <p> - “À la Patrie!” he cried. “La Révolution! Ça ira! Let her go!” - </p> - <p> - “They haven't all emptied their cups, Dr. Ulswater!” - </p> - <p> - “Encore!” thundered the doctor. “La Révolution! Videz toutes! Bottoms up.” - </p> - <p> - “Goodness!” cried Mrs. Mink. “How they look!” and ran into the cabin, - followed by Norah, shrieking. - </p> - <p> - Under the spell of Dr. Ulswater's powerful drops the twenty negroes - stared, grunted, fell back, twitching, kicking, astonished, breathing in - snorts. Glass and china crashed on the deck. One of them staggered up with - a yell and dropped again. One rolled half across the flowered carpet. The - Commodore struggled for an instant with his tasselled sword, and subsided, - muttering. The long rows of limp and ragged men, of black faces and open - mouths, were ghastly and still. A gun was discharged on the war-ship. - </p> - <p> - “Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink from the cabin. - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater turned about, beaming at me. “A remarkable opiate, that, Kit! - I always said so,” and pulled out his notebook, and made notes, aloud: “On - two of the subjects evidently painful in action—ten to twenty - seconds—per man three grains—muscular contractions, followed - by total relaxation and coma—in case observed dissolved in solution - of coffee—Remarkable!” - </p> - <p> - “Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink again. - </p> - <p> - Captain Jansen, with his man, came back and reported that his cases had - been disorderly. One of them had discharged his gun and fallen down the - gangway. - </p> - <p> - We carried them, one by one, to the boats and tugged back and forth across - a hot and heaving stretch of water, till they were all landed. Some of - them were stirring and made a noise. - </p> - <p> - When the last boat-load was gone, Dr. Ulswater and I came back under the - awning. Norah was washing dishes in the cabin, Mrs. Mink sweeping the deck - with a broom. The guns lay along the scuppers. She stopped, and lifted a - troubled face to Dr. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - “Will it do them any harm?” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater seemed subdued: “It will make them sick at the stomach. A—a - moral lesson.” - </p> - <p> - “I should think as much!” she said, sweeping vigorously. “That impudent - barber! Did he want to be President?” - </p> - <p> - “I understood he had ambitions.” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated again: “Do you think the revolution ought to succeed, if - their government is very bad? Or would it be better to stop it?” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater gasped again, but recovered himself, and brought his mind - back to gravity and consideration: “My observation has been that, though - tropical governments are sometimes objectionable, these frequent violences - seldom improve them, and create distress. I think it is generally more - benevolent to back the existing state of things.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh! Then I think Captain Jansen had better tie something to the other - ship, so that we can pull it after us and give it to the other people. - Anyway,” she ended, sharply, “I'm sure that conceited thing would make a - bad President.” - </p> - <p> - It was high noon when we steered away for Cape Haitien, towing the - war-ship. On shore two or three revolutionists were climbing a gully in - the cliffs. Others were sousing their heads in the surf. More of them - seemed to be still sick or drowsy. Mrs. Mink went to take a nap. Dr. - Ulswater and I leaned against the rail. Captain Jansen edged toward us. - </p> - <p> - “My, my!” he said. He rubbed his beard a moment, shook his head - thoughtfully, and went forward. - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater pressed his handkerchief to his wet forehead. The heat was - great. - </p> - <p> - “Kit,” he said, solemnly, “this is a discovery. Personality to burn. - Captured by desperate insurrectionists, she demands knock-out drops. She - puts them to sleep with a coffee-pot, and bundles them ashore. And why - not? She balances the issue of a people, tows off a war-ship, and - squelches revolution. Why not? And yet, what a phenomenon of intrepid - reason! What a woman!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV—THE TROPIC AND THE TEMPERATE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN a chicken - drinks,” said Dr. Ulswater, “he lifts his head and thanks God, but when a - man drinks he doesn't say anything. That is a West-Indian proverb.” - </p> - <p> - I said: “It's a good proverb.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” he went on, “I should say it was, with the chicken, possibly, so - to speak, a somewhat mechanical ritual.” - </p> - <p> - We were nearing the end of our cruise. I never wanted less to go back to - Portate, but my health was too boisterously good to be denied. It was - toward the end of November. In the land of steadfast people, the frost - would be on the grass, the wind in the yellow corn-shocks, the good folk - gathering to their annual feast of gratitude, far from these lazy seas. - Old women with white hair and knitting, old men walking with canes, - pink-cheeked girls and big-handed men, children storming the banisters—they - would all be there. - </p> - <p> - “What will you do on Thanksgiving day?” I asked, thinking of the cool - cornfields and familiar faces, of farm-yards and houses where chickens - used to drink in prayerful attitudes, where men also thanked God when they - drank, or ate. - </p> - <p> - “I have left it to Mrs. Mink. She is considering it.” - </p> - <p> - “How?” - </p> - <p> - “She is considering me. It amounts to the same thing. Her decision, I - should say, would determine my attitude on the question of gratitude.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean?” - </p> - <p> - “I have requested her to consider me matrimonially,” he said. “I fear she - is considering me in the light of Foreign Missions. - </p> - <p> - “I have presented to Mrs. Mink,” he continued, “as bearing on the point, - one of the clearest analogical arguments you ever saw. It is as follows: - The business of the tropic and temperate zones is to entertain and - supplement each other. They trade experiences—as they trade crude - rubber for sewing machines—to the profit of both parties. Put them - together and there arises in the mind of each a sense of romantic - surprise. Providence has supplied the need of man for permanent - astonishment by a trifling gradation of heat, so that when either shall - feel the need for something miraculous and incongruous, it has only to - find the other. I have pointed out to Mrs. Mink that her sailing in the - tropics was only falling in with this arrangement of Providence, and she - was pleased to hear it. Going about on loose seas in lazy climates - sometimes had seemed to her a lax and disorderly kind of conduct, and - having it attached that way to Providence made her feel better. I said to - Mrs. Mink: 'It's a doctrine of the present age that the tropics are best - administered and managed, for the good of all, by the temperate zone. - Civilisation is now tending to that end. Now, you, Mrs. Mink, are a - temperate zone. I am a tropical one. You have administrative ability. I am - a heterogeneous person, untidy, overflowing, and hankering to be - administered. You are the one, I am the other. Hence our mutual functions, - destinies, relations to each other, have been arranged and foreordained by - Providence. <i>Quod erat demonstrandum</i>.' That was my argument to Mrs. - Mink.” - </p> - <p> - I said: “It's a good argument. How does she like it?” - </p> - <p> - “Mrs. Mink,” he said, “is reflective but unconvinced. The extent to which - she is unconvinced is alarming. I can't deny it.” - </p> - <p> - I left them the day after Thanksgiving, at San Juan in Porto Rico, and - went back to Portate. Singular town, Portate. Singular man, Dr. Ulswater. - Singular planet around which the <i>Violetta</i> was setting out with its - critical, exploring prow. - </p> - <p> - It was some two months after, when I received Dr. Ulswater's first letter. - Altogether he sent me four letters. Letters! rather manuscripts, - documents, written in his own mellow and tumultuous style. They made that - wandering hearth and home of the <i>Violetta</i> a vivid enough picture to - my mind. I followed its course from sea to sea, from island to island, - wishing myself aboard her. Here follow the documents. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V—FIRST DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE: FIRST ADVENTURE - </h2> - <p> - Trinidad—<i>January.</i> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HAT a world! What - a woman! - </p> - <p> - From the way in which Mrs. Mink collected you and me, it was clear that - she had a knack, a genius, nay, even let us say, a tendency toward - collecting people. In point of fact, no sooner were you gone than she - collected a Professor of Logic. - </p> - <p> - His name was Simpson, Professor Simpson. It was at San Juan. Why did she - collect him? Now you speak of it, I reckon it was for a sort of a - breakwater to me. Gracious heavens! It wasn't for want of logic. Never! - But it is just possible that she found me, at the time,—I suspected - it—that she found me rather—shall I say?—overflowing, - rather a deluge. - </p> - <p> - Professor Simpson was a man whose presence I should ordinarily have - welcomed for the educational value of his company, but I didn't welcome - him. He was small in person, dry of face, categorical in manner, testy in - temper, Presbyterian in religion, pedantic in language, undoubtedly - learned. But did he understand his function to be merely a breakwater to - me? He did not. Let that pass for the present. Mrs. Mink collected him at - San Juan, and we steamed away to Martinique. Here, one day, on or about - the tenth of December, we lay in the roadstead of St. Pierre. - </p> - <p> - We were intending to go on that day, but about two-thirds of the <i>Violetta's</i> - crew were in St. Pierre on shore leave. Captain Jansen came aboard some - time after noon, and finding the men had not returned, became excited, - took all the boats, and the remainder of the crew, even down to the cook, - to help him collect delinquent mariners the faster, and went ashore again. - We four were left on the <i>Violetta</i>: Mrs. Mink, Norah, Professor - Simpson, and I. - </p> - <p> - The weather was calm to the point of deadness. Mont Pelée, that - smouldering volcano, that suppressed Titan, was asleep. Not a cloud in the - sky, not a ripple in the bay. Jansen appeared to be having trouble, for an - hour passed, and the missing crew had not returned. - </p> - <p> - Between you and me, as man and man, the delinquent mariners were in the - lockup, but Mrs. Mink does not know that, as yet. You can't rivet a nail - in a boiled potato, nor temperance in the tempestuous seaman, but Mrs. - Mink doesn't know that, as yet. - </p> - <p> - We were just commenting upon a dark, small, condensed looking cloud which - had appeared above the shoulder of Mont Pelée, questioning whether it was - an exhalation of the volcano, Pelée in eruption. Was Mont Pelée about to - overwhelm St. Pierre, a Vesuvius to Pompeii? Was I, like the elder Pliny, - to perish, a suffocated naturalist, a philosopher in cinder? - </p> - <p> - But it grew with enormous rapidity. It seemed to have an uncommon knack of - taking in nourishment, a terrifying appetite. I saw a house on the - mountain side rise up and vanish, swallowed at a gulp. Professor Simpson - got out his note-book and took notes. He described the cloud in his - notebook as “bulbous, or bulging in form, in colour a bluish black, and - unfolding centrifugally toward the edges.” - </p> - <p> - “In my opinion,” he said, “we are ourselves in some personal danger. I - believe this is what is commonly called a tornado. Do you differ from me, - Dr. Uls-water?” - </p> - <p> - I said: “Not there, professor, though it's late in the year for - West-Indian hurricanes. The most pointed opinion I've got is that this - deck is going to be a wet place in a minute.” - </p> - <p> - We'd hardly got to the cabin before the roar was audible, and grew till we - could not hear ourselves. One minute more and the <i>Violetta</i> gave a - jerk that threw us on the floor, Norah on Professor Simpson and Mrs. Mink - on Norah. Between them they obscured him, on the whole, very well. I got - up and looked through the port-hole, and saw only spray and splashing - water. The ship was engaged in a sort of circular high-kicking dance, - something between a waltz and a cancan. The professor remained obscure. - Neither Mrs. Mink nor Norah saw their way clearly to getting off him, and - for myself,—seeing that he kicked but vaguely, harmlessly,—I - thought Mrs. Mink and Norah might as well suit themselves about it. - </p> - <p> - At the end of four minutes, perhaps five or ten, the tumult had subsided - to a strong wind and heavy sea. I went on deck, and discovered that the <i>Violetta</i> - had been torn loose from her anchor, and was drifting rapidly. The mist, - however, was too thick to see far in any direction. By the point from - which the tornado had come, I judged that we had been driven out of the - roadstead and were moving perhaps west, or northwest, on the open sea. A - broken spar hung from the short rigging and beat against the mast, and the - deck was awash with water. I went back to the cabin, and mentioned my - inferences. Mrs. Mink jumped up and said: - </p> - <p> - “Nonsense! It's impossible.” - </p> - <p> - “But, my dear Mrs. Mink,” said the professor, rising, “surely a situation - that is <i>in esse</i>, in actual existence, cannot be described as - 'impossible.' It is, as you mean to imply, however, most distressing.” - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks! What shall we do?” - </p> - <p> - The professor reflected. On reflection, he said he thought it needed - reflection. I thought we might as well remain where we were. He objected - that, being in motion with the ship, it was not in our power to remain - where we were, but, as regards our relations to the ship, I was perhaps - right. - </p> - <p> - What a man! - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink said we'd better have supper. - </p> - <p> - The mist was turning to rain, the violence of the waves gradually - subsiding, and the wind growing more moderate. Norah and I went to the - galley. She cooked and I carried. After supper it was dark. A pitch-black - and rainy night came down on the troubled sea. The professor and I agreed - to watch alternately. He went to bed and I lay down on the cabin sofa. I - listened to the creak and thump of the loose spar, the murmur of the rain, - the splash of waves against the <i>Violetta</i>'s sides. I reflected that - our situation was perhaps more unusual than perilous; that we were likely - to be seen by somebody if the weather cleared; that after all the sea is - in reality a less eventful element than the land; that a philosophic mind - is better than a feather bed; that with reasonable good luck and a - philosophic mind I might have the credit of a nightlong watch over Mrs. - Mink's slumbers, along with the benefit of a night's rest. So reflecting, - I went to sleep. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI—SECOND ADVENTURE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN I awoke the - sun was shining in at the port-holes, and the ship appeared to be quiet, - but slanting. It was the slant that had rolled me off the sofa and - awakened me. Hence it must have just happened. I went up the companionway, - and saw—the boundless blue expanse of dimpled sea? Not at all! - Nothing of the kind! On the contrary, a towering green wall of forest - trees almost overhung the ship. - </p> - <p> - Talk not to me of the ruthless chain of causes whereby all things are - bound, of nature's dismal obedience to law! As a scientist, I admit it - with reservation—as a man, with tears. But what I really like about - things is their fresh and genial inconsequence. Among all worlds, give me - one compact of improbability. Among all women, give me one of invincible - good sense. - </p> - <p> - The <i>Violetta</i> lay something over fifty feet from a high wooded bank. - The tide was out, but the shelve of the bottom must be steep, for her list - to landward was not very great. We were on the eastern side of a - semicircular bay, which opened toward the south. It was still early - morning. No wind stirred, and the ripples flowed gently among the stones - beneath the high banks. Bright-coloured birds flitted between the tall - stems of the palm trees. A place so calm, so halcyon, so appropriate to - the purposes of my suit! In fact,—Bless my soul!—nothing could - be better. - </p> - <p> - Professor Simpson and Mrs. Mink appeared on deck. - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” she said; “Where's this, doctor?” - </p> - <p> - She looked as if she thought I had omnipotently arranged the climax. I - passed the question on to the professor. - </p> - <p> - “Tentatively,” he said, “I should conjecture it was an outlying island - somewhat to the north or east of Martinique.” - </p> - <p> - “But does any one live on it?” - </p> - <p> - “That Dr. Ulswater and myself will take upon us to discover.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I think it's a nice island, anyway. But there aren't any boats. How - are we going to get on it?” - </p> - <p> - “Precisely!” said the professor. “A problem! I would suggest, perhaps, a - bridge of—of palm trees, felled—” he kindled with light - inflammable ideas—“felled in such a manner as to fall forward upon - the ship, thus, being fastened, to form a secure connection with the - shore.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't see how you can chop them from here,” said Mrs. Mink. - </p> - <p> - “True. That is a difficulty.” - </p> - <p> - There was a pause. A green and scarlet parrot was swearing at us from - where he swung on a vine above the bank. I leaned on the rail and listened - to the parrot and considered his point of view. - </p> - <p> - “Professor,” I said at last; “this is a world of compensations. There's - compensation in your not understanding the dialect of that parrot. His - clothes are handsome, but his language is bad. You are religious and - ascetic, and he's a worldling. I'm a worldling, too, but I can swim, and I - see compensations.” - </p> - <p> - “Let's have breakfast,” said Mrs. Mink. - </p> - <p> - After breakfast I swam ashore with an axe, climbed the bank, selected four - tall slender palms that leaned in the direction of the <i>Violetta</i>'s - after-deck, and hacked them down. Two of them fell on the <i>Violetta</i> - and damaged her rail, but stuck where they fell. The professor roped the - ends to a capstan, and crossed that sagging bridge, respectably calm, - dragging after him the long end of the rope, which we fastened to a tree. - The <i>Violetta</i> was moored. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink came, too, nervous but firm. - </p> - <p> - What a woman! Practical, foreseeing, sagacious, she will walk the - tight-rope of any catastrophe. In fact, she brought a hammock and a - cushion with her. Norah's method of crossing somewhat resembled shinning a - pole. ON recollection, I should say that she yelled. - </p> - <p> - When Professor Simpson and I set out to explore the island, Norah was - throwing stones at the green and red parrot, and Mrs. Mink lay in the - hammock, not understanding that parrot's dialect, which I didn't - understand altogether myself, but it appeared to me he was blistering the - foliage with it. - </p> - <p> - The island was some three to five miles around by the coast, and no other - land was in sight from it, barring a slight bump on the southeastern - horizon which might be another small island, or might be Mont Pelée. It - appeared we had been blown some distance during the night. There were no - inhabitants at the time, or we found none, though there were two groups of - sorry huts not far from the beach, and frequent paths through the woods, - showing occasional occupancy. - </p> - <p> - We came back by the northern shore of the bay, and saw that the <i>Violetta</i> - was safe. We stood some moments in silence. The wind had risen again and - now blew hard from the west, so that the <i>Violetta</i> was protected on - a lee shore, though where we stood the waves rolled in tumultuously. - Professor Simpson broke the silence. He suddenly planted himself before - me, his hands on his hips, and frowned. - </p> - <p> - Now, a frown that is directed upward has the law of gravitation against - it. Professor Simpson's shortness incommoded him in that respect. - </p> - <p> - “It is not my habit, Dr. Ulswater,” he began, “to brook impertinent - opposition or light-minded interference. In, therefore, announcing my - intention to invite Mrs. Mink to the alliance of marriage, I consider that - no more need be said. I wish to be relieved of this undignified rivalry, - and to avail myself of this situation to fulfil my purpose in peace. I - demand that your too noticeable attentions shall cease. Your attitude - toward Mrs. Mink is offensive to me. I repeat, sir, they must cease.” - </p> - <p> - Extraordinary professor! Never was another like him. He was a species. - </p> - <p> - “But,” I said, feebly; “look here. I've already been at Mrs. Mink on that - subject myself. I was thinking it was a good time to work up to it again.” - </p> - <p> - “I object to your giving Mrs. Mink that annoyance. Her preference for me - is perfectly plain. You are without personal attractions.” - </p> - <p> - “What!” - </p> - <p> - “You are too fat.” - </p> - <p> - “But, professor! On the other hand, ought not the fact of your being a - contemptible little dried-up molecule, with the temper of a mosquito and - the humour of a codfish ball, oughtn't that—now really, oughtn't - that fact to be given some weight in the discussion? I appeal to you, - professor?” - </p> - <p> - “Sir!” - </p> - <p> - He clenched his fists. It was a critical and perilous moment. Did he or - did he not intend an attack on my diaphragm? Should I or should I not be - presently seated on top of him like a bolster on a crab? - </p> - <p> - There is a Haitian proverb which says, “It's when the wind blows that you - see the skin of a hen.” - </p> - <p> - Professor Simpson drew a long breath, and suddenly laid himself flat on - the ground, extended his arms and legs and closed his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “I was somewhat heated,” he murmured. “To allay any mental strain, such as - vexation or anger, extend the body, relax the muscles, and endeavour to - abstract the mind from surroundings. The effect is invariable. Let me - recommend it to you. There!” he said, after a moment, getting to his feet. - “I am quite calm. And now, clearly, Dr. Ulswater, clearly, we must submit - it to Mrs. Mink. I suggest, then, that we ask her for a half-hour's - interview each. Subsequently, she will announce her decision, and thus we - will conclude our dispute.” - </p> - <p> - I agreed. We went amicably along the shore of the bay toward the <i>Violetta</i>. - </p> - <p> - Norah was in the hammock, but Mrs. Mink had gone aboard again, and stood - by the rail looking toward us. The yacht lay on a lee shore, and there the - water was fairly calm; but the force of the wind, in spite of the - protection of the trees, was such now as to put some strain on the rope - which stretched taut to the bank. - </p> - <p> - “In half an hour, then,” said Professor Simpson, “you will be at liberty - to interrupt me.” - </p> - <p> - He was over the bridge while I was figuring on the discrepancy,—the - something not quite predestined,—in his having the first shot,—that - is to say, the first opportunity,—of presenting his case to Mrs. - Mink. I was going to propose we should flip a coin for it. He was a - wonder, a wonder! I called out to Mrs. Mink, asking for an interview in - half an hour. She looked surprised. I went back among the trees, and - wished I were a Presbyterian, and watched, during that long half-hour, the - minutes slowly passing on the cold unfeeling face of my watch. I allowed - the full time and went back. - </p> - <p> - Professor Simpson was still arguing. I concluded, comfortably, that his - argument had not, as yet, convinced Mrs. Mink. They stood by the rail, - near the straining rope that fastened the yacht to the bank. - </p> - <p> - “Professor,” I called, “your time's up. I'm coming aboard.” - </p> - <p> - He raised his hands. He was excited. He cried: - </p> - <p> - “I have not concluded! Mrs. Mink! A few moments more! No, no! I refuse to - be interrupted.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink said nothing. Her expression of face was the expression of an - interested spectator. It seemed to say: “Which of you is going to do - something?” I went toward the bridge. He wrung his hands. His excitement - became intense. - </p> - <p> - “It is critical, sir, critical! Your conduct is inconsiderate, offensive! - I insist!” - </p> - <p> - Suddenly he disappeared below the rail. - </p> - <p> - He rose again. An axe was aloft in both his hands. He rushed at the rope. - He struck! The miserable little pirate! He chopped the rope, the - infinitesimal assassin! - </p> - <p> - The yacht keeled over, under pressure of the gale, and Mrs. Mink and - Professor Simpson disappeared. Probably they slid to the other side. The - bridge was dragged after the yacht. I was nearly on it, and all but - pitched from the bank into the water. Norah sat up and yelled. The green - parrot climbed down and swore. The <i>Violetta</i> regained her level and - drifted rapidly away. - </p> - <p> - I picked up the axe that had been used to fell the palm trees, and ran - along the shore. It was an action not suited to my physique. I had to stop - and take breath. - </p> - <p> - “However,” I reflected, “he's done for himself. Mrs. Mink won't stand for - it. Or—or, will she?” - </p> - <p> - At the same time I did not like a rival so fertile in expedients, nor the - fact that he and Mrs. Mink were both Presbyterians. - </p> - <p> - The yacht was not driving in the direction of the open sea, but across the - bay, nearly toward the spot where Professor Simpson and I had had our - first altercation. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII—THIRD ADVENTURE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN I reached the - place, the prow of the <i>Violetta</i> had already run aground, and the - stern had swung about, dragging the attached tree trunks after it, so that - the yacht lay in something like its former position, parallel to the - shore, but further off, the shelve being here more gradual. Moreover, she - was now on a windward shore, the waves of considerable height and force, - and, being balanced, so to speak, on her keel, she oscillated, descending - now on this side toward the shore, now on that side away from me, through - an arc of some forty degrees. The situation I beheld with mingled - emotions, both soothed and lacerated, soothed on account of Professor - Simpson's condign punishment, lacerated on account of Mrs. Mink. Their - cries were heard above the tumult. They clung to the landward rail, which - went up and down like a teeter, or a ducking stool, regular as a pendulum, - terrific, but distressing. - </p> - <p> - “For goodness' sake, doctor, do something!” cried Mrs. Mink; and Professor - Simpson shrieked: “Can you not assist? I entreat! I adjure! Do not——” - </p> - <p> - He was interrupted. - </p> - <p> - Something had to be done. - </p> - <p> - The two tree trunks attached to the stern had been driven about, so that - the butts rested on the bottom, in the midst of the surf. Being dragged - back and forth by the motion of the yacht, and at the same time tossed by - the surf, the result was a somewhat complicated motion. To get through the - surf was no great difficulty, for two hundred and odd pounds of - determination. But to draw the butts together, to climb them beyond reach - of the surf, to maintain the uneasy position so gained, astride those two - insane, rotatory, and indecorous poles,—wabbled, danced, dandled, - jerked about in the air by that eccentric and careening-viaduct, whose - leaps, halts, and rebounds resembled the kicking of a restive mule or a - series of railroad collisions—this was achievement, this was a goal - and effort worthy of a man! - </p> - <p> - I succeeded. Clinging to the logs with hands and knees, I looked up. Mrs. - Mink and the professor hung over the shattered rail above me. I shouted: - </p> - <p> - “Come on! I'll meet you.” - </p> - <p> - “But I can't walk <i>that!</i>” she called back. “It doesn't keep still.” - </p> - <p> - “Walk it! No!” I roared. “Creep it, madam! Shin it! Roll it! Come anyway, - and don't fall off.” - </p> - <p> - She laughed. - </p> - <p> - Admirable woman! For self-possession, spirit, and sense, where is her - equal? She mounted, clung, approached. I clasped her, slid back to the - edge of the surf, lifted her, rushed, waded, forced my way to land. She - was wet. I was winded. I admit both. Stretched on the ground I felt - particularly indifferent to any accident, to anything whatever, that might - happen to Professor Simpson. Suddenly I was aware of him. Cast up by an - ebullient wave, he sprawled on the shore and sprang to his feet, crying, - </p> - <p> - “A miraculous escape! I would not have believed myself so agile.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink looked from one to the other of us, and began to laugh. - </p> - <p> - “I am delighted,” he said, shaking himself, “my dear Rebecca, to see you - in such composure.” - </p> - <p> - I got up. I spoke with dignity. - </p> - <p> - “Do I understand, sir, that you've profited by your treachery?” - </p> - <p> - He looked disturbed. - </p> - <p> - “Mrs. Mink has—nevertheless I am not without——” - </p> - <p> - I interrupted and turned to Mrs. Mink. - </p> - <p> - “You approved of this gentleman's behaviour?” - </p> - <p> - “What behaviour? Well! It was bright of him, anyway.” - </p> - <p> - “You knew of the agreement between us?” - </p> - <p> - “Of course, you were going to propose to me next. Fiddlesticks! You've - done that before? What made you let him come first? You shouldn't let - people run over you.” - </p> - <p> - “You were to reserve your decision, madam.” - </p> - <p> - “Humph! I didn't agree to that. Perhaps he's willing to begin over again.” - </p> - <p> - Professor Simpson started. - </p> - <p> - “Mrs. Mink speaks in jest. It would be unprecedented, impossible.” We - paused. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” said Mrs. Mink. - </p> - <p> - “Well, madam?” - </p> - <p> - “What are you going to do?” - </p> - <p> - “I see you like men of strenuous action, Mrs. Mink,” I said. “Would it, do - you think? would it insinuate me somewhat into your favour if I were to - take this axe and strenuously chop Professor Simpson's head in two - symmetrical but characteristic parts?” - </p> - <p> - Professor Simpson looked aghast. - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Mink. - </p> - <p> - “Not feasible, you think? Perhaps not. Suppose, then, I were to cut a - switch and apply it to Professor Simpson's attenuated legs. Could you - candidily recommend that, Mrs. Mink?” - </p> - <p> - “I will not submit, sir!” he cried. “I will not submit!” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink turned and walked rapidly away. - </p> - <p> - “Professor,” I said, taking out my waterproof match-safe and extracting - several matches, “you will take these matches and see that Mrs. Mink is - comfortable. Our rescuers will find us in time, no doubt. Until then you - will respect my privacy. I seek no revenge and offer no congratulations. I - don't inquire into your standards of integrity. I don't see, unless your - system of ethics is fundamentally unsound, how you can reconcile to - morality this reward of victorious evil. But I leave it to your - casuistry.” - </p> - <p> - It seemed to me this was a poisoned arrow well planted. I had set him a - problem likely to irritate his exact mind. I picked up the axe and walked - up the shore in the opposite direction. - </p> - <p> - The afternoon was growing late. I kindled a fire to dry my clothes, felled - a banana tree, and ate bananas. Across the bay I could make out the smoke - of the other camp fire. The <i>Violetta</i> still swayed back and forth, - but not so violently, on her keel. The wind still blew, but the air was - warm. I sat by the fire and took inventory of things in general. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII—PROFESSOR SIMPSON AGAIN - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>EQUAM memento,” I - reflected, “rebus in arduis.” - </p> - <p> - After all, marriage would disturb my pursuits. A man with a liquid and - non-resistant name like “Ulswater,” with a fleshy and floating physique, - with a mind as full of refuse as a sargasso sea, and whiskers resembling - sargasso,—when he proposes to ally himself in marriage to a woman - like Mrs. Mink, whose rational instincts—as a capable and neat - housekeeper—would be to trim his whiskers and rearrange his nature, - to tidy up his mind and sweep it, hang antimacassars over its chairs, - polish its andirons, fling the cuspidor out of the window, and can the - tropical fruitage of his character into jellies and jams in glass jars - with screw tops and rubber bands,—when such a man has in mind such - an alliance, if fate prevents, if an agile Presbyterian professor is one - too many for him, what should he do but remark, “<i>Aequam memento rebus - in arduis servare mentem</i>,” that is, “In trouble take it easy,” and - then immediately proceed to swear himself black in the face, and wish for - a green and red parrot to take up the job after him? - </p> - <p> - Precisely. Also I dried my clothes and whistled. Time passed on, and it - was perhaps six o'clock. Suddenly, as I looked up, Professor Simpson stood - before me, alone. - </p> - <p> - “Professor,” I said, “you intrude.” - </p> - <p> - He seated himself on the fallen trunk of the banana tree. - </p> - <p> - “I am compelled to do so,” he said. “Mrs. Mink objects to the present - arrangement; whether on the score of propriety, or because she regards my - protection as inadequate, I cannot say, I refuse to discuss. It is a - matter, in either case, humiliating to myself. She demands the return of - Dr. Uls-water.” - </p> - <p> - “I am sorry for Mrs. Mink's feelings,” I said, “but I seem to see a lack - of consideration for mine.” - </p> - <p> - “I have stated Mrs. Mink's attitude without commenting upon it,” he went - on. “As regards my own, there is much more to be said. I cannot conceal - from myself that the terms you have applied to my late ill-regulated - conduct would, if properly qualified and defined, in the main be just. I - am, further, upon Mrs. Mink's own declaration, forced to believe that her - consent not for the present to decline my suit, but to consider it, - perhaps favourably, was entirely due to that very action which my - conscience compels me to deplore. She was attracted by that very deviation - from rectitude into which I was tempted and fell. She states that she was - about to decline my proposal absolutely, finally, when my action revealed - to her my character, as she says, in a new light. Not to my position in - the scientific world, my well-earned repute, not to my worthier qualities - of mind and heart, not to her conviction of these claims, can her - capitulation—if such it was—be attributed. You will understand - my distress at this admission made by Mrs. Mink. I fear to infer, and yet - I must infer, a want of seriousness, of strict conscience, on the part of - Mrs. Mink. I showed her my distress, I intimated my fear, I begged her to - allay it, to consider, to recollect the facts more carefully. She became - angry and asked if I repented cutting the rope. I defined my position. She - interrupted, refused to listen, and said that my proposal was now - declined. I endeavoured to reason, to supplement argument by argument. She - prevented me; she commanded me to go and insist on Dr. Ulswater's return. - Such has been my recent painful conversation with Mrs. Mink, concluding - with the command which has caused this intrusion upon you.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't apologise,” I said, gaily, getting up. “You repent and withdraw, I - forgive and forget.” - </p> - <p> - “I have admitted repentance but not withdrawal,” he said, angrily, “and I - refuse your impertinent forgiveness.” - </p> - <p> - “Come along, professor,” I said. “Refuse and admit what you like till the - crack of doom. I've got business on hand.” - </p> - <p> - He followed after dejectedly. - </p> - <p> - As we drew near, we saw Mrs. Mink, with Norah, standing on the high bank - and looking seaward. She saw us, cried out, pointed, and waved her - handkerchief. A small steam vessel was entering the bay. It was Captain - Jansen and the crew looking for us and for the vagrant <i>Violetta</i>. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S FIRST MANUSCRIPT - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE <i>Violetta</i> - was towed out into deep water. Captain Jansen used some badly broken - English on the condition of his starboard rail. Not but that he had - expected more damage than he found, but damaging a ship by chopping a tree - down upon her, hurt him in a sensitive point of seamanship. - </p> - <p> - There seemed to be no leakage, for all that war-dance with the elements, - and mad teetering on a windward shore. Still he preferred to pass the - night in the bay—the weather being uncertain—and tow the <i>Violetta</i> - on the morrow to St. Pierre for repairs. - </p> - <p> - It was evening, and I stood watching the moon rise peacefully and look - down on the gleaming but troubled waters of the little bay. Placid and - poetic she went up among her attendant stars. The wooded shore lay about - us dark and mysterious. - </p> - <p> - “Let me,” I said to myself, “recapitulate. Presbyterianism is - insufficient. Scientific celebrity is insufficient. The precise conscience - and balance of rectitude are to the lover as a wire twitchup to the hungry - rabbit. Action, sharp decision, the habit, so to speak, of getting there, - these are what appeal to Mrs. Mink.” - </p> - <p> - Now, along those lines Professor Simpson was no slouch of a rival. In - point of character he was hard as nails; in decision and action he was - energetic and exact. Yet he had failed. He had speared himself, as it - were, on the angle of an impractical conscience. But where did I come in? - I, who in point of character was a semiliquid jelly fish, an invertebrate - protozoan, whose nature was to float on the heaving and uncertain sea of - humour, bathed in the moonlight of poetry, devouring the chance drift of - knowledge, sucking philosophy out of rock; whose centre of personality was - loose; whose mind was as untidy as a cuttlefish; how could I appeal to - Mrs. Mink? On the evidence so far, I had but one strong point, namely a - practical conscience, a conscience which, having always treated me with a - great deal of—shall I say, with a great deal of tact?—was a - conscience that—— - </p> - <p> - At this point in my reflection Mrs. Mink came on deck. - </p> - <p> - When doubtful in whist, play trumps. When doubtful in any other situation, - ask Mrs. Mink. Her counsel is always trumps. - </p> - <p> - “Mrs. Mink,” I said, as she came and stood beside me at the rail, “I am in - doubt.” - </p> - <p> - “What about?” - </p> - <p> - “The question is this: If a disorderly cuttlefish has proposed marriage to - one of those small neat birds who yet have the knack of making themselves - at home in a wilderness of waves, and by sailors are called 'Mother - Carey's chickens'; if so far as the cuttlefish can see he has only - succeeded in producing in Mother Carey's chicken a state of unconvinced - reflection; if he knows his structure to be floppy and his nature sloppy, - what, in fact, do you think he should do?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't think you're a cuttlefish.” - </p> - <p> - “Ha! I don't insist on the figure.” - </p> - <p> - “You're dreadfully untidy.” - </p> - <p> - “I am.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink was silent. - </p> - <p> - “Should I imitate Professor Simpson to the summit of Presbyterianism, or a - green parrot to the bottom of reprobation? Should I——” - </p> - <p> - “I don't like Professor Simpson, or the green parrot either.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, what do you think we had better do next?” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink was long silent. At last she said, thoughtfully: - </p> - <p> - “I think we'd better go to Trinidad.” - </p> - <p> - “What for?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, they're English in Trinidad, aren't they?” - </p> - <p> - “Good God, madam! what if they are?” - </p> - <p> - “You mustn't talk that way!” she said, sharply. “Of course Catholics may - be good men, but, still, I shouldn't like it in French.” - </p> - <p> - “Like what?” - </p> - <p> - “We'd better be married in Trinidad.” - </p> - <p> - There you are, satisfactory, inclusive, concise! I ask: “How shall I - attain my soul's desire?” She answers: “Be married in Trinidad.” - </p> - <p> - We left Professor Simpson at St. Pierre. He was intending to climb Mont - Pelée and extract knowledge from its oracular mouth. If that solemn, grim, - stony, and sometimes irascible sphinx of a volcano started in to talk to - him, it's possible that the volcano had the last of the argument. Perhaps - not. I haven't heard. He was a very persistent logician. Maybe he meant to - cast himself forlornly into the crater. The idea is luminous, romantic. - But I think, on the whole, that he did nothing of the kind. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Mink says she would never have accepted him, and was merely vexed to - see him outwit me, which it must be admitted he did. But my feelings are - like those of a man who has succeeded by a narrow margin. - </p> - <p> - We lie now in harbour at Trinidad, whose green hills rise sumptuously out - of the blue of the Caribbean. The future promises all happiness and varied - interests; among which interests, I suspect, will be the coming Mrs. - Ulswater's masterly reorganisation of me. Do I flatter myself, or does - she, as it almost seems, look forward to that task with real enthusiasm? - Wonderful woman! - </p> - <p> - Adieu—Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - P. S. The argument from analogy was the sound one—the tropics, the - temperate zone, and the intentions of Providence. Convince her of your - imperative need of her, and you have made the imperative appeal. So far I - see. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X—SECOND DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: - SUSANNAH - </h2> - <p> - Malay Peninsula, <i>June.</i> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OREVER shall my - voice bear testimony to Mrs. Ulswater. She has gathered the races about - her knee. The races didn't all stay there, but it's just as well they - didn't. She has faced the hoary wisdom of the East, and subdued it. At the - present writing Wisdom still acts as if he felt subdued. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater was impatient to reach the far eastern mission field. She - wished to see in action the process by which people, whose souls were - naturally darkened by the opaqueness of their skins, become enlightened. - This opinion as to the origin of idolatry I drew from Mrs. Ulswater with - some difficulty. She held the theory, indeed, dimly, subconsciously. It - was new to me. It is a theory worth examining for its latent mysticism. To - what does it logically lead? If intelligence tends to increase with the - transparency of the fleshly integument, wouldn't I be cleverer if not so - fat? <i>C'est un grand peut-être</i>. But I'm getting thinner. Bismillah! - </p> - <p> - I have in my life pursued many ideals. I have hitched my wagon to certain - stars. Some of the blanked things were comets, and some of them went out - as unregretted as a bad cigar. Now I cling henceforward to this domestic - light and floating fireside of the <i>Violetta</i>. No man has so entire a - footing in the universe as he whose stockings are darned by a woman with a - logical mind. I am not myself a vertebrate. Mrs. Ulswater is my - complement. I am complete. I am satisfied. I am at rest. - </p> - <p> - My family has increased. It now consists of Mrs. Ulswater, an orphan girl, - and an orphan pundit. But I go too fast. - </p> - <p> - On the 13th of last April, we put in at the island of Clementina, which - lies to the north of Mozambique Channel. - </p> - <p> - “Now,” said I to Mrs. Ulswater, “I am complete. I am satisfied. I am at - rest. But why Clementina?” - </p> - <p> - I was presented with and referred to a pamphlet or periodical, in fact, a - quarterly. It appeared to be devoted to the reports of missionary labours. - It is a branch of literature never by me thoroughly investigated. Mrs. - Ulswater has a remarkable series of these pamphlets, covering more than - ten years. A veritable find! - </p> - <p> - Now, in this number of the periodical in question, about two years old, - was an illustrated article by one Mr. Tupper, a missionary, describing an - orphan-asylum in the island of Clementina, and ah! so feelingly, with such - pleasant details of the names and prospects of individual orphans, that I - quickly shared the interest of Mrs. Ulswater. We wished to make the - acquaintance of the following orphans, to wit, the orphan named - “Susannah,” the orphan named “Thaddeus,” and the orphan named “James,” and - the orphans “Caleb,” “Zillah,” “Stephen,” and “Naomi,” these apparently - being the seven beneficiaries of the establishment. - </p> - <p> - “Susannah,” wrote Mr. Tupper, “is characterised by great vigour of mind, - and by astuteness, if not perhaps by invariable serenity. She is the - daughter of the late Rev. Mr. Romney of Georgia, U. S. A., my predecessor - at this mission, who with his devoted wife died of an epidemic fever some - eight years ago. Upon my arrival I found the orphans in a state most - distressingly uncivilised. There are perils in this remote corner of the - world, but hunger and cold are not among them. Little shelter is - necessary, and food is to be had for the taking. Physically, a child can - grow up and thrive almost unregarded.” - </p> - <p> - And so on, most interesting remarks by Mr. Tupper. - </p> - <p> - Clementina looked like a comfortable island. We recognised the port, and - the high green hill, which the illustrations pictured as the site of the - mission. - </p> - <p> - The <i>Violetta</i> was anchored not far from the shore. Mrs. Ulswater and - I were landed on the white beach under the hill. We climbed the hill. “On - the very crest,” in the words of Mr. Tupper's description, stood “a - cluster of bamboo cottages hidden in foliage.” The Asylum! - </p> - <p> - <i>Horribile dicta!</i> - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “I never!” - </p> - <p> - The cottages were empty! Nay, ruined, decadent, most of the roofs fallen! - Eight decrepit bamboo structures in a row! The traces of a lawn, now faded - into wilderness! Oh, neglect and desolation! What had we here? An orphaned - orphanage! Most ridiculous of asylums! - </p> - <p> - A hen fled yelling across the open. In the wake of, in pursuit of, this - hen, there rapidly wriggled out of the thicket seven scratched, and - scarcely to be called clothed, individuals. My impression was immediate. - </p> - <p> - I said, “They are the orphans!” - </p> - <p> - They were. They sprang up in line. They bowed. They shouted with - remarkable unison: - </p> - <p> - “Good morning, sir! Good morning, ma'am!” - </p> - <p> - We gasped. We were astounded. “Well,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “I never!” - </p> - <p> - They began to sing. They sang, in point of fact, as follows: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ Pull for the shore, sailor! - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Pull for the shore! ” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - all except for one orphan, from whose rounded mouth detonated the - statement, “I'm a pilgrim, I'm a stranger,” whose globular face was - slapped with incredible rapidity by the girl who stood next him, at the - head of the line, and who sang on imperiously, though the rest of the - chorus broke down: - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ Heed not the rolling waves, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - But bend to the oar.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - She had lank limbs, and the unmistakable features of an Aryan. I should - have described her offhand as a “personage.” - </p> - <p> - “Susannah!” cried Mrs. Ulswater. “Don't tell me you're not!” - </p> - <p> - “Present!” said Susannah. - </p> - <p> - “Thaddeus?” - </p> - <p> - “Present!” from the globular pilgrim and stranger. - </p> - <p> - “James?” - </p> - <p> - “Present!” - </p> - <p> - James stood at the other end of the line. He was the smallest, Susannah - the tallest, and Thaddeus the fattest of the orphans. “Caleb?” - </p> - <p> - “Present!” - </p> - <p> - “Naomi?” - </p> - <p> - “Present!” - </p> - <p> - “Zillah?” - </p> - <p> - “Present!” - </p> - <p> - “Stephen?” - </p> - <p> - “Present!” - </p> - <p> - Very good. There they were. - </p> - <p> - But alas! it was a run-down, abandoned asylum. Mr. Tupper, that talented - descriptive author, had died some six months before, of the fever that - seemed to be resident, or sporadic, in the island. - </p> - <p> - I discovered, at Port Clementina, a sort of governor or prefect, who - seemed to be officially resident, and by nature sporadic, incidental. He - was the calmest official in the Indian Ocean. There were vast vacant - spaces in his mind. He did not know there were any orphans now at the - asylum. He had understood there wasn't any asylum left. In any case, why - not? In every conceivable case, why not? He had supposed they had all - grown up, or disappeared, or fallen off something, or died of the fever, - or snakes, or been adopted by natives, or something. Why not? In point of - fact, now he came to think of it, he had not supposed anything about it - whatever. Were they indeed still running around up there? Name of God! How - amusing! - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater was indignant. - </p> - <p> - The population of Clementina is of extremely mixed blood. That Susannah - was of Caucasian extraction—age fifteen or so; that Thaddeus also - was of some northern ancestry, by his light hair, high cheek-bones, and - slightly piggy eyes; that James was a diminutive Malayan—as I judged—age - perhaps eight; and the rest miscellaneous African, Arab, French, and what - not—all this argues a curious history for the island; which history - I had no time to investigate, on account of Mrs. Ulswater's indignation. - </p> - <p> - Under the force of this indignation the orphans were swept swiftly aboard - the <i>Violetta</i>. The hen, above mentioned, also came along with the - current. The name of the hen is “Georgiana Tupper.” Mrs. Ulswater - accomplished it in this way. She made an alliance with Susannah. The - orphans were promptly aboard, Again, good! There they were. - </p> - <p> - The following morning they weren't. We found only Susannah still with us - and Georgiana Tupper. The rest were gone, vanished forever. Captain Jansen - approached us, and touched his cap. - </p> - <p> - “Yes'm. They yump; I hear 'em go yump, one, two, dree, four, six, un I get - out dey boat, un dose gone swim ashore, un her don' yump. I don' know.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater turned on Susannah. “What made them jump?” - </p> - <p> - Said Susannah: “They ain't any good, those niggers. They're 'fraid.” - </p> - <p> - “Afraid of what?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, they're just 'fraid to go. Their insides are all mush and dassent.” - </p> - <p> - “You're not afraid, Susannah?” - </p> - <p> - “Me!” - </p> - <p> - Singular, scornful maid! - </p> - <p> - We were unable to find the miscellaneous again. Apparently they hid, - preferring the incidental or sporadic life of Clementina. With this - diminished orphanage, we set over the Indian Ocean, seeking another asylum - for Susannah. - </p> - <p> - I found at Clementina a curious variety of the Asteroidea or star fish. - </p> - <p> - You never saw the beat of Susannah. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI—RAM NAD - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was at Colombo - in Ceylon that we met with Ram Nad. I asked for him in the market place, - and found him. He was sitting on a cobblestone, and leaning over his - basket, asleep. - </p> - <p> - My acquaintance with Ram Nad began many years ago. Somewhere in my - indefinite and unmapped past, I once lived on the island of Ceylon, and - knew Ram Nad. He was by faith a Buddhist, by nature a painstaking liar, by - profession a medical practitioner, or quasi-physician,—not of the - allopathic school, nor of the homeopathic, but of the heteropathic and - absurd. But he practised sleight-of-hand tricks and mesmerism in a manner - that roused my profound respect. We exchanged informations, and I had a - great affection for him in those days. - </p> - <p> - Even then he looked like a mixture of Abraham and an early Christian - martyr, with some resemblance to a sheep. - </p> - <p> - I took him aboard the <i>Violetta</i> in order to get his advice - respecting the orphan-asylums of his native land. - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad already knew himself to be more vertebrate and sagacious than I, - but he did not know Mrs. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - The harbour at Colombo is no harbour, but an open roadstead, though quiet - at that time. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “ The spicy breezes blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.' - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - The hymnal says so, but I don't agree with it. Three-quarters of Ceylon is - an abomination of swamp, sand, and jungle, with a most pestilential and - vile climate; whereas the normal Cingalese person is the mildest, most - peaceful and pious agriculturist that's to be found. - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad wore a blue head cloth. The rest of his clothes were meant to be - white, like his beard. He squatted behind his basket. Mrs. Ulswater rocked - in her rocking-chair, knitting, looking at Ram Nad as if she did not make - out how to begin benefiting him. She examined Ram Nad, who in turn - examined Susannah, who in turn was, at that moment, playing jackstraws. - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad said there were no orphan-asylums in Ceylon that he could truly - recommend, which sounded conscientious. - </p> - <p> - He continued: But for himself, he said, he was a lonely man; desolate and - empty was his house of the beautiful gardens; he was desirous of children - in his old age. The excellent Mrs. Ulswater—might her benevolence be - rewarded! the learned Dr. Ulswater—might his folly and ignorance - have been by time corrected!—he hoped these all would understand his - immaculate motives. For what said the Great Teacher? “Let parents train - their children, and their memories be honoured by the same: let the - husband give his wife kindness, together with suitable ornaments and - clothes, and let her be a thrifty housekeeper; finally, let the pupils - give attention, and the teacher instruct them in knowledge.” The girl, he - said, pleased him; therefore it was possible that he might in righteous - charity adopt her, instruct her. By a singular accident he had but - yesterday taken a solemn vow to adopt a child to his old age; many had - been witness to this vow. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater looked thoughtful. She rather wanted Susannah brought up - Presbyterian. “He quotes Scripture very well,” she whispered to me. “It - sounds queer, but maybe it's his clothes.” But she seemed disturbed, and - looked away at Susannah, who played jackstraws. - </p> - <p> - I reflected vaguely about Ram Nad, on the different kinds of guile he was - equal to, and how if he went off with Susannah, the Indian Ocean would - seem less entertaining. Mrs. Ulswater appeared worried. - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad waived the point, or appeared to. He said he would, if we liked, - display some marvels for our instruction, while further considering. Then - he opened a few common tricks. - </p> - <p> - He took Mrs. Ulswater's sewing, threw it over the rail into the sea, - picked it out of the inner folds of his turban, and returned it. Then he - thrust Mrs. Ulswater's knitting needles down my throat and drew them one - by one from the pit of my diaphragm. It seemed so, sufficiently so. In - fact, it made me feel unwell. He induced Susannah to enter his enormous - conical basket, covered her and stirred inside with his hand, with a - violent circular motion, as one beats eggs with a spoon—took off the - cover, disclosed the interior, and shook it bottom up. No Susannah there! - </p> - <p> - He covered it, stirred again—eggs and spoons—turned it over, - lifted it again. There sat Susannah on the deck, safe but indignant. - </p> - <p> - “You punched me!” she cried, and then turned distracted to clutch at the - small of her back. Mrs. Ulswater came to her help, and unbuttoning her - frock took out the jackstraws. They seemed to have been dropped down her - neck. Susannah was furious. - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad next seated himself opposite her, and fell to crooning and - spooning with both hands—two spoons, infinite eggs. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater said, “Well, I never!” Even I may possibly have ejaculated, - “Ha!” - </p> - <p> - The eyes of Susannah became fixed, her form rigid. Ram Nad stroked his - beard, Susannah the front of her frock. He sighed, she sighed. “Roll!” She - rolled; she kept on rolling; she rolled across the deck and brought up in - the scuppers, where she struggled to continue rolling. “Roll back!” She - rolled back. “Sit up!” She sat up. He fell to crooning and waving—reversed - spoons and a reaching after dispersed eggs. Susannah blinked, relapsed, - awoke. - </p> - <p> - Remarkable maid, Susannah, strenuous, decided. She dashed at Ram Nad. She - snatched off his head cloth. She flung it in his face. She fled to Mrs. - Ulswater and wept loudly in her arms. - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad looked surprised and partly martyred. - </p> - <p> - “Nevertheless, I am not displeased,” he said, picking up his head cloth. - “I will take her to my house of beautiful gardens.” - </p> - <p> - “Indeed you won't!” cried Mrs. Ulswater. “You ought to be ashamed of - yourself.” - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad bowed his head, pulled his beard, and covered himself with - meekness. I suggested to Mrs. Ulswater that there was a Cingalese point of - view. - </p> - <p> - “Surely,” Ram Nad, ineffably mild. “We say no more, excellent Mrs. - Ulswater. Other orphans are elsewhere to be found and the vow - accomplished. But now, if permitted, I go, and return soon with gifts of - fruit plucked in the gardens of my house, that our happiness may be - complete as the meeting of long-parted friends, pleasant as to the bee is - the honey of the flower.” - </p> - <p> - It was all gammon about his house. He had no property except his trick - outfit in a basket, his moderate but amusing clothes, and a lien on a - cobblestone in the market. Mrs. Ulswater observed him quietly. I didn't - make out what she thought of his handsome remarks. - </p> - <p> - He was rowed ashore in the gig, and came back later in a misshaped - Cingalese canoe, kilted fore and aft, with two coolies for rowers, who - promptly departed. He fished pomegranates and pineapples out of his - basket, and was very pleasant. He begged to be allowed to sleep on a deck - rug beneath our palatial awning. He said it was the custom of the country. - So it was, granted a rug and awning were handy. He talked a number of - kinds of gammon, and he knew I knew it was gammon. But, then, I allowed - that a Cingalese of his age and acquirements had a right to be - mythological in his statements. - </p> - <p> - Oh, Ram Nad, friend of my earlier days! I'm free to admit your standards - of virtuous conduct were ever in some respects obscure, not to say too - much for me. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII—RAM NAD CONTINUED - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>Y family at - midnight lay asleep in their staterooms. The Indian moon shone on the <i>Violetta</i>, - which lay lifting slowly with the swell. The watchman sat forward. Ram - Nad, with his chief garment wrapped about his head, was stretched on a rug - on the lee side and just above the portholes of the stateroom occupied by - Susannah. - </p> - <p> - I was awakened by Mrs. Ulswater's suddenly pulling my arm. It was near - three o'clock in the morning. - </p> - <p> - “Listen!” she whispered. “Now, wait!” To my bewildered sense became now - audible the sound of soft, regular steps in the outer cabin and on the - cabin stairs leading to the deck. I arose softly. - </p> - <p> - I saw Susannah in her long night garment, of Mrs. Ulswater's making, - stiffly mounting the stairs with a military step! and beyond her, on the - moonlit deck, whom but Ram Nad, white-bearded, blue-turbaned, - white-garmented, beckoning, retreating! I was about to advance, when at - that moment Mrs. Ulswater shrieked loudly in my ear, and Ram Nad, running - forward, sharply shut and bolted the cabin door. An instant's silence - followed, then shouts and swift feet running aft. I rushed to the - port-hole. Past it and past my face went a swiftly falling and fluttering - body, which splashed in the sea. Was it Ram Nad? Was it Susannah? Mrs. - Ulswater was beating the door with her hands and crying: “Catch that man, - Captain Jansen! Catch that man!” Distressing moment! Norah came from her - room and mingled her voice in the tumult. But there we were, locked in. - </p> - <p> - The cabin door was opened. Captain Jansen's comfortable bearded face - appeared, “Yes, 'm. But he yump for das boat. He gone ofer.” - </p> - <p> - “Then catch the boat. Quick!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes'm. But I got das boat mit un grapple.” - </p> - <p> - We all emerged on the warm night, on the moonlit deck. The women had - donned their shawls. This was the situation. - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad's misshaped and kilted canoe was held fast, and one end lifted - from the water by a grappling-iron, at which a sailor was tugging with a - rope over the rail. The two black heads of his rowers were just above the - water at some distance, moving hastily shoreward, their wakes shining in - the moonlight. Ram Nad was nowhere in sight. Susannah stood on deck, the - watchman forward sat stiff and motionless—both of them rigid, - frozen, mesmerised, wrapped up in his or her inner consciousness like a - ball of yarn. - </p> - <p> - “There!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “He didn't get Susannah. Doctor, we must go - away from this place. I don't like it.” - </p> - <p> - “We can weigh anchor,” I said, “surely, now as well as any time. But, my - dear, as to these ossified unfortunates, I don't quite see. I'm no Ph. D. - Mahatma, nor yet a brindle cat, hell-broth witch. It's mortifying, but - that's my limit. I'm not on to Ram Nad's spoon motion, nor yet his - lullaby. Hadn't we better wait and find another magician that knows how to - untwist the charm? Because Ram Nad appears to be drowned, and these two, - according to my notion, are, as you might say, tied up particularly - tight.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater tried to wake Susannah, but could not. She was indignant. - She thought that I treated the subject too lightly, in language I ought to - be ashamed of, that there was nothing funny about it. Maybe not. I gave it - up. I thought the situation was not without a certain sepulchral but - natural gayety. - </p> - <p> - “Ashamed” I take to be a vertebrate condition. I never could fetch it. - It's left out of me. I've got no centre of personality, no angles to my - circumference on which to hitch a conviction of sin, never could seem to - get hold of that kind of embarrassment. Calling myself a series of - conventionally derogatory and ineffective names is the nearest I can come - to remorse. But speaking impersonally, no doubt Mrs. Ulswater was right. - </p> - <p> - At this point Captain Jansen called: “He's yump in! Yes, 'm. He's yump!” - </p> - <p> - We ran to the rail. There Ram Nad sat in his kilted canoe, wringing the - water from his garments. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater said, “You come up here right away!” - </p> - <p> - He seemed unwilling, but Captain Jansen dropped a rope ladder, and the - sailor jerked on the grapnel, rendering his position untenable. He yielded - and came, wearing an expression of injured meekness. He yielded to Mrs. - Ulswater's command. He spooned and crooned Susannah and the watchman into - normal condition, and retired hastily to some distance, holding on to his - head cloth, avoiding Susannah. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater now reduced matters to order. The indignant Susannah was - persuaded to bed. Ram Nad was put under guard. Mrs. Ulswater and Norah - retired. - </p> - <p> - The anchor was raised. The <i>Violetta</i> got under steam. We glided away - into the Indian Ocean. I remained on deck reflecting, inhaling the soft - breath of the dawn, gazing at the fair palace of the night,—how - marvellously roofed and lit, how floored with sparkling mosaic,—considering - two things which equally excited my admiration, namely, the constitution - of this world and Mrs. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - I conversed with Ram Nad. - </p> - <p> - As far as I could gather from Ram Nad, he had first gotten into - conversation with the watch, and mesmerised that: Norwegian, after which - he had hung himself down from the rail and mesmerised Susannah through the - port-hole. A subtle performance! He did not dare enter the cabin, having a - nervous fear of Mrs. Ulswater. Mrs. Ulswater's emphatic cry had roused the - crew. He had plunged over, and, rising, clutched the edge of the boat; - which being grappled and the coolies fled, he had submitted, first to - concealment, then to capture. Now,—he continued,—were his - excellent intentions frustrated, his purposes to instruct the damsel, who - had intelligence and temperament suitable,—excepting that she was a - female of a tiger and not respectful of elderly men,—to instruct her - in wisdom, according to the Precept, to the end that people might behold - him performing wonders, and his riches increase. But how then? The - righteous man endeavours. But if frustrated, let him be content. Yet he - could but wonder for what reason he was now being carried away, - recklessly, from his native land. - </p> - <p> - I didn't see, either, why we were carrying off Ram Nad, but it seemed to - have points of interest. I didn't see any real objection to it. I - suggested: - </p> - <p> - “You don't think that you ought to be skinned or drowned? Why not? It - depends on Mrs. Ulswater's opinion. But see here, Ram Nad, if you ever try - to mesmerise Susannah again, or anybody aboard, I'll see to the skinning - privately. I'll insert Mrs. Ulswater's knitting needles into your - digestion, Susannah shall stuff your mouth full of jackstraws and head - cloth, and Mrs. Uls-water shall make a Presbyterian of your mangled - remains. You hear me!” - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad took oath he would not. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S SECOND MANUSCRIPT - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">P</span>EACEFULLY we - journey then over this balmy sea. My enlarged family is at peace, - excepting Susannah. The meekness, the surprised interest of Ram Nad in us, - in our purposes and his own situation, are irresistible, except to - Susannah. Mrs. Ulswater seems to regard him as a sort of second orphan. - Susannah resents this idea. - </p> - <p> - We approach the Malay Peninsula. Ram Nad sits cross-legged on a rug, - teaching Susannah the Pali alphabet. I read the English poets to Mrs. - Ulswater, who sews garments for Susannah. So does Susannah, sometimes, - with vicious jabs. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater does not attend to the reading. She has something on her - mind. - </p> - <p> - “Dr. Ulswater,” she says at last, “is Ram Nad a well-educated man?” - </p> - <p> - “My dear, he knows everything that I don't. Therefore he knows infinitely - more than I do.” - </p> - <p> - “Why shouldn't we bring up Susannah among us, instead of looking for an - orphanage any more?” - </p> - <p> - “Perfectly possible.” - </p> - <p> - “Why shouldn't we have a mission of our own on the <i>Violetta</i>, - instead of hunting for other people's missions?” - </p> - <p> - “An idea!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, we will.” - </p> - <p> - “A sort of floating mission,” I continue. “Fascinating, unique conception! - That is, if pursued moderately. The orphans are a success, so far, - including—with some reservations—Ram Nad. But I wouldn't - invest too heavily, too rapidly, in orphans. I would take, in fact, some - pains to get hold of preferred stock.” - </p> - <p> - She agrees thoughtfully: “Of course, the <i>Violetta</i> won't hold a - great many. I should want nice ones. That's what you mean.” - </p> - <p> - “Precisely. For instance, Ram Nad is more interesting, perhaps, than those - whom Susannah so forcibly described as inwardly composed of 'mush and - dassent.'” - </p> - <p> - “Then that's what we'll do.” - </p> - <p> - I think, then, with all deference to destiny, that we will. - </p> - <p> - “I have sometimes wondered,” I remark to Mrs. Ulswater, “just what our - idea was in kidnapping Ram Nad—if it was quite accidental, or if we - were not, on that occasion—shall we say?—in collusion with - accident.” - </p> - <p> - “Why”—Mrs. Ulswater returns to her sewing—“of course! I - thought he wanted to steal Susannah. He wasn't a bit good at pretending. - Goodness, no! But I didn't know how he was going to do it, so I asked - Captain Jansen to stay awake below. But it would have been dreadful if Ram - Nad had drowned. I just let him try, because, of course, I thought, after - behaving so, he couldn't say much if we carried him off.” - </p> - <p> - “But why, at that time, did we want to carry him off?” - </p> - <p> - “It was the pictures in the big Bible,” Mrs. Ulswater replies. “All the - old men there look like him. I thought it would be nice to have him.” - </p> - <p> - Such is our situation. Here I float on Elysian seas. (My next article, on - the Scaphopodae, will astonish the scientific world. My collection of - Cephalopterae is now unique. I have proved three mistakes in Schmidt's - classification of the Coelenterates.) - </p> - <p> - Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - P. S.—Ram Nad begs to remain with us. He is inwardly composed of - guile and gammon. Still, like Susannah, he is in a way a personage. - </p> - <p> - But suppose Mrs. Ulswater learns Oriental mesmerism of Ram Nad, and - supplements—quite unnecessarily—by this means, her government - of me. I should protest: “No, Mrs. Ulswater! Not while I know myself - master of this household!” - </p> - <p> - P. P. S.—Suppose she insists! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV—DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: THE ISLAND OF LUA - </h2> - <p> - South Pacific, <i>January.</i> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>RS. ULSWATER has - collected more orphans. - </p> - <p> - There are, without doubt, many methods of selecting the beneficiaries of a - mission, asylum, home for curables or incurables, or similar foundation. - Mrs. Ulswater's favourite method seems to be what one of the new orphans - calls “a coopdeetat,” but she denies any such preference. She says “It - happens so.” That may be, and yet I have a feeling—a marital - weakness perhaps—that she has a sort of pull, a secret - understanding, so to speak, with circumstances. With the bait foresight, - and the rod discretion, she catches the trout accident. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater, who first established over me a kind of Monroe Doctrine, - forbidding to other powers the annexation of any territorial portion of - me, followed it up by a species of suzerainty controlling foreign - relations; which having developed into something resembling the German - Empire,—that is, nominally an alliance, practically a solid entity - of control,—therein I rest, on the whole, patriotic and pleased. - </p> - <p> - A month ago my family consisted of Mrs. Ulswater, Norah the maid, Susannah - the orphan, Georgiana the hen,—both from the island of Clementina,—and - Ram Nad, a Cingalese pundit and fakeer, whom Mrs. Ulswater had collected - cavalierly—I admit, cavalierly,—who, after the learning of his - race, practised medicine, hypnotism, and sleight of hand; whose medical - ideas were ridiculous, his magic good, his status as an orphan an - acceptable probability; whose chief property was his wicker basket, shaped - like a truncated cone, with a flat cover on top, his vade-mecum, his - universal container. - </p> - <p> - All things he put into it, and there they disappeared. Many things he took - out of it. He was a bully magician, and looked something like a prophet - and something like a lamb. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater was originally interested in foreign missions. Out of this - interest she developed a mission of her own. Her purpose was to employ the - <i>Violetta</i> as a migratory orphan asylum, or mobile base of - operations, from which to scatter regenerative ideas; to sail about - picking up casual orphans perhaps, introducing neatness, good habits, and - practical housekeeping to the Pacific Ocean, rearranging haply its - populations and politics; a sort of slumming on the high seas, an oceanic - College Settlement. A stupendous idea! The Pacific Ocean was much in need - of Mrs. Ulswater. It is a loose, untidy ocean, a “Bohemian” ocean with its - far scattered islands, lunging seas, and idle solitudes. - </p> - <p> - “Brooms,” Mrs. Ulswater said, speaking of the islanders, “brooms, soap, - and taking pains, are what they need.” - </p> - <p> - An ominous phrase, “taking pains”! Is it a fact that not enough pains are - thrust upon us in the normal course of events, that we must acquire - “pains”? - </p> - <p> - I stumped Mrs. Ulswater with that question. Hadn't mankind enough pains - without taking pains? She said: - </p> - <p> - “The Kanakas haven't,” and then reflected. “People,” she said, “never got - civilised by having a good time.” - </p> - <p> - I fear that proposition is sound. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XV—SADLER - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he festival of - Christmas was approaching. Susannah was greatly excited over the - preparations. Mrs. Ulswater was making mince pies. Ram Nad—whose - opinion of himself is that he is an astral and unworldly soul, while Mrs. - Ulswater's is that he differs from all heathen described in the missionary - quarterlies, and my own is that he is as full of gammon as an eggshell is - full of egg—Ram Nad was taking no interest in mince pies. For - myself, in the tropics, I would as soon have eaten a pound of bent - whalebone, or a swarm of congealed bees, as a mince pie, whose inward - action upon me would, I was sure, be similar to that of resilient - whalebone or thawed-out bees; and therefore, although interested in mince - pies, I yet regarded the subject with a certain,—shall I say?—anxiety. - It was under these circumstances that we sighted, approached, and at - length took anchorage at the island of Lua. - </p> - <p> - It was not an unknown Pacific Island, nor yet well-known. The date of its - discovery, its size, inhabitants and products will not be found stated in - a school geography, but a good chart will show its location. Whether or - not there were any white men there I did not know, but thought it likely. - There is a considerable and curious drifting white population in the South - Pacific. The Caucasian is ubiquitous. There is a restless germ in his - blood, unknown to the Oriental and mysterious to himself. - </p> - <p> - A numerous village of wattled huts stretched along the white beach of the - bay where we came to anchor. I have been not a little here and there in - the South Pacific in my time, but never before on the island of Lua. Its - blue and lilac mountains in panorama,—white threads of falling water - on their steeps,—its nearer hills, palmy and green and like moss in - the softening distance, the smooth lacquered water in the bay, the beach, - the little brown huts with domed roofs of leafy thatch, truly all seemed - at peace. A few people came down to the beach to observe us, and presently - a boat put out,—not one of the native outriggers, but a dumpy little - ship's dinghy. With the aid of a glass I made out that the occupants were - two white men. - </p> - <p> - Of the two men, who now came aboard the <i>Violetta</i>, the foremost was - a tall, bony, swing-shouldered powerful man, with a melancholy - countenance, dangling gray moustache, whitish hair, lean throat, - remarkably large hands, and a husky voice, who carried a banjo swung by a - cord around his neck; the other was plainly a Hibernian, stoop-shouldered, - his hair and whiskers forming a circular, complete, and resplendent - aureole around his face, at the centre of which aurora a short black - tobacco pipe was firmly inserted. - </p> - <p> - “How do?” said the bony stranger, mournfully, and then casting his eyes - down on the <i>Violetta</i>'s deck, he stopped and gazed. - </p> - <p> - On the flowered carpet under the neat awning sat Mrs. Ulswater as usual - with her workbasket beside her, her knitting in her hand; there were the - rocking chairs with their doilies, some geranium pots along the scuppers, - and some lashed to the awning supports; there sat that venerable - Cingalese, Ram Nad, with his magic-basket beside him; Susannah held - Georgians Tupper in her lap. - </p> - <p> - “I don't seem to get my vest around your combination,” said the bony one, - observing this domestic scene. “Is it waxworks, or pirates?” He looked - worried about it. “My name's Sadler,” he continued, “and this yere - conflagration behind me is named Irish or Jimmie Hagan, just as you like. - We'd be pleased to know you.” - </p> - <p> - This sounded ingratiating, though his countenance was melancholy. - Presently he sat in one of the doilied rocking chairs, with his feet - tucked away behind him, and he seemed easy-going in his talk, and candid - as to his history. - </p> - <p> - He had been a sailor once, as it seemed, on a smuggling or filibustering - ship along South American coasts, and after that had lived in the city of - Portate, South America, and from there he had gotten himself banished on - account of his interest in romantic politics, and gone to California, and - made money in some kind of Oriental trade; but lately he had been in - Burmah professionally, that is to say, his profession there had been that - of a sort of high priest, a species of abbot of a kind of monastery; and - after that in Sumatra. But a month or more since he had dropped on Lua. - The island had interested him by its romantic politics. He had resolved to - “take a hand in that seducing game, which it looked real sporty,” he said, - “and I judged the showdown was coming soon, but it hasn't yet, and it's - been rolling up the blankedest jackpot you ever saw.” - </p> - <p> - “What!” said Mrs. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - “Beg pardon, ma'am. I shouldn't have swore, but them's the facts.” - </p> - <p> - “What are the facts?” - </p> - <p> - Sadler looked worried. - </p> - <p> - “May I,” I said, “venture to suggest that your terms are perhaps a trifle - technical, or—shall I say?—a trifle remote. Let me explain to - Mrs. Ulswater that by a 'showdown' is intended merely the decision of a - given issue; that a 'jackpot,' as such, may be defined as an accumulation - of undecided issues.” - </p> - <p> - “Why,” said Sadler, “you see, doctor, it's this way. Your ideas about - technical language and mine don't jibe with each other, and I'll bet my - last week's shirt to yours of the week before, Mrs. Ulswater's idea ain't - agreeable with either of us on which point my own opinion was similar to - his, and I regretfully let pass that interesting wager. - </p> - <p> - “Well!” said Mrs. Ulswater again; “What are the facts?” - </p> - <p> - Sadler then described the politics of Lua, in a voice slow, husky, and - bereaved. - </p> - <p> - “Some years ago,” he said, “a friend of mine, who was a white man named - Craney, was king of Lua, for he bought out the different candidates, or - pooled the interests, or something, and mounted the throne himself. - Anyhow, he was killed in a ruction. It occurred to me to come around this - way, which happened about a month back, to ask Craney for the job of Prime - Minister, but I found he was dead, and the place seemed to me then on the - edge of another dynastic war. There was a young chap named Kolosama, who - was the son of the king who succeeded Craney, and there was an old chap - named Ogelomano, who claimed the throne by right of superior wisdom, with - some other complicated rights, and relations, by which it appeared he - ought to have been king before. Awful names, ain't they? Well, this yere - royalty appeared to be partly hereditary, partly elective, and mostly - revolutionary, which is all very well, but hard feeling inside of families - is vicious. That's my opinion. Kolo had the largest backing, but Ogel had - the superior wisdom, as appeared from this: namely, he immejitly laid - himself out to get the support of the newly arrived combination of - military genius, statecraft, and diplomacy—that's me. Arguing with a - scrupulous conscience, then, I comes to this conclusion; I says: 'The - first requirement for a happy kingdom is a forehanded king; the next is a - superior Prime Minister; which it's clear from the behaviour of this party - that he knows what's what, and it's clear from the behaviour of the other - party that he ain't got no real penetration at all; nor he ain't onto the - points of royalty, or he'd know that a kingdom without a Prime Minister is - as unhappy as a cat with no dog to chase her, which anybody but a fool - knows; and consequently this yere Kolosama is unfit to rule this balmy - isle, and this yere Ogel is a promising monarch. That's my opinion.' I - stated that argument to Ogel, and he agreed that was a tart argument all - right, and I was a Prime Minister sent by the gods. Then Ogel and Irish - and I, we went over till we come to the palace, which is built of bamboo - and all on the ground floor, but else-wise is a commojous mansion, and - chuck full of Craney's furnishings; and we discharged artillery from the - front door, to let folks know we was on the throne. Then Kolosama - collected his party, and went off to the other side of the island, and - declared war. Then we called him, on the chance it was a bluff. So it was, - and so was ours. Neither of us showed down. That's how it is. Me and Irish - with Ogel's warriors, and Kolosama with his warriors, have been prancing - forth over these picturesque mountains like we intended to be real - vicious, and dodging back till the island's near distracted. We've got the - wisdom and foresight, and we got all Craney's firearms by the coopdee-tat, - but Kolo appears to have a majority of the foolish population with him - just now, and there you are. There's your jackpot, which me and Kolo are - playing for. I haven't got the hand to open it, or to do anything but - jockey for position, for Kolo's got most of the warriors. I don't know - what's the matter with him, unless his warriors don't like gunpowder. - Maybe his hand's weaker than it looks, but I'd bet something if I held it, - this jackpot would be opened.” - </p> - <p> - “What sort of a man is Ogelomano?” I asked, when Sadler paused. - </p> - <p> - “Fat and sulky,” he said; “but I've seen worse. I've seen homelier looking - men too, somewhere, but I've forgotten where that was. Maybe it was in a - nightmare. For that matter Kolo's all right enough too. I guess the island - would be happy with either, were t'other dear charmer away.” - </p> - <p> - Sadler stopped and rubbed his chin gloomily, and said: “Nice outfit of - yours. Waxwork pirates, maybe?” - </p> - <p> - I explained the purposes and mission of the <i>Violetta</i>. - </p> - <p> - “Floating orphan asylum,” said Sadler, “sort of perambulating benevolence, - and steam-propulsion mission house, to teach temperateness to the tropics. - Why, that's all right. A chap that wants to pad his soul with good deeds, - and go to sleep on his benevolence like a downy bed, why, he's got a good - proposition. I've done it myself, and it worked, more or less. But I - always got restless.” - </p> - <p> - He began thrumming distressful and complaining chords on his banjo, looked - off to sea with a dreamy expression, until presently he raised a tune that - never should have existed, and sang to it in a voice like that of a walrus - with a cold: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ I want to be an orphan, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And with the orphans roam, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - A millionaire my guardian, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - A steam yacht for my home—- - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - “Doctor,” he said, huskily; “it's this way. You've come to the right shop - with those goods. Yere's your chance for benevolence. If you'd steam - around to the other side of Lua, and find Kolo, which I could spot his - location for you pretty near; and if you'd ladle him out some of that - there benevolence, and tell him you were his long-lost aunt that was - thinking of giving him some toy firearms, maybe he'd come aboard. I - shouldn't wonder. But if he brought any warriors with him, you'd better - make him send them ashore to wash their faces, which they'll need it all - right. Then if you happened to get up steam and sail away with him, and - took him to the States, and give him a college education, and sent me the - bill, why, I'd send a draft on San Francisco for any amount in reason. - Why, see yere, doctor, that scheme is neat surely, and benevolent to hatch - eggs, ain't it? Yere you leave the island of Lua with its politics smooth - as milk, and a forehanded king whose policy is guided by an unequalled - Prime Minister, in the direction of single matrimony and a vegetarian - diet. Consider that strategy! Regard it! Look at it all around! Remark the - moral purpose! Catch onto its simplicity of design! Why, it's a wonder!” I - looked at Mrs. Ulswater, who had said nothing during the above, but sat - there sewing, and sometimes glancing up at Sadler. Now she laid down her - sewing and said: “Are you sure the island would be better off if one of - the kings were taken away?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure, ma'am! Why, look at it! You can see for yourself.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course it would look so. But then, is Kolosama a nice person? We don't - like to take orphans without knowing about them.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll tell you on the square, ma'am,” said Sadler, “Kolo ain't bright, or - he'd have called me before now. He's slow. He's plodding. Moreover he's - self-willed and opinionated. He don't take to prime ministers, or official - advice. He needs discipline, and he needs encouragement. And yet I'd call - him a promising kid, and a hopeful orphan. He'd be a credit to you. Yes'm. - No doubt of it.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater took up her knitting and said, “I should like to see the - older king first.” - </p> - <p> - “If you'll come up to the palace to-morrow,” said Sadler, “the old man'd - be pleased to see you. You've no notion how he'd like Kolo to have a - foreign education.” - </p> - <p> - He gathered up his large frame, murmured, “Piratical waxworks!” and - departed, together with Irish, who silently smoked his short black pipe. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVI—AT THE PALACE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T seemed to me - that a Prime Minister who composed poetry impromptu and played the banjo, - was a species never yet examined and classified by me. But as to - Kolosama's entry into my family circle, it seemed to me the selection of - orphans should be made only on strong recommendations. - </p> - <p> - The next morning Mrs. Ulswater, Susannah, and I started. A well-trodden - path led through the forest, and at the end of a few miles came out into a - pleasant valley, where lay a scattered village of huts for the most part - small, fragile, and consisting generally of a woven roof, posts to support - it, and an occasional mat between posts. The palace was easily - distinguished, standing in a grove on a hill, a long one-storied bamboo - house, surrounded by piazzas. Evidently it had been built by a white man. - In some odd way it suggested the States. - </p> - <p> - Sadler met us in the village, and brought us to his own dwelling, which - stood at the foot of the palace hill. I judged it had been furnished from - the palace with properties of King Craney. It included five bamboo huts - adjoining each other. - </p> - <p> - A Kanaka servant, who stood by the door of one of them, shrieked and - vanished. That hut seemed to be the kitchen. A cat of faded and depressed - appearance replaced the Kanaka in the doorway. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, please!” cried Susannah, “May I have that cat?” - </p> - <p> - “Dolores is her name,” said Sadler, looking dreamily at the cat, “which - she likes to sleep on pies. She's got a heart sorrow, sort of indigestion - of the spirit, same as me. Some of it comes from dissipation, some of it - on account of sleeping in the oven on pies, which has varieties of climate - pretty stiff, so she's got a seared and wasted look, as you might say. - Besides,” he added after a moment's thought, “she ain't got no dog to - chase her.” - </p> - <p> - “Goodness!” said Mrs. Ulswater, looking into the kitchen. “Isn't it - awful!” - </p> - <p> - She was down on Sadler's housekeeping to an extent you'd hardly believe. - Still, it must be admitted that the weeds growing over the floor made his - kitchen look like a pasture lot, and that the kitchen windows were - somewhat untidy on account of the Kanaka cook throwing slops at them from - a distance. There was coffee in a china vase, and tobacco in the teapot. - There was a hen laying an egg in the soup tureen, which fitted her very - neatly and snugly. - </p> - <p> - “Please!” cried Susannah again, “May I have this cat?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure!” said Sadler. “It ain't good for her here. She gets bad habits - living along of me. Any cat would that lived along of me.” - </p> - <p> - We went up to the palace. It was furnished profusely with the kind of - things that seem stuffy in the tropics, for the lamented royalty called - Craney seemed to have had a taste for plush-covered chairs, red-flowered - carpets, portières with fringes and tassels, glass-bangled lamps, and - gilded clocks. For the clocks King Ogel seemed to share King Craney's - weakness. I counted fourteen clocks in the audience room, all going but - three. The king sat on a plush sofa among his clocks, fanning himself. The - largest and gildedest clock stood on the floor in front of him. - </p> - <p> - He was an elderly man, stout and unwieldy, of morose expression, his - complexion inferior, and his grizzled hair stuck full of chicken bones. He - wore a pink shirt without a collar, a shell necklace, and a kind of skirt - that seemed to have been formerly a lace window curtain. Sadler introduced - us. The king grunted, “How do,” and we sat down on the plush chairs and - discussed Sadler's scheme. Sadler expatiated on the highly moral qualities - in it, the peace that would fall on the distracted island, when Kolo was - thus removed strategically and for his own best welfare. The king looked - pleased. His pleasure seemed to arouse his hospitality, and his - hospitality was startling. He rose, shouted, and stamped. From far piazzas - came scuttling, came running, brown men and women bearing baskets and - platters; in the baskets was fruit, in the platters fish cooked most - messily, and other articles of diet indescribable, which I had no - curiosity to taste. But I thought Mrs. Ulswater seemed favourably - impressed with the king. - </p> - <p> - Now fell the hour of ten, and the clocks broke out striking noisily. - </p> - <p> - Over the king's face passed an expression of unutterable delight. His - heavy cheeks wrinkled into smiles. He thumped his chest and chuckled. He - turned from clock to clock, keeping his eye in particular on the great - gilt clock at his feet, from whose ornate front no sound as yet was come. - </p> - <p> - The clocks all ceased. But the great gilt clock had not struck. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly as a crash of thunder the king passed from chuckling happiness to - anger, violent and uncontrolled. He clambered to his feet. He stamped. He - swore in the language of beach combers and decayed mariners, inexcusable, - abominable. He shook his fists at Sadler. - </p> - <p> - “My clock don' go!” he shrieked. “Arrr! She don' go!” and snatching up a - fruit basket, he fell, in utter and abandoned rage, beating, kicking, - yelling, swearing, scattering fruit, upon the frightened and - frizzle-haired henchmen and henchwomen, who fled with tumult and wailing, - from room to room, from piazza to far piazza, and beyond into the forest, - where the noise of pursuit died distantly away. - </p> - <p> - I was amazed. Mrs. Ulswater sprang up. - </p> - <p> - “Is <i>that</i> a king!” she said indignantly, and started for the piazza - followed by myself, by Susannah with the cat, and by Sadler in - deprecation. “He ought to be spanked! That's what he ought,” said Mrs. - Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - “You're right, ma'am,” said Sadler. “Ain't a doubt it would be a good - thing, and I was thinking, when you spoke, as how, when Kolo was gone and - things was settled, I'd just get that introduced quiet like into the - regular court ceremonial, putting it under the heading of 'Official Care - of the King's Person,' which I was thinking, ma'am, as how it was my - recollection a strap got there better'n a shingle. Yes'm.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater stopped on the edge of the porch, mollified. - </p> - <p> - “Would you really do that?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes'm.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” she said, “if you'll catch that king and bring him down to tea - this evening, we'll think it over by that time. Goodness! How do you know - Kolo is any better?” And we returned to the <i>Violetta</i>. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVII—MRS. ULSWATER TAKES ACTION - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>ADLER came down - late in the afternoon, and with him little Irish and King Ogel. If Mrs. - Ulswater was expecting a contrite king, she was disappointed. He strutted - across the deck in front of a bodyguard of three huge warriors, whose garb - and outfit were more ferocious than ornamental, more ornamental than - decorous, and more ornamental in intention than in result. He was - unashamed. His misbehaviour had left no traces on his complacence. He was - impertinently vain of that terrific bodyguard. I noticed Mrs. Ulswater's - expression become suddenly set and determined. I knew the king's - complacence irritated her, his unrepented misbehaviour roused her instinct - for discipline. Something was going to happen. I looked at the warriors. I - wished it might not be something that would cause the introduction into my - anxious digestive organism of those shovel-headed spears, unpleasant - objects, nay, surely indigestible. I hoped for the best. I was calm but - expectant. - </p> - <p> - “Doctor,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “when kings are invited to tea, don't people - have entertainments for them?” - </p> - <p> - “Invariably! Music and dancing!” I exclaimed, delighted, relieved at the - turn Mrs. Ulswater's intentions seemed to be taking. “Daughters of - Herodias—hem—I mean to say you are quite right. No barbaric - potentate can swallow his victuals without some agreeable distraction.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course we haven't any of those things,” she said, and looked - thoughtfully at Ram Nad, who was squatted near on the flowered carpet, - “but if Ram Nad should hypnotise the king's men, don't you think it would - amuse him?” - </p> - <p> - She pointed to the bodyguards. I thought it would. Ram Nad consented. - </p> - <p> - Venerable and unappalled, he drew near, sat down in front of the guards, - and began his monotonous chant and circuitous gesturing before their - stolid faces, whose stationary expressions and complexions variegated with - tattoo were unmoved by Ram Nad's odd behaviour. Slowly those - copper-skinned and impassive spearmen in ornamental outfit keeled over and - lay stretched and rigid, mute symbols of barbarism, promiscuously - prostrate, frozen ferocities, motionless images of war. A whirl of Ram - Nad's hand, and they rolled, tumbled, turning promiscuity into chaos, - across the deck, and brought up in the scuppers among the geranium pots. - There lay shields and spears, sprawling legs and tattooed faces, grotesque - and horrific, among the brown earthenware pots, the round velvety leaves - and small red petals of that plant so familiar in the cleanly windows of - our native land. - </p> - <p> - The king was delighted. He thumped his chest, and laughed. - </p> - <p> - Jimmie Hagan took his pipe out of his mouth, profoundly astonished. - </p> - <p> - Sadler murmured “Waxworks!” - </p> - <p> - “More!” the king commanded, doubled over with laughter. “More!” - </p> - <p> - He wanted the bodyguard tumbled down the companionway, but Mrs. Ulswater - wouldn't allow it. The king turned sulky. Language rumbled in his throat - preparing to be shrieked. - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater; “As if I'd let those things into my - parlour! Have them tumbled down the gangway if you want to.” - </p> - <p> - The king brightened up. Infatuated man, he did not see—he had no - inkling of—the danger that lurked in Mrs. Ulswater's set mouth and - determined expression. I could have warned him, but refrained. Clearly she - was right about the incongruity of fully armed and half-naked warriors - precipitated down stairs into parlours. One feels the impropriety of it. - </p> - <p> - While Ram Nad, at the king's boisterous order, was extricating the - warriors from the geranium pots, and while Mrs. Ulswater went forward and - was talking with Captain Jansen, I was thinking it impossible that she - meant to allow the bodyguard to be sent helplessly overboard, inhumanely, - to the great peril of drowning. I was about to intervene, when I saw Mrs. - Ulswater return, followed, to my surprise, by Captain Jansen and the crew. - </p> - <p> - “There!” she said, pointing; “Be quick!” - </p> - <p> - Judge of my astonishment, when Captain Jansen and our muscular crew fell - upon Sadler, Hagan, and King Ogel, and jerking each backward, proceeded to - tie them hands and feet. - </p> - <p> - “Murther!” said Hagan. “Murther,” he repeated more mildly, and then, “Hand - up that poipe.” - </p> - <p> - Susannah cried, “Goody!” and rushed about. She was distracted by all that - wealth of curious phenomena, and the scattered arrangement of objects of - interest. - </p> - <p> - “Pirates!” shouted Sadler. After one huge lunge he subsided, and laughed. - He thundered with husky merriment and unseasonable mirth. - </p> - <p> - The humiliated and outraged monarch began eloquently, but Captain Jansen - clapped his hand over and corked up the royal anathema. They carried King - Ogel forward. My impression is that Captain Jansen used a strap, varied, - perhaps, at intervals, by a board, to impress upon him Mrs. Ulswater's - opinion. We heard of him, for the time being, no more. - </p> - <p> - “Tie up those Kanakas!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “Now, Ram Nad, wake them up. - Now, they must be taken ashore. Captain Jansen, you must get up steam. - Untie Mr. Sadler and Mr. Hagan. There!” - </p> - <p> - She sat down, rocked nervously, and took up her knitting again. Sadler's - laughter had ceased. We both looked at her. We wondered and waited. - </p> - <p> - “Well!” she said at last defiantly,—as the sound of oarlocks told of - the boats drawing away shoreward, loaded with disentranced but well-roped, - disarmed, bewildered warriors,—“I don't know what you think, but I - think Ogel would have been a dreadful king, and from what Mr. Sadler said, - I think Kolo will do better. Besides, it's easier to carry off the one - that's handy, instead of running after the other, isn't it? Of course it - is.” She added a moment later, “Of course, Mr. Sadler, you needn't come - away unless you like, but you said you didn't get on with the other king, - and I thought it would please Dr. Ulswater. I know he enjoys your - company.” - </p> - <p> - Sadler wiped his eyes and sighed. - </p> - <p> - “I ain't been dished up so green and tasty, like a salad,” he said, “since - me and Moses and Pharaoh used to play draw poker, and Moses kept special - providences up his sleeve, nor I ain't had such a good time since the last - time I was licked for stealing horehound candy; which my recollection, - ma'am, is in favour of straps rather'n shingles. It's all right. Lua's too - small for me. You can't stretch nights without kicking other families out - of bed, which makes reverberating scandals. If you sit down, you squash - the judiciary; if you get up, you shake the throne. This civil war's no - good. Why, - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - What's a war without no slaughter? - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - I'd rather be at - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - A Coopdetat - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - By Mrs. James Ulswater.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater went below. Her nerves were perhaps a trifle upset. Not so - Susannah. But Susannah was young. She sniffed the battle of life. She - thrilled to the keynote of action. She fell upon Jimmie Hagan with eager - inquiry as to his precise feelings throughout the late excitement. Sadler - and myself stood watching the landing of the spearmen. - </p> - <p> - “You don't mind going with us?” I asked him. - </p> - <p> - “Me? No! I'll have to get even with you sometime or be restless. I ain't - up to abducting Mrs. Ulswater nor Susannah, but I'll lay for you, doctor. - You'd better put Jimmie on the crew. He's a good seaman. I'll be a guest, - or a passenger, or an orphan, anything you like. Why, look yere, doctor. - Mrs. Ulswater's been and took me out of temptation to stamp on my - fellowman, and I'm grateful. She's given me a chance at innocence. Why, my - fellowman's always lying around in my way, and I keep stepping on him, and - kicking holes in his garments when he has any, and bumps on him where he - hasn't, and then I goes off to eat sackcloth and ashes, and wear bread and - water. That's mostly the monotonous way of it. But the point that gets me - is this: I recommend an orphan, and she thinks that'll do for a king; I - recommend a king, and she has him spanked for an orphan. Now, if a - candidate for a throne ought to qualify that way, maybe he ought; but I - never heard of it before, which is why you see me dished for a salad.” - </p> - <p> - So departed the <i>Violetta</i> from the island of Lua. May its politics - have peace! - </p> - <p> - The knock-out drops which Ram Nad kept in the ends of his fingers, on the - whole, had worked better than mine, and Mrs. Uls-water's logic had been, - as ever, penetrative, precise, practical. - </p> - <p> - The preparations for celebrating Christmas were resumed. My anxieties - returned. I confided them to Sadler. I said: - </p> - <p> - “It is my fixed opinion, that for revelry and sorrow, for a taste of - Eden's rapturous but snaky joys, a mince pie in the tropics lays over most - things.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, look yere, doctor,” he said. “That there king's got a tempestuous - liver that can't be downed, and he likes pies. The king 'll eat it, sure, - he'll eat it.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVIII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S THIRD MANUSCIPT - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> LYRICAL poem - composed by Sadler, and by him sung inharmoniously to a banjo:— - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “I'm, so to speak, shanghaied to sea; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And who you think my shipmates be? - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - One family of millionaires, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Rambling the deep in search of heirs; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - One hypnotiser Oriental; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - One orphan maiden ornamental; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - One widowed cat; one spinster hen; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - A crew of blue-eyed Swedish men; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - One head of hair too hot for wearing; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - One captive monarch spanked for swearing— - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - is not what you would call amethystine or ethereal; but poetry, of a kind, - we have come to expect of him. But when Susannah brought me a ballad, - composed by herself, on the foregoing events, it produced in my mind—and - I speak moderately—a state of exhausting confusion. I copy this - ballad. It is entitled “The Kings of Lua.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - 'There were two kings in Lua, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Which only could use one. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Now Sadler came from Sumatra - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And needed some more fun. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “He was a white man, although - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - He was not exactly white, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - But tanned and played on the banjo. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Which angels would delight. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “He said, 'Prime Ministers are good things, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And I'm one of those things, Hooroar! - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - I'll bet my last week s shirt, O Kings: - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - To yours of the week before.' - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “The old King wore a pink one neat, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - But not much else did wear. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - His face looked something like mince meat. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Some bones were in his hair. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “Another man was Irish, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And I will make a joke, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - His hair it was so fierish, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - That always he did smoke. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “The other King we never saw; - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - He didn't come to tea. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Oh, wretched island of Lua - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I weep and wail for thee. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ So then they had a war, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Although they never fought. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - 'There's something ails this civil war,' - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Said Sadler, 'I wonder what.' - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “Ha! Ha! The <i>Violetta</i> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Came sailing in one day. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Ogel and Sadler and Irish - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - We yanked and took away. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “About Lua now it is now known, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I'll tell you what I think. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I think Kolo ran up the throne - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - As quick as he could wink.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Yours—ULSWATER. - </p> - <p> - <br /> <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIX—DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: THE MYSTERY OF - GEORGIANA AND DELORES - </h2> - <p> - Samoa. <i>March</i>. - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N respect to - incisive logic, decision, and force, I have sometimes thought that - Susannah resembles Mrs. Ulswater. The characters of both, in contact with - my temperament, produce a harmony, thrilling but agreeable. But then my - temperament is a kettle drum. I have sometimes thought that on a - temperament more lute-like, the impact of Susannah might produce—shall - I say?—surprise. On the temperament of Sadler,—melancholy and - yet buoyant, intricate and yet simple,—the impact of Susannah seems - to produce sometimes extraordinary jubilation, sometimes a condition quite - the reverse. He calls her “a melojous circus,” a phrase implying - jubilation. - </p> - <p> - He is a man of moods, a contrast to the consistent placidity of Ram Nad, - the Occident to the Orient. Are they then supersignificant types of that - new world and that old? One of them turns to life's mystery a bold but - troubled face, and covers with a jocular and careless manner a soul - unreconciled. The toil and restless wandering of individuals, the surging - migration of races, the incessant change called progress, are all but the - symptoms of his feverish discomfort, his cosmic ill adjustment? And the - other, the Ram Nads, the old-world type, meek, timid, tricky, placid, has - it found at least, out of its age-long thoughts, how to make its truckling - peace with the mystery? C'est un grand peut-être. Meanwhile the education - of Susannah is the principal enterprise of Mrs. Ulswater, Sadler, and me, - to say nothing of Ram Nad. - </p> - <p> - It was my habit to read aloud from the poets, the divine Shelley, the - noble Tennyson, the golden Keats. Susannah's opinion of these poets was, - on the whole, scornful. - </p> - <p> - They appeared to her tortuous and deceitful. Their language was, she - thought, “mussy.” She did not believe they stated the facts. - </p> - <p> - Hence, if any one had asked me sometime ago whether I thought it possible - or likely that Susannah would bud, bloom, burst loose and explode into - song, I should have said: “No! Impossible! Susannah has all the materials - of strident criticism, but none of poesy.” - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless here lies her “Ballad of the Kings of Lua.” Here lies - moreover her tragic and profound “Ballad of Georgiana and Dolores.” What - can be said of them? First, this; that I take the immediate cause of - Susannah's explosion to have been Sadler. He has the lyric habit. He - composes as a rooster crows, whenever it occurs to him. He is apt to state - his mind in that form. The lyric habit is infectious; youth is imitative; - hence arise schools of poetry; hence Susannah's explosion. But Susannah's - gift is for the narrative, the reflective. She has not the lyric cry. Hers - rather are the forceful expression and the just remark. - </p> - <p> - We left King Ogel at Sydney. He was pensioned by Sadler. He will probably - pass his remaining years in intemperate leisure. Mrs. Ulswater did not - think there was any prospect of working his reformation. He was not a - desirable orphan. My opinion was that Susannah was occupation enough for - an orphanage. - </p> - <p> - Of Georgiana Tupper, that reserved, that exclusive hen from the island of - Clementina, and of Dolores, that stricken cat from Lua, I am about to - speak. - </p> - <p> - It was the 13th of February. We were steaming eastward somewhat to the - south of the Loyalty Islands. The weather had been oppressive, the night - turned threatening, and by morning it was blowing a gale. I went on deck - to watch the watery phenomena. The sea was tumultuous and black, the - clouds overhead hung low and rainy, and the intense wind trailed streamers - of cloud across the sea. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly, as I stood there, a tall black column of water rose directly - ahead of the <i>Violetta</i>. - </p> - <p> - She swerved aside in answer to her helm, narrowly escaped disaster; and - that contorted and insurgent object, that careening maelstrom, and - insensate Charybdis, that water spout, went whirling by on the port side. - </p> - <p> - But now, behold! the sea all about was columned with water spouts, - mushroom-shaped, their summits lost in eddying gloom—infuriate - smoke-stacks, roaring volcanoes waltzing on end—perpendicular and - intoxicated whales, bowelless of compassion, active and voracious—gyrating - black funnels of wind and water, full of exuberant malice, full of demons - of the nethermost deep striving to climb the pendant and embattled - heavens. Between the shattered sea and low curtaining clouds, rumbled - about us that tremendous warfare. Now and again a spout would fall, broken - like a pipe stem near its base, and another heave up, grip the vapourish - canopy above it, and come racing over that chaotic ocean; through the - midst of which forest of fluid insanity and monstrous fungi of the sea—even - as through some vast cavern columned with maniac stalagmites and abandoned - pillars of wet combustion—we fled. - </p> - <p> - How long this condition of affairs lasted, I could not say. How we - escaped, Heaven and Captain Jansen may know. The seas now and again swept - the deck. - </p> - <p> - When we found ourselves at last with no water spouts anywhere near, and - the upper and lower world reasonably disconnected, Sadler and I went - below, where we found Mrs. Ulswater nervous, Susannah excited, Ram Nad - calm as a browsing cow. We discussed the experience. By night the weather - was fairly calm. Not till then did we find that Dolores and Georgiana - Tupper were missing. - </p> - <p> - In the forecastle, it had been supposed that they were aft; in the cabin, - that they were forward. They were nowhere. The minutest search was in - vain. From one end of the yacht to the other we went—from deck to - keel. None could remember having noticed them, except Ram Nad, who stated - that he had seen them on deck before the tumult arose. No doubt remained - then. They were gone. What could be said? What interpretation could be put - upon it? What other than this? that in endeavouring to pass, during the - storm, from the forecastle to the cabin, or vice versa, they had been - blown or swept overboard. - </p> - <p> - But why both? How, in particular, Dolores? Georgiana was but a hen; a hen - can be swept or blown; her anchorage is weak, her sail area apt to enlarge - with the wind; whereas Dolores was a cat, carrying four to five anchors to - each foot, and a sail area small under all circumstances. What force then - could have torn loose her desperate grapple? unless it were—a - pathetic possibility here—that, seeing Georgiana, the companion and - support of her bereaved existence, thus blown away, she had rushed - devotedly to her rescue; or—a still more affecting thought—that, - simply resolved not to outlive Georgiana but to perish with her, she had - cast herself after Georgiana upon the weltering deep. - </p> - <p> - When this last idea occurred to me, I sought Susannah and turned it over - to her. The first effect was unfortunate. Tearful, at the time, she burst - out weeping. Mrs. Ulswater said I ought to be ashamed. Sadler, with - mournful sarcasm, did not see why a man, because he was full of ideas, had - to slop over like a tub of soapsuds—surely a mixed metaphor, a - confused figure of speech. - </p> - <p> - Another idea occurred to me. It was that Susannah had the entire - sympathies of the <i>Violetta</i> in tow. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XX—THE BALLAD OF GEORGIANA AND DELORES - </h2> - <h3> - THE BALLAD - </h3> - <p class="indent20"> - THERE was a cat and named Dolores, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And she had many worries. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - They made her ill. They made her thin. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Her stomach was all tumbled in. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “Oh, grief! Oh, dear' Who does not wail! - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Dolores had a beautiful tail - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - It was black and partly yellow. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - She was so fair and good a fellow. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ I don't mean she was ever fat, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I mean she was a woman cat - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Now, there was a hen too. Oh Shame! - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Now Georgiana was her name - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ Now, to be proud she had a right. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Her eyes they were very bright, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And all her toes she had but one, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Although some of her tail feathers were gone. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “Hark! The sea is full of awful posts - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Which make a person think of ghosts. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Hark! The hurricane so fierce does blow. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - She is gone off the ship Woe! - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ Dolores did not wait to purr. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - 'Farewell,' she cried. 'I go to her.' - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - The foam it slithered through her claws, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - She was drowned in Friendship's Cause. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ My precious darling! Oh, my pet! - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - You both so hated to get wet. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Now you're as wet inside as a water pail, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - It makes me sick I die, I faint, I fail. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Now, sharks and whales, you are so big, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - If you should eat them, you're a pig, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Now, little fish, make friends with them please, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - With Georgiana and Dolores.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_FOOT" id="link2H_FOOT"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - FOOTNOTES BY JAMES ULSWATER. - </h2> - <p> - First Stanza: As the Ancient Mariner began his marvellous tale, “There was - a ship,” so Susannah begins, “There was a cat”—boldly, ruggedly, a - leap <i>in médias res</i>. The first stanza is a condensed and yet - accurate analysis of Dolores, ending with a striking bit of realism. - </p> - <p> - Second Stanza: A wild burst of grief subsiding sadly into tender - reminiscence. Note how the proportions of black and yellow on the tail of - Dolores are delicately discriminated, the “black” being, in point of fact, - predominant. - </p> - <p> - Third Stanza: We are introduced to Georgiana. Here arises a difficulty. - What was there in the condition of being “a hen” to warrant the - exclamation, “Oh, Shame!” Surely none! I interpret the passage thus: the - exclamation “Oh, Shame!” is simply the poetess' passion bursting through, - as it were, the reserve of the narrative, and in this way it prophetically - forecasts the fatal issue. It is not, I think, a reflection or invective - against hens, as such. - </p> - <p> - Fourth Stanza: Observe how just and truthful are the details, how - Georgiana's right to a certain pride of manner, which indeed was hers, is - critically based upon the brightness of her eyes, upon the approximate - completeness of her toes. And yet it is honourably admitted that there was - a deficiency of tail feathers. - </p> - <p> - Fifth Stanza: As the ballads of folklore are ever distinguished by a - certain abruptness of climax, so here Susannah. Note the present tense, - used only in this stanza. In the last line, how remarkable in effect is - the passionate interjection which follows the simple statement of - Georgiana's catastrophe! - </p> - <p> - Sixth Stanza: Last line, “slithered”—a difficult word, and yet - effective! The whole line is masterly. - </p> - <p> - Seventh Stanza: The last line is clearly a Shelleyan reminiscence, a trace - of my readings aloud of that poet. And yet, if Susannah had plagiarised, - it was at least, boldly, frankly. - </p> - <p> - Eighth and Last Stanza: Note the contrast between the defiant and - denunciatory address to the “whales and sharks,” and the pleading - gentleness of that petition to the “little fish,” that they receive with - comfort and affection those sad and houseless visitants, who had perished - not ignobly, not unworthily. - </p> - <p> - A poem composed by Sadler on the foregoing events: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “The climates got out on a spree, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - A heaven-and-hell carouse, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And Satan built along the sea - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - The pillars of his house; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And 'mong them all they drowned one hen, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - One played-out, seedy cat, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And then slid off to sea again, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And let it go at that, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Leaving some waves to sob and worry, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Leaving Susannah crying.— - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Oh, Lord, this world is sound and fury, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And nothing signifying. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - But come a time when heaven and hell - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Has settled their arrears,— - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - 'Bout twilight of the judgment day, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - When all the books are put away, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And all the little souls gone home - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Each to its place in kingdom come— - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - The Lord and me, we'll set and—well, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - We'll set around and talk a spell - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - About some woman's tears.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXI—SUSANNAH AND RAM NAD - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE deck of the <i>Violetta</i> - had resumed its ordinary domestic look. True, no Dolores lay on the - carpet, no Georgiana pecked and scratched in the scuppers. At some - distance apart on his rug, his basket behind him, in deep abstraction, sat - Ram Nad. - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad had absent-mindedness down to a science. He could roll up his - eyeballs and go off like a bullet. When not abstracted he usually played - jackstraws. What recondite connection there was between him and jackstraws - I never made out, but I suspected it was the delicate sleight of hand - required, and the practice it gave him, which fastened him to that - Occidental game. Certainly I would back him against any jackstraw player—But - there never was such a jackstraw player before. The laws of physics were - nothing to him. Gravitation in jackstraws he ignored. - </p> - <p> - Sadler, Susannah, and I were in conversation under the awning, but Mrs. - Ulswater sat a long time silent. - </p> - <p> - “Doctor,” she said at last, “do you think Ram Nad could have Georgiana and - Dolores in his basket?” - </p> - <p> - Susannah started. On me too the idea had a certain volcanic effect. - </p> - <p> - “Why suppose so?” I said. “Is there evidence? Have you a subtle instinct? - Does he look a shade more virtuous than usual? If he does, it would go to - prove he has been accumulating sin. But does he? He looks to be precisely - as usual. Why suppose they didn't go overboard? Why not adopt my theory - and Susannah's of Dolores' pathetic departure?” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose they did.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater sighed, and was silent for some moments before she went on: - </p> - <p> - “But if Ram Nad churned them into his basket the way he does with things, - after what I've told him, it's flat disobedience, and I won't stand it - from a heathen. Georgiana never would go on deck when the wind blew, and - they were both in the cabin the night before the water spouts. Of course - if I accused him of it, and it wasn't so, he'd be perfectly crushing. He'd - be crushing if it <i>was</i> true, for that matter. But somehow I don't - see how it could have happened, and I won't have Ram Nad getting the best - of me. I wish you'd see if you can find out.” - </p> - <p> - Now if anything suits my temperament and talent, it is wily diplomacy, and - the worming out of another man by devious ways the carefully guarded - secret of his soul. I took a camp stool and sat down before Ram Nad. He - was abstracted behind the whites of his rolled-up eyes. I said with subtle - suavity: - </p> - <p> - “Wake up, you old Cingalese snake of a juggler!” - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad came out of infinity, and answered with welcoming gesture: - “Imbecile, why do you trouble me?” - </p> - <p> - “Where,” I said, “are Georgiana and Dolores, you depraved and disgusting - pundit?” - </p> - <p> - “How do I know, pig?” - </p> - <p> - But this limpid flow of pure reason was not, it seemed to me, really - headed for Ram Nad's soul secret. I skilfully shifted the attack. - </p> - <p> - “Why, in this way you might have an idea, illustrious. As I understand - your theory of everything, it's this: The entire universe, you say, is - only a general idea which has the misfortune to be particularised in - spots. Normally, it's just an abstract conception, but parts of the - conception have somehow blundered into a curious condition called - concreteness. A very distressing condition, very. Bless my soul! - Concreteness is an awful catastrophe.” - </p> - <p> - “As you state it so, it may be so stated,” said Ram Nad. - </p> - <p> - “Now then, if any person then, such as Georgiana or Dolores, either - tragically, or peacefully, or in any manner whatever, becomes dead, you - say of them, simply: They have returned to generality; they are no more - separately existent; they are rid of the burden of identity; they have, so - to speak, disappeared in that airy original mixture again. Such would be - your description of the case.” - </p> - <p> - “You possess some misunderstood fragments of truth, O brother,” said Ram - Nad. - </p> - <p> - “Very good. But see here! When you churn things in that remarkable basket - of yours, and they are gone, and I ask: 'Where are they?' you invariably - say: 'They have become general ideas.' When I ask why I can't see or touch - them, you answer, 'General ideas are not visible or tangible, but are of - the mind purely.' Sometimes, at this point, I have perhaps ejaculated, - 'Gammon!' I apologise. Sometimes, on the other hand, you have exclaimed, - 'Imbecile!' I forgive. The question is this: What's the difference between - being generalised in a basket, and being generalised by drowning? Are they - not the same? Or do you follow my argument, illustrious?” - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad considered. - </p> - <p> - “This is a worthy inquiry, O brother. It may be your mind is at last - becoming capable of thought? But how shall I answer. Is there a - difference? Should I not answer that there is none?” - </p> - <p> - “There can't be, Ram Nad, there can't be!” I exclaimed. “Reason proves it. - Then, see here! Why can't you, then, restore Georgiana and Dolores? It's - all the same, for reason proves it.” - </p> - <p> - If there did, as I fancied, for an instant pass over Ram Nad's patriarchal - face, into his meditative eyes, an expression, if not of cunning, at least - of a certain pleasant humanity, it vanished quickly. - </p> - <p> - “You have yourself answered,” he said. - </p> - <p> - “The difference is this: if the cat and hen of inquiry had been - generalised here by me, I could so restore them; but because they are - drowned, I am not able. Therefore the question is answered.” - </p> - <p> - “I see. That was the point. I thought maybe you could—a pardonable - mistake—your talents are so extraordinary. I thought you might be a - resurrectionist on the side. You'll excuse me, I'm sure.” - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad withdrew again behind the whites of his eyes, and I returned to - the awning, reflecting. Ram Nad had lacked hypnotic subjects since Mrs. - Ulswater put her foot down on his fixing any human inhabitant of the <i>Violetta</i> - that way. - </p> - <p> - But it struck me I'd never known a man with so fine an outfit for - casuistry as Ram Nad, such a liquid and euphuistic term for slaughter and - theft, such philosophic refinement in the practical process. Thus: you - generalise your neighbour's watch. It becomes an abstract idea, and - belongs to the original nebulous unity of pure conception. You go around - the corner and concentrate your mind on the idea till it's particular - again. You get about the same watch. Maybe not. Pretty similar. It seemed - so to me. - </p> - <p> - “I pass,” I said to Mrs. Ulswater. “Who plays next? Ram Nad's got 'em, - that's my penetrative opinion; but he can bluff like a fire engine.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm going to give him a piece of my mind,” said Mrs. Ulswater, - indignantly. - </p> - <p> - “Why, my dear,” I said, “I don't believe it would fetch them. I believe - Ram Nad could put even a piece of your mind into his basket, and churn it - to a harmless generality. I do indeed. Your play, Sadler.” - </p> - <p> - “Spank him,” murmured Sadler, sleepily. - </p> - <p> - “Ha! King Ogel! Hum! Why didn't we induce Ram Nad to generalise that king? - Mightn't it have had a sort of—shall I say?—a refining effect, - a deodourising effect? Well, maybe not. Spanking was, in his case, I - should say, bracing, suggestive; as applied to a king, I admit its point. - But, now, as applied to a patriarch, I should draw the line, I really - should. Your turn, Susannah.” - </p> - <p> - Susannah sprang up and started across the deck toward Ram Nad. We watched - her in silence, in expectation. She stood before him a moment conversing, - then dragged the conical basket around in front of him, and of her own - accord climbed into it. This was interesting. We all three arose and drew - near them, while Ram Nad covered the opening with a corner of his loose - garments, and fell to that familiar procedure resembling the motion by - which, with fork or spoon, the energetic housewife blends and fuses the - delicately organised egg into a yellow somewhat, an inorganic mess. - </p> - <p> - Wherein Ram Nad's skill or secret consisted, its scientific theory, I did - not—I do not now—profess or expect to know. I call him an A1 - magician, and pass the deal. Did it consist in hypnotic deception of the - observer? I incline to that idea, on account of the element of gammon - therein. Was it some unusual sleight of hand? Was it a knowledge and - control of some occult but natural law? I have at times leaned to that - hypothesis, only to return again either to gammon or the pleasant repose - of a gaseous doubt. He appeared to be able on request, with any object not - too large to go into his absorbent basket, there to dissolve the said - object into nothing. You could look into the basket. You could feel with - the hand. You could search Ram Nad's clothes, or comb his beard. You would - come to the end of ultimate wisdom, and conclude to pass the deal. Then, - on request, he would reproduce the object. - </p> - <p> - Susannah is not a large object; she is about the size of Mrs. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - “You're sure she isn't taking any harm?” said Mrs. Ulswater, peering into - the mysteriously empty basket. “What on earth did you do with her? Well, - she's not there. Fetch her out.” - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad covered the opening, churned a bit, and then rolled up the whites - of his eyes and concentrated his mind. - </p> - <p> - “Stuff!” said Mrs. Ulswater, “You're pretending.” - </p> - <p> - “Show not knowledge to a woman,” said Ram Nad, politely, “but indulgence.” - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks!” - </p> - <p> - He turned the basket upside down. Mrs. Ulswater tipped it over. - </p> - <p> - By the sacred Bo Tree, by the antiseptic waters of Benares, what is the - wisdom of the East against the logic of Susannah? - </p> - <p> - “Susannah!” I cried. Sadler and I clasped hands and danced, glorious and - flamboyant, in the circular manner of a “ring-round-rosy.” - </p> - <p> - “Susannah, hosannah!” I cried, and Sadler chaunted: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “Ram Nad, you're a son of a gun, tralala, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Ram Nad, if that isn't one, tralala, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - On you I don't happen to know,” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - and continued, chaunting: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “You'd better quit sinning of sins, tralala, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Or you'll maybe be breaking your shins, tralala, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - On things you don't happen to know.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - For there on the deck, smiling quaintly, sat Susannah! There, clasped, one - in each of her arms, were Georgiana and Dolores! - </p> - <p> - Ram Nad rose silently. Martyred meekness was the foundation of his facial - expression. Dignity and charity were its fringes and decorations. He went - forward among the sailors. - </p> - <p> - Calm was restored. Susannah explained. She had thought that, if Ram Nad - had put Georgiana and Dolores in some sort of place, and if he did the - same thing to her, perhaps she would be in the same place, and why - shouldn't she find them? Such was Susannah's logic, simple, yet - transcendental. Questioned on the matter of being churned, she said that - she began to feel very comfortable and soft, and then something like - custard, and then like custard that was all around everywhere; that is, - she was both custard herself and contained in custard; and so, reaching - out in the custard of which she consisted, she caught hold of Georgiana - and Dolores. So far Susannah. Such is all the evidence bearing on this - singular event. - </p> - <p> - “Susannah,” I said, “I like your analysis. Do you happen to feel anything - in the nature of a ballad beginning to—to root around inside you? - Because—here is the point. This ballad, as it stands, of Georgiana - and Dolores, you see——” - </p> - <p> - “That!” said Susannah, scornfully, “that's no good now. It isn't so.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S LAST MANUSCIPT - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OR four reasons we - purpose now to move, by summery stages and many an ocean isle, to Portate, - whither these, my written words, will perhaps not long precede us. - </p> - <p> - The four reasons: First; the poet Sadler claims to have been once banished - by executive edict from the city of Portate, and has a notion he would - like to examine his condition of exile, so to speak, at close range; to - poke once more a certain irascible Jefe Municipal, or Mayor, doubtless of - your acquaintance, in the midriff of his temper. Second; Mrs. Ulswater - seems to have a singular hankering affection for one who, she says, “was - the nicest boy there is,”—a distinct opinion in a confusion of - tenses. - </p> - <p> - Third; the poet Susannah. Now what the bearing may be, in Mrs. Ulswater's - mind, of Portate on Susannah, is not so clear to me. But to me this is - clear, that Susannah is in a way outgrowing the capacity of islands. She - is in need, I admit, of a continental connection. Fourth; I have some - researches to make in South-American archaeology. - </p> - <p> - Ah, Susannah! What is there about this frank maidenhood that a mist - sometimes gathers in Mrs. Ulswater's lucid eyes in looking at her. - Susannah's nature is not, as yet, I should say, compact of softest - sentiment. Passionate in affection, sudden in resolve, terrific in action, - given to valour and wrath, why about her should the emotions of this - vessel all dance in a species of harmonious jig? Why should this - concussive and rebounding person rouse in my own glutinous nature a - phosphorescent glow, as of a jelly fish, and cause my languid tentacles of - emotion to flutter about like a flag in the wind? Why lies the melancholy - Sadler tonight on the small of his back in a deck chair, his knees hooked - over the rail, his feet pendant above the sea, and, in a foggy voice, to - an abominable tune and the twankle of an exasperating banjo, sing: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “Good night, my Starlight, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Queen of my heart. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - You are my star bright, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - We are apart. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Me where the high seas - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Thunder and smite, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - You in your sky dreams, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Good night, Starlight.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - I do not, indeed, apprehend Sadler to be directly addressing Susannah, as - such, in these terms and with that inharmonious vocalisation; but I - apprehend the impact of Susannah upon Sadler to arouse in him something - other than jubilation, something within the sunless caverns of his memory, - certain uneasy glimmerings of an old romance. And I ask, why? To the eye - of pure reason, Susannah contains as much of the vapour of moonlit - sentiment as a coal scuttle. The eye of pure reason, after any continuous - examination of Susannah, feels as if it had been in a prize fight, and - emerged therefrom a blackened optic and out of business for the time. And - yet there arises—hark! again, above the low breath of the sea wind, - rises that melancholy song: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ Good night, my Starlight, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Trembling to tears, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - White is my hair, white - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - In the wake of the years. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Over the lee wave - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - You shine on my night, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Me, the old sea waif, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Good night, Starlight?” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Yours—Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - (End of Dr. Ulswater's Fourth and Last Manuscript. ) - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIII—I RESUME THE NARRATIVE. THE PORTATE ULTIMATUM - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE city of - Portate, on the west coast of South America, when I knew it, had already a - distinct flavour of enterprise. Two Northern companies had much to do with - its affairs. One of them, The Union Electric, had the trolleys and the - street lighting; the other had been longer on the ground, was called The - Transport Company, and owned the inland railroad and the principal line of - steamers in the harbour. I had charge of The Union Electric plant. Both - were large companies operating in numerous South-American cities. - </p> - <p> - There is a river called the Jiron, which runs down from the mountains, and - makes a green strip through a desert land, and so on through Portate to - the sea. Even from the sea you can make out the white caps of the Andes; - but in the heats of Portate, you decline to believe that the white is - snow. - </p> - <p> - Portate is the seaport of the country. There is a telegraph line running - inland to the capital. The monkeys do gymnastics on the wires, and the - natives steal sections of it to tie their roofs on with, on the theory - that the thing is plain foolishness, and the enterprise of fools is the - profit of the wise. Then you go around and lam the native and take the - wire, but he stays by his own opinion, and the Government wants to know - what you mean by allowing official messages to be interrupted; for, they - say, monkeys and roofs are not in the contract, and call it improper - frivolity to mention them: “Why tie on roofs with official messages? Why - improperly submit important business to the gymnastics of creatures - without intelligence?”—till you come out of it by swearing yourself - blood relation to all the monkeys on the Jiron, which seems as - satisfactory as anything, being put down to the inherited madness of the - Northerner. There are several varieties of monkeys on the Jiron. - </p> - <p> - In the city of Portate there are wharves, which float off to sea in - freshets, and have to be pursued and brought back in disgrace. The trolley - line goes from the wharves to the Plaza, and then visiting about town. The - telephones and electric lights are the pride of the enlightened, but the - unenlightened think they are run by connection with that pit of the sinful - about which Padre Rafael is an authority. - </p> - <p> - “For, observe! It is not as wood that it burns. <i>Madré de Dios</i>, no! - It is the wrath of the devil on the end of a stick.” - </p> - <p> - The Union Electric had the contract for the whole outfit of the lights and - trolleys, and sent me down to handle it. I had good nerve then. I thought - electricity was king, and that a man could do anything he set out to do. - He can, but my nerve is not so good now. - </p> - <p> - Now The Union Electric Company's contract was to furnish the city of - Portate so many arc lights, at so much a month per light, with monthly - payments, but there was more politics in it than I was used to. It took me - some time to see that if the Mayor bought a set of gilt furniture on the - 28th, and the paymaster a span of horses on the 29th, it wasn't reasonable - to bring them a city lighting bill on the 30th. But they thought it - unreasonable, and after awhile I came near thinking so too. I had to get - five signatures to each bill, and the signatures took turns going off into - the country between the 30th and the 15th. After that they generally came - with protests in parentheses, that arc No. 53 had been observed by - respected gentlemen to sputter improperly, and that arc No. 5, on a - certain night, had refused to burn, in contempt of authority,—which - was because a native had heaved a stone into it, out of religious - scruples. They were always in arrears. - </p> - <p> - They liked it that way. They said it was delay in tax-collecting. It was - very warm. Did the Senor suffer from the heat? Alas! the tax collector was - too fat. It had been represented to his Excellency that tax collectors - should be thinner. They were thirty thousand dollars behind. It seemed to - me that the city of Portate was too happy. It didn't have troubles enough. - </p> - <p> - I went to see the Mayor, what they call the “Jefe Municipal.” - </p> - <p> - He was a puffy old man, of about the fatness of the tax collector, but - smaller, and wore a white moustache and imperial in such a way that it - seemed to be his symbol of authority. - </p> - <p> - I said, “Mayor, the city owes me thirty thousand dollars.” - </p> - <p> - “Is it possible!” he cried, holding up his hands. “But we do pay you too - much. How does the city owe you so much if it is not too much?” - </p> - <p> - That was good tropical logic. Tropical logic always confused me. - </p> - <p> - “My friend,” he said, “is it not in your country also that the corporation - oppresses the people?” - </p> - <p> - “The Union Electric,” I said, “doesn't do business for love of humanity, - and it didn't send me down here for my health.” - </p> - <p> - “Alas! No?” sighed the Mayor, wiping his forehead. “The corporations are - without souls, pitiless. I read it in a newspaper, that also of the United - States. But if the Senor's health is delicate, a trip to the hills—-” - </p> - <p> - “I give you till Wednesday night.” - </p> - <p> - He brightened up. - </p> - <p> - “It is a festival night. The municipal band will play in the Plaza. The - people will dance. Portate is a city of pleasure, a second Paris. And you, - Senor, will honour us, on the balcony of the magistrates.” - </p> - <p> - “Thirty thousand dollars by Wednesday night, or I shut off the lights. - With great regret, your Excellency——” - </p> - <p> - “Senor——” - </p> - <p> - “It's an ultimatum. Allow me to express, nevertheless——” - </p> - <p> - The Mayor rose, smiling. - </p> - <p> - “Nevertheless, you will observe the festival. A delight, Senor, a - panorama!” - </p> - <p> - I went over and tried to impress the paymaster, but he wouldn't be - impressed either. He said arc No. 38 was shining persistently into the - upper-story windows of the house of a municipal councillor, against his - honour and privacy. He said the son of the municipal councillor was to - marry his, the paymaster's daughter, and The Union Electric Company - oughtn't to disturb such alliances. I went down to the plant as fast as - possible, feeling in the mind to see people that were reasonable and - steady, like the six dynamos. - </p> - <p> - Chepa was my foreman's name, and a good man he was—a half-breed of - fifty years perhaps, with gray hair about his ears. I told him I was going - to shut off the lights if they didn't pay up, and Chepa's hair stood on - end. He said I was a distinguished gentleman, and would be shot for an - anarchist together with himself. - </p> - <p> - “Mother of heaven! It will be a hot time. Behold me! I am game!” - </p> - <p> - I told him he wouldn't need any more heroism than came natural. I only - wanted him to switch off, and throw the machines out of gear at nine - o'clock Wednesday night, and then disappear for a day or two. - </p> - <p> - “Don't let them lay eyes on a hair of you.” - </p> - <p> - That was Saturday if my memory is right, the third of May. It came on - Wednesday without any more interviews. The day was hot, and I didn't see - that the tax collector was getting thinner with extra labour of collecting - taxes. But the preparations for the festival were going on, so innocent - and peaceful it would break your heart to see, with ridiculous strips of - coloured cloth around the wax-palms on the Plaza; for a wax-palm grows a - hundred and fifty feet high, and looks like a high-born lady; and red and - white stripes around the foot of her, like a barber's pole, aren't - becoming. I sent up a man with the bill in the afternoon, and he came back - saying the Mayor was so busy with his uniform that he wouldn't look at - him. I gave orders to shut off the switch at nine o'clock. About eight in - the evening I disguised myself with a cloak and a villainous slouch hat, - and left my house, which was a mile out of the city, though handy to the - plant. The cook had run off to the Plaza, and I plugged up the telephone, - so it was a house that couldn't be conversed with. Then I walked into - town. - </p> - <p> - The Mayor's uniform and several other uniforms were on the balcony of - magistrates, the Mayor making a speech to the effect that it was a - municipality without parallel, a second Paris, which civilisation regarded - universally, and exclaimed, “Behold Portate!” There was Padre Rafael, - standing directly under an electric light, and it was curious to see him - with that kind of saint's glory around him, and smiling like a plaster - cast of Benevolence. Whoop-bang! went the brass band, with the bass drum - miscellaneous, and the cornets audacious, and the trombones independent, - but aiming, you might say, at a similar tune. And all the Plaza fell to - dancing and conversing, with the fountain in the middle sprinkling - recklessly, and the wax-palms done up in red and white bunting, and the - electric light shining uncannily, with their bills unpaid. - </p> - <p> - “Come up, Padre Rafael!” shouts the Mayor presently, catching sight of his - reverence, “to the balcony of the magistrates. It is a glorious occasion.” - He puffed out his chest so anybody could admire that liked. - </p> - <p> - And then the lights went out, and the band ended off with a grunt and a - squeal. - </p> - <p> - The Plaza was black as a hat, only for a few lights in the windows, and - quite silent for a moment. I lit out when the howls began. It seemed to me - they'd sound better from a distance. There were people running and - shouting along the pitch-black streets. But getting into the outskirts of - the city, I found there were a few stars shining, and came home without - trouble. I sat down on a bench in the garden and waited. It was a hundred - yards or more from the house. It was very peaceful, with all manner of - tropical scents floating around. Shutting down the lights of Portate - didn't seem to bother the rest of South America. - </p> - <p> - By and by a carriage drove up, and there was a deal of banging at the - doors, and tramping around the house. I thought it was an under-official - that threw a rock through the window, not a real dignitary. Later there - was another carriage, more banging and tramping. - </p> - <p> - I went to bed after that. I don't know how long they tried to telephone - from the City Hall—the telephone didn't say. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIV—THE ARREST - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN I awoke in the - morning, the sunlight was shining brightly through the shutters, and I lay - awhile getting things straightened out in my mind, wondering what the - authorities would do next, and sorting my own cards. Then I noticed a - murmuring all about, not like a conversation of a few people, but like the - voices of a crowd at some distance. I took a cautious peek. Oh, my native - country! The yard was full of soldiers of the City Guard in their pink - uniforms, all squatting on the ground very dejectedly. - </p> - <p> - “Hi!” I thought. “There's no hurry about getting dressed. The cook must - have stayed shy, or they'd have got me.” - </p> - <p> - I never saw that cook again. I've heard that he came on the soldiers about - three o'clock in the morning, camping in the front yard. Their orders were - to stay there till I came home. The cook went off into the country to - avoid politics. - </p> - <p> - “Speaking of the cook now,” I said to myself, “they'll arrest me without - breakfast. They'll march me into town afoot, like a malefactor. It won't - do for the dignity of The Union Electric.” - </p> - <p> - With that I wrapped myself and the telephone in double blankets, took out - the plug, and cautiously rang up a livery-stable. - </p> - <p> - “Carriage!” I said, “to Senor Kirby's house, North Road, in an hour.” - </p> - <p> - Then I prospected in the kitchen on tiptoe, and collected a spirit-lamp - and such matters, got dressed, and breakfasted behind the shutters with a - calmness that was a bit artificial. The City Guard wasn't breakfasting. By - the calamitous features of the elderly officer sitting on my horse-block, - they didn't expect to. El Capitano Lugo was his name, and a very friendly - man, after breakfast. - </p> - <p> - I sat smoking behind the shutters, and waited for the carriage, which came - along leisurely about nine. The soldiery destroyed the picket-fence - getting into the road all together. - </p> - <p> - “What news?” said El Capitano Lugo. - </p> - <p> - The driver was a scared man. - </p> - <p> - “Eh!” he said. “But I know nothing, Senor Capitano, nothing! Carriage to - Senor Kirby, North Road. A telephone.” - </p> - <p> - “It is an empty house, idiot!” - </p> - <p> - With that they were all crowded close about the carriage, talking in low - tones, but excited. It was about ghosts, as the captain told me after, and - there ran a theory among them that I had been a spirit for the last twelve - hours, turning off lights and sending telephones to avenge the atrocity of - my murder. - </p> - <p> - But it got no farther than a theory, because of the opening of the door, - and me coming out on the porch in duck trousers, polka-dot tie, and a calm - that was artificial. - </p> - <p> - “Is that my carriage?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “Ah!” shouted the captain, making for me, over the wrecks of the - picket-fence. I said: - </p> - <p> - “How d'ye do?” - </p> - <p> - “I arrest you!” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Of course you do. Get into the carriage.” - </p> - <p> - And off we went bowling toward the city, with the guard plodding far - behind in pink uniforms, and very dejected. Captain Lugo himself would - answer nothing when I tried to show him that pink uniforms were in bad - taste for a city guard. - </p> - <p> - But, oh, the extravagance of language at the City Hall, and the Mayor with - his beautiful temper in ruins! - </p> - <p> - “Intolerable! The contempt of dignity, the mockery of constituted power! - By whose orders were the lights turned off?” - </p> - <p> - “Mine, your Excellency, of course. Told you all about it last Saturday.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>Â la carcel!</i>” he shouted, with his official moustache standing up - at the ends. “He has despised the city. Take him to jail, hastily.” - </p> - <p> - “You'd better look out,” I said. “It's an international complication. The - United States will be capturing Portate with an extension of the Monroe - Doctrine,” I said, fishing wildly for an argument. - </p> - <p> - “Insolent foreigner!” said he. - </p> - <p> - “May Portate be darkened forever!” said I. - </p> - <p> - “<i>A la cârcel!</i>” said he, and four pink uniforms hustled me and my - duck trousers out into the street and around the corner to the jail. - </p> - <p> - Now that was an unpleasing place to be in. I charged up fifty dollars for - the experience, to The Union Electric Company, who said it was a good joke - and paid it, eventually; but it wasn't a joke. - </p> - <p> - The jail was an expanse of deal-wall on the street, except at one place - where there was an architectural doorway. And within there was a large - patio or courtyard, a low adobe building surrounding it, with rows of open - cells, and a sort of cemented veranda in front. That was the Portate City - Jail entire. There were guards at the door. They shoved you in, and you - did what you chose. There were groups of dirty peons lolling about, others - playing some game with pebbles and fragments of cement, two women who had - been officially interrupted while pounding each other's heads, a donkey, - some cats, and a sad-eyed pig, all arrested for vagrancy. - </p> - <p> - I sent a guard up to the hotel for a chair, and sat down haughtily in the - corner of the veranda behind the gateway and farthest from the sun. The - groups of peons gathered around me. Their manners were naturally good, but - they couldn't avoid the romantic fascination of me. I sent another guard - with a telegram to the United States Minister and a message for the - resident Consul. I gave the guard a dollar to buy tobacco and cigarette - papers, and compromised with the friendly peons. We agreed on a circle - twenty feet away, which was near enough for conversation, and far enough - for a draught between. There was a wall of them, all supplied with - cigarettes, and me the centre of observation. We discussed the government - of Portate, and there was no one in the City Jail but thought it needed - reform. - </p> - <p> - By and by the Consul came, and he was so interested and pleased with the - situation that he wasn't up to the duties of his office, as I told him. He - said the Mayor was in luck, on account of the extreme heat up-country at - the capital. - </p> - <p> - “My guess at the Mayor is: he's figuring to keep you in jail over night - for the sake of his dignity, and cover you with documentary apologies in - the morning,” said the Consul. “And I've been telegraphing the Minister, - and can't get him; for he's gone hunting up the cool of the mountains with - the President of the Republic, the Minister of the Interior, and some - other official parties. I say, why did you pick out a festival and - presidential excursion day? You bold, bad man! said he, sticking his hands - in his pockets and laughing at me. - </p> - <p> - “Stay here all night!” I shouted. - </p> - <p> - “Can't help it,” said the Consul, grinning. “I've done all I could. He'll - get into trouble likely. What can I do, if he wants to run his risk and - stand by his luck?” - </p> - <p> - “I'll denounce you at home for inefficiency.” - </p> - <p> - “Have a cot bed?” - </p> - <p> - “Get out!” - </p> - <p> - “Pleasant dreams!” he said. “It 'll be a hot night;” and with that he went - off grinning. - </p> - <p> - The afternoon wore away slowly. I began to think the Mayor might have me - down after all, and wondered if Chepa would run the plant that night with - a detachment of pink soldiery over him. I sent a guard after some lunch. - No one else came except my lawyer, who brought some newspapers, and said - the Mayor was blushing all over with happiness and conceit. He said there - were crowds in the Plaza, and sure enough you could hear the mutter and - shuffle of them, for the Plaza was but a few blocks away. It seemed to me - they were making more noise than before, and when the lawyer was gone, and - the afternoon was late, it seemed to have grown to a kind of dull roaring, - with shouts and howls intermixed. The peons in the patio were stirring - about, too, and jabbering. The dusk was coming on faintly. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXV—MRS. ULSWATER'S INSURRECTION - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HERE was a clatter - and tramp of feet in the street outside. The door of the patio flew open - with a bang. - </p> - <p> - “Take your dirty hands off me!” Bang, went the door again, and there in - the patio stood a little squat Irishman with red hair and stubby black - clay pipe in his mouth. - </p> - <p> - “What's the matter?” I called to him, for his hair was rumpled and his - coat torn, with rough handling. He ran to me, and the crowd, the - simple-hearted criminality of Portate, gathered around us. - </p> - <p> - “Hoosh!” he said. “It's an insurrection, sor. I'm arristed for - distributin' insidjus proclamations in backwoods Casthilian, an' the - guards has taken me last copy, tellin' how The Mayor has Tyrannously - Arristed the Electric Lights! Release Misther Kirby or Down wid the Mayor! - Shall Portate be Darkened? Citizens, Rise!' Oh, hivens, me entherprise and - adventures!” - </p> - <p> - “Comb down your red hair,” I said, “and go on.” - </p> - <p> - “It's auburrn, sor!” - </p> - <p> - “It's fine shade of gold, you Hibernian Apollo! Who in time are you?” - </p> - <p> - “I come in yesterday evenin' on the <i>Violetta</i>” - </p> - <p> - “What!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sor. Me name's Hagan, but Sadler's gone away from me, an' I have the - trimbles in me bones.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll be shot! Are they all right?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure, they are.” - </p> - <p> - “Go ahead then.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sor, me an' Sadler an' the docther, we got ashore as soon as we - could. 'Twas in the early evenin', an' thim two went off somewhere for - somewhat; and me, I went down Bolivar Street to an old haunt of me - mimories, to see what was there. An' who should come out of the caffy but - Chepa. Sure, he's your foreman now, but onct he was me frind an' dispised - acquaintance in this city of sinfulness many a year ago. 'Red hair!' says - he wid a shriek. 'Auburrn!' says I, 'ye grizzly Dago.' An' wid that we - ombraced. 'Och, Jimmie!' he says, 'you're the man I'm wantin',' he says. - 'Where's Sadler?' 'I dunno,' I says, 'not just now. He's around the town.' - 'Tis happy he'll be then this night,' he says, 'for society an' politics,' - he says, 'an' populations an' powers 'll be playin' discordant chunes,' he - says. 'Come on,' he says, 'an' help me ungear thim dynamos.' Wid that we - started for the plant, an' me not knowin' at all the divilmint that was - goin', an' we come to the plant, and Chepa set the dynamos buzzin' like - bees, an' thin sat down an' explained his language wid information. 'At - nine o'clock,' he says, 'I shut 'em off and disables the machinery,' an' - he did. Then we come back through the town by the back streets. There was - wicked rage in the heart of Portate. She wint to bed in the dark, and had - bad dreams. But we come down to the docks an' hired a boat out to the <i>Violetta</i>, - and we told the missus and the young la-ady about it. After awhile comes - out the boys in the gig wid a letther from the docther sayin' him an' - Sadler was gone up counthry on a night thrain in pursuit of South-American - archylogy. 'Kit,' says the missus, readin' it out to the young la-ady, - 'Kit seems to have this city in a barrel, an' he's plugged the shpigot, - an' where in the barrel he is I dunno,' he says, 'for we've been to the - electric plant and we've banged on the doorway of his house, an' nothin' - happened, an' Portate is tumultuous and dark. Wherefore,' he says, 'I - argue he ain't expectin' company to-night, an' me an' Sadler is goin' up - counthry afther archylogy,' he says, 'to be back to-morry.' 'Goodness!' - says the missis, an' she an' the young la-ady went down for the night, an' - me an' Chepa passed it cool an' balmy. This mornin' the missis sent us - ashore for news. But oh, the sights of the ragin' city! Oh, the throuble - an' combustion of it! A crowd of men grabs us at the corner. 'Gintlemen,' - says Chepa, 'respected sehores, 'tis the wickedness of the Jefe,' he says, - 'a-spindin' on gilt furniture the hard-earned taxes of the people, - collected by the tax collector,' he says, 'wid the shweat of his fatness. - For Sehor Kirby,' he says, 'to the great sorrow of himself, havin' run out - of electricity, is unable to buy more on account of the avarice and theft - of the beast of a thief of a Jefe,' he says, and they thought so too. By - and by comes the news of yourself arristed and put in jail. 'Jimmie,' says - Chepa, 'it will not do.' I says 'It will not.' An' we broke away an' went - back to the <i>Violetta</i>. An very interested they were, sor, the missis - an' the young la-ady, askin' questions, an' then a-studyin' an' a-lookin' - at ache other. 'Well,' says the missis, 'I wish Doctor Ulswater hadn't - gone, but it's the Jefe's fault an' not Mr. Kirby's, an' I think you were - quite right, Mr. Chepa,' she says, 'to tell the people so. But of coorse - you could only tell a few,' she says, 'an' I suppose most of thim think - it's Mr. Kirby's to blame, an' I think we ought to stop that,' she says, - 'so I think we'd bet-ther have a lot of bills printed to explain.'—'Hooroar!' - says the young la-ady, jumpin' up and wavin' herself in the atmosphere. - 'I'll write it!' An' wid that she grabs Chepa an' plumps down wid him on - the carpet, an' what wid thim two composin' inflaminous proclamations, an' - me a shmokin' me poipe wid terror in me bosim an' me face smeared over wid - insidjous calm, an' the missis a lookin' off at Portate, wid her knittin' - in her hand and statesmanship an' revolution in her eye, 'twas a - ould-shtyle Fenian meetin', sor, an' down wid the landlords! 'It's hot,' - says Chepa, manin' the proclamation. 'There's no foreign governmint to - rescue Chepa wid diplomacy. They'll hang me,' he says, 'an' 'tis no - matther. Behold me, senora! I am game.' 'You must stay here,' says the - missis. 'Jimmie will have the bills printed and posted.' 'Oh, senora!' - says Chepa, lookin' hurt. 'Of coorse you're not afraid,' she says—an' - I wished she knew that I was—'but it'd be bad for you to be - arristed,' she says, 'an' besides there's another reason.' It lies in the - nature of things, sor, to do what the missis says. There's no help for it. - I came into Portate alone, wid myself, an' gold in me trousers pocket - which I changes to the barbarious paper money of the counthry an' scuttles - off to a printer. 'Set it up!' I says, showin' barbarious money. 'Print - it!' An' he did so, wid the fear of consequences an' the lust of avarice. - But, sor, ye should have seen the amazin' innocence an' wrath of the - populace, a-jumpin' all over the Plaza, a-howlin', a-wavin' proclamations - an' blackguardin' the Mayor for arristin' the lights. Prisintly comes a - line of soldiers wrigglin' through the crowd, an' one of 'em raps me over - the head with the butt of his gun, out of the mistherable shpite of him, - an' they takes me red-handed in the disthribution of proclamations, an' up - we goes, up the steps of the City Hall, before the public was onto the - insult to its liberties. An' oh, the terrible language of the Mayor, - a-kickin' over chairs in the corridor! 'To prisin,' says he, tearin' his - hair tremendjous. 'Ye'll be shot in the mornin',' says he. Then they took - me out the back alley, an' down here sudden, bein' punched in the back wid - the butt ends of the rifles of a misfit soldiery, an' thim's the facts.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVI—THE TRUCE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>O spoke Jimmie - Hagan. We sat looking at each other, and smoking silently for a moment. I - got up and shooed the motley collection of human things around us back to - a pleasanter distance, and sat down again to think. But still I didn't see - altogether what Mrs. Ulswater thought she was going to do with her - insurrection. It was a good idea of hers to keep Chepa aboard the <i>Violetta</i>. - But a mob is like dynamite, and a person ought to have a considerable idea - before he takes it on himself to explode one. A Portate mob is a maniac - that cuts throats in the name of the saints, and forgets what started him, - and he scatters destruction in all directions. For a man said to be - without sand, I thought Hagan had done pretty well. - </p> - <p> - “Sor,” he said, “it's this way. I knew the Mayor long ago, an' Sadler knew - him well, an' I know the Mayor's the same man wid the tempestchus bowels - of him, for he's a nice man when he's cheerful, but he's not a wise man - when there's trouble comin'. Well, sor, Sadler nor the docther ain't here, - an' what one of them doesn't know the other does. An' some men was born to - order and others to take orders, an' I dunno. But, if the Kid was here - things'd be doin'. Well, sor, the docther is filled up wid handy knowledge - more'n a bushel of pertaties wid perta-ties, but when it comes to makin' - up his mind, it's the missis does it. The <i>Violetta</i> carries more - contagious brains than's native in South America, an' you're askin' what - the missis had in mind, an' I dunno. But Chepa says there's only two men - in Por-tate can start them disabled machines for to-night's lightin', to - say nothin' there's not a trolley runnin' in the city this day. An' - where's those two men? One of 'em's here. The other's on the <i>Violetta</i>, - but the Mayor don't know where he is. Well, sor, what can he do? It's not - for me to say, but there's the populace shlingin' stones at the City Hall - this blissid minute in persuasion of the Mayor's wickedness. An' who - persuaded 'em of the Mayor's wickedness? Trolleys they don't so much care - for, but there'll be lights or shootin', an' the Mayor'd needn't be - foolish, an if ye ask me, I'll say it's the missis has got the soople - intilligence, an' no throuble at all. Hark to 'em now!” - </p> - <p> - The roar of the crowd had grown to be tremendous, and they were probably - throwing stones. What, indeed, could the Mayor do? The peons about us were - chattering in excited groups, and the guards at the gate were distinctly - uneasy. If the mob came there, I could make a fair guess what the guards - would do. - </p> - <p> - There was a sudden clatter in the streets, of hoofs and wheels on bad - pavement. Again the great wooden door flew open with a bang. Entered the - paymaster, another agitated official, and an officer in pink and white, - who bowed and smiled at me affectionately. - </p> - <p> - “You are released, senor,” said the officer. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I am! And this gentleman too?” - </p> - <p> - “Impossible, senor. His Excellency is determined. With you, senor, he - requests a friendly interview.” - </p> - <p> - “He won't get it.” - </p> - <p> - “His Excellency is in a carriage at the door.” - </p> - <p> - It was not fifty feet to the open door. His Excellency seemed to have lost - flesh with the excitement and anguish of his mind. - </p> - <p> - “Oo-aa!” came over from the Plaza, that indescribable roar. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, senor!” he cried with enthusiasm. “It is the will of the people that - we be reconciled. Enough. We are reconciled.” - </p> - <p> - “Not yet, Mayor. My red-haired friend here——” - </p> - <p> - “Impossible!” - </p> - <p> - “Not a light, then. Bury it all, Mayor. The wisest plan.” - </p> - <p> - “But the proclamations! Abominable, public, infamous!” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, quite wrong, of course.” - </p> - <p> - “You admit it!” - </p> - <p> - “He must be pardoned.” - </p> - <p> - “To-morrow.” - </p> - <p> - “Now!” - </p> - <p> - “Oo-aa!” from the Plaza, that hair-raising yell. - </p> - <p> - The Mayor shivered. Then he gathered up his dignity with the gracefulness - of a lady picking up her skirts, and finished the game like a fallen but - romantic potentate. “Enough,” he said. “I yield.” - </p> - <p> - We drove to the Plaza, Jimmie Hagan on the carriage-springs behind, the - Mayor and I standing on the seat and holding hands for the public to see - the unlimited affection we had; the paymaster and the officer in pink and - white on the seat facing, waving their hats with unnatural joy, and the - other official on the seat with the driver. - </p> - <p> - But what a sight was the Plaza! What a howling mass of faces, open mouths, - hands gesticulating, all fading and dimly seen at a few hundred feet from - the carriage, for the night was falling fast. - </p> - <p> - “Excellency,” I said, “you owe me thirty thousand dollars. We'll stop at - the bank.” - </p> - <p> - “Just at present, senor, the public's balance is low, but——” - </p> - <p> - “On the contrary—or rather, we'll step in and see.” - </p> - <p> - “To-morrow, senor——” - </p> - <p> - “Excellency,” I said, “I don't care one little bit at all whether it's out - of the city's deposit, or your private account, or whether there's any - difference between them. But there won't be a light till every dollar is - paid. Moreover, this mob is nervous. Moreover, here's the bank.” - </p> - <p> - We got down, and left the pink and white officer in the carriage with the - two other officials. The Mayor stalked grimly ahead of me into the bank, - and the thirty thousand was paid. - </p> - <p> - I made the plant in a carriage in ten minutes. Three scared furnace - tenders were there, in charge of a company of pink soldiers. Among them - they had two dynamos more or less mutilated trying to switch them on with - a pick-axe. At last I got things running, turned on the main switch, and - saw the nearby streets leap into brightness. - </p> - <p> - When Hagan and I came back through the town about eight o'clock, the band - was playing in the Plaza, the people rejoicing among the palm trees, which - were done up in bunting, and the Mayor was making a speech from the - balcony of magistrates to the effect that Portate was a centre of - civilisation, a second Paris. - </p> - <p> - It occurred to me that I was carrying thirty thousand dollars in my - pocket, and wasn't a steel vault. The lights were going anyway for - to-night, and maybe some public functionary's private bandit might be - looking for me. I ought to have deposited before going to the plant, or - perhaps—but there was the <i>Violetta</i>, which would be safer - still. - </p> - <p> - We dodged the Plaza, and went down to the docks. Not a boatman was about. - I untied a row boat, and we rowed out, looking for the <i>Violetta</i>. It - was easy to distinguish her, clean and white, glimmering with bright - port-holes. As we drew near we could see the polished brasses shining - under the stars. The cool sea wind on the bay and the soft lapping of - waves against the boat were pleasant to feel and hear, after the heat and - noise of Portate. The sight of the <i>Violetta</i>, neat and compact, made - me homesick for the temperate zone and my own people of the North, - gray-eyed level-headed people, steady and reasonable. I felt like a - carrier pigeon come home. - </p> - <p> - “<i>Violetta</i>, ahoy!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVII—ON BOARD THE VIOLETTA - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">C</span>APTAIN JANSEN met - us at the gangway. There were some changes in the look of the <i>Violetta</i>'s - deck since last I had seen it, a year and a half before, in the West - Indies. The awning was new. Those geranium pots were gone, which used to - stand along the scuppers, and be carried down every night and whenever the - weather threatened. The world had been too much for them. The same doilies - were on the same rocking chairs. There was the brown mahogany parlour - table. But among objects that recalled home conventions, something that - breathed eastward, a tropic touch here and there, had been admitted. A - huge Burmese tapestry swung from one side of the awning, and the breeze - bayed it in, its green embroidered serpents writhing lazily above an - honest but uninspiring sofa from Grand Rapids. Yellow Chinese mats from - Singapore were on the deck in place of the former flowered carpet. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater sat in her familiar rocking chair, small, thin, quiet, and - slightly precise; and on one of the mats, with her back against Mrs. - Ulswater's chair, sat a girl in a white dress, with dark hair, with very - definite eyebrows and a tilted, provocative nose. In front of her, on - another mat, sat Chepa smoking a cigarette. At some distance off, a - motionless figure in dingy white crouched in the shadow of the cabin, whom - I took to be Ram Nad engaged in abstraction. These were the occupants of - the after-deck. - </p> - <p> - “Kit!” cried Mrs. Ulswater, dropping her knitting. Susannah sprang up and - cried: “Did we beat the Mayor?” - </p> - <p> - I told them about the insurrection, Jimmie Hagan's arrest, and the Mayor's - surrender, and how I wanted Dr. Ulswater to take charge of The Union - Electric's cash. - </p> - <p> - “I'm ever so much obliged for your insurrection, Mrs. Ulswater. As to the - Mayor—well, you've been around the world yourself since I saw you, - and got acquainted with the Gentile. What do you think of him?” - </p> - <p> - “Whom do you mean by the Gentile?” - </p> - <p> - “The alien, the uncanny human who isn't like us. His 'best is like his - worst,' isn't it? in our eyes, because both his best and his worst are - different from ours.” - </p> - <p> - “I like him better than I expected to,” she answered. - </p> - <p> - “Are you going to keep on rearranging him?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not so sure as I was what his arrangement is.” - </p> - <p> - “But the cruise of the <i>Violetta</i> has been a success, hasn't it?” - </p> - <p> - After a moment's thought she said: - </p> - <p> - “When it began, I didn't know what I wanted, but I thought I should know - it when I saw it. And that was the way it turned out. I found out what it - was, when I found it. The doctor and Susannah are most of it.” - </p> - <p> - “It wasn't the missions, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Not exactly. It's partly finding things to do, and doing them as they - come along.” After a pause she said, as if changing the subject: - </p> - <p> - “Do you think you can get on with the Mayor here, after all this?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, that's the question. The Mayor has his virtues, but he doesn't like - insurrections or paying bills. If Providence didn't afflict him with one - or the other of those now and then, he might be a philosopher; but now you - speak of it, I shouldn't say he was a good loser. It's one of the - characteristics of the tropics, to carry grudges long and far.” - </p> - <p> - Susannah was looking at me gravely. - </p> - <p> - “Do you make poetry?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “Not in the way of business,” I said, still thinking of my troubles. “It's - Portate that introduces poetry into business. If I propose to the Mayor to - put in five hundred new lights, he proposes a procession. If I tell him - I'm going to repaint some of the trolley cars, he announces it that night - to the populace from the balcony of magistrates, and the populace comes - and asks me for a free ride, and The Union Electric's employés claim it's - a holiday. You see, Miss Romney——” - </p> - <p> - “Why, I'm Susannah?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh! Well, Susannah—You see, Susannah, Portate furnishes all the - poetry The Union Electric Company will stand. They can't afford to let me - decorate the situation too. That's why I have some doubts about the - ultimatum and the insurrection. They were rather decorative, weren't - they?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm going to make poetry about you,” said Susannah. - </p> - <p> - She got up and walked away across the deck, in the manner of one - conducting powerful operations with the muses. She came to where the dingy - heap of eastern wisdom sat against the cabin wall. - </p> - <p> - “Ram Nad!” we heard her say, with a stamp of the foot, “you go this minute - and get your shawl!” - </p> - <p> - He rose silently, pale and venerable, and went down the companionway. - </p> - <p> - “He catches cold easily,” Mrs. Ulswater explained. “I told him not to sit - out evenings without his shawl.” - </p> - <p> - Chepa and Hagan had gone forward sometime before. Susannah paced the deck - apart with folded arms, making poetry about me. Mrs. Ulswater sat in her - rocking chair, knitting, listening, talking. - </p> - <p> - I was thinking that she would have been a dangerous woman, with all that - will and reserve, if she had not happened to be honest and kind. She could - not help but foresee and devise. I wondered if she were plotting and - planning at the moment, and for whose benefit. Likely it was for mine. I - wondered if the Mayor were plotting and planning for my distress or - destruction at the same moment. Likely he was. I didn't much care. Mrs. - Ulswater had rearranged the tropics here and there, but they had not - rearranged her. It was about eleven o'clock. Susannah was extraordinarily - pretty. As the subject of a ballad by Susannah, of a plot by Mrs. - Ulswater, and another plot by the Mayor, supposing all these things were - going on, I seemed to be in the centre of things. - </p> - <p> - At that moment the sound of oarlocks startled us. We rose and went to the - rail. A boat drew near on the dark water. On the surface of the water the - lights of the distant city made long broken reflections. The boat drew up - at the foot of the gangway, and Dr. Ulswater mounted, followed by a large - powerful man, gray-haired, with a long dangling moustache and lean throat, - carrying on his broad shoulders a large oblong box. Behind them came up - one of the boatman, carrying a trunk. Susannah cried: - </p> - <p> - “What's in the box?” - </p> - <p> - And I said, catching sight of my initials, “Where'd you get my trunk?” - </p> - <p> - “Jansen,” said Dr. Ulswater, “get up steam. We leave as soon as you're - ready.” A moment later we were seated under the awning; Mrs. Ulswater in - her rocking chair knitting and nowise excited; Susannah, her hands clasped - about her knees, back against the rocker, eagerly absorbing all things; - the doctor, the grizzled Sadler and I, each negotiating one of the - doctor's cigars. Chepa, with his cigarette, and Hagan, with his black clay - pipe and extravagant hair, squatted together on the deck. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVIII—HANNAH ATKINS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>E sought you at - your house, Kit,” said Dr. Ulswater; “we sought you also at the - establishment where you generate that mystical fluid which now travels - meekly, invisibly, its slender wires, and now spits like a red-hot cat. - You electrical engineers have your fingers on the pulse of the universe. I - admire in you the representatives of the age. - </p> - <p> - “The condition of affairs in Portate was most mixed and unclassified. No - light anywhere, except here and there a smoky lantern, and such sulphurous - beams as the eye of imagination might detect, or conceive, gleaming from - the bosoms of some thousands of furious citizens. We reached the railway - station with the feeling of having been miraculously rescued. The town, - however, was quieting down. Most of the citizens had gone home to plot - your assassination. Your ultimatum seemed to be everywhere known. - Evidently you were not meaning to be found that night by friend or foe, - and therefore Sadler and I went our way in the interests of archæology. - </p> - <p> - “There is a national museum at the capital of this country, which contains - an extraordinary collection of Inca relics, but is as disorderly as - Portate emotions. Thither we went by the slowest train the ingenuity of - man ever invented, getting what sleep we could, through the night, upon - car seats of mistaken construction, each one of which was a populous - commonwealth of bugs. - </p> - <p> - “Arrived at our destination in the morning, I found my way to the Museum, - and presently was buried from the world, lost to the present. It must have - been near noon when Sadler came and found me surrounded by pottery, - weapons, tools, and the swathed bundles of the mummied dead. - </p> - <p> - “'Doctor,' he said; 'when's your birthday?' - </p> - <p> - “I reflected. - </p> - <p> - “'Bless my soul, it's to-morrow! This thing's got to stop! I'll be older - than an Inca!' - </p> - <p> - “'You're a swaddled infant,' he said. I thought Mrs. Ulswater said it was - to-morrow. I've got a present for you.' - </p> - <p> - “Birthdays, indeed! What had I to do with birthdays, who was reborn into - eternity on the day I married Mrs. Ulswater! I had no use for them. I - wished some one would make me a present of the treasures of that mixed-up - and ruinous museum, and rescue them for archaeology. Carvings! Do you - happen to know that the Inca signs of the Zodiac are practically identical - with the Egyptian, that, moreover, they probably antedate them, that——” - </p> - <p> - “No, we don't,” interrupted Sadler. “It ain't so.” - </p> - <p> - “I can prove it to any man with eyes,” shouted Dr. Ulswater, thumping his - knee. - </p> - <p> - “Which I holds myself,” said Sadler, gloomily, “that any man, with eyes, - can see as them signs of the Zodiac all comes from the jim-jams, and the - first man that made 'em was the first man that had drunk not wisely but - too often.” - </p> - <p> - “Ha!” said Dr. Ulswater. “Why! Now, that's an idea! It really is!” - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “What was the present, and what about - it?” - </p> - <p> - Susannah said, “What's in the box?” and I, - </p> - <p> - “What are you doing with my trunk?” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater wanted to stop there and discuss the origins of the signs of - the Zodiac, and the orderly narrative was getting into a bad condition, - but Sadler took it up. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it was this way, ma'am,” he said. “I left the doctor at the Museum. - Them mummies didn't look to me respectable, but maybe they are, only as - you told me to look after the doctor, I didn't know as I'd ought to leave - him in that there dissipated society. But I went off down the street, and - by and by I see a man I knew, named Sanchez Beteta. He used to be a - graceless young one, son of a poverty-stricken caballero who lived on - Valencia Street in Portate. Beteta was walking stately and soft, and he - had on patent-leather shoes that was pointed like pins, and he had a cane - that was an airy vision, and a buttonhole bouquet, and fixings, and side - whiskers, and clothes that was beautiful to make a bad egg remember its - young dreams, and he come along like his garments was angels' wings. I - says to myself: 'I want to be like that'; and I pokes him in the chest - sudden and solid, and I says, sort of ingratiating: - </p> - <p> - “'Where'd you steal them clothes?' I says in West Coast Spanish. He looked - me over with a haughty eye. Then he says: - </p> - <p> - “'If you're a ghost,' he says, 'I wished you'd fade away. How and why do - you exist, aged one?' and I says: - </p> - <p> - “'Get me a bouquet and a cane. I want some vanity.' - </p> - <p> - “Then we went and got them vanities, and paraded in glory on the - fashionable highway that's called 'The Paseo,' and he told me the origin - of his clothes. They came from his being in the Government, a sort of - Subcommissioner of National Monuments and Memorials, and from that - position's having some pickings of drumsticks while his superiors was busy - with other parts of the chicken. I told him how I'd come there, and how - electricity had played it dark on Portate, and how Dr. Ulswater was at the - Museum sorting out knowledge and wishing he had an Inca mummy for home - consumption. Beteta knew about Portate. It was in the morning paper that's - called 'El Patria.' Then he took to thinking. - </p> - <p> - “'Would the learned senor,' he says, 'pay a price for a royal mummy? He - is, you say, of great wealth.' - </p> - <p> - “I says: 'Why?' - </p> - <p> - “'Because,' he says, 'I may have such an article to dispose of.' - </p> - <p> - “'Which,' I says, 'is a fraud. It's made of mashed paper and it ain't got - no pedigree.' - </p> - <p> - “'Not at all,' he says, 'not at all! I scorn you. Could I, who am but an - amateur, deceive one learned as your friend? It was in this way, simply. - Some years ago an ancient tomb was opened and found to contain mummies of - the family of the Inca, Huayna Capac. Of him you know nothing at all, but - your friend does, and without doubt he knows that most of that family died - during, or after, the Conquest. Without doubt he knows of the tomb I speak - of and its discovery. It was described in the publications of science. Now - the Museum is in my Department of Monuments and Memorials, and somewhat - under my charge, because of my great interest in my country's antiquities. - Also because of this interest I was allowed to acquire one of these relics - for my private collection. But alas! I am unfortunate! Integrity and - poverty go together. It rends my heart. I fear I had better dispose of my - treasure. You will ask, “Why not to the Museum?” Again, alas! Evil tongues - would whisper. I, an official of the Department, sell to the Department! - My own conscience, too delicate, would shrink. But you are hardened, of an - evil mind, a cynic. You don't understand the scruples.' - </p> - <p> - “'Sure,' I says, 'I do. Remorse and me are bosom friends. Come see the - doctor.' - </p> - <p> - “'At present,' he says, 'I have an important engagement. Bring him to my - house at three this afternoon. Number 20, Street of the Museum.' - </p> - <p> - “I went after the doctor then, and asked him would he have a birthday - present, and what was the market price of royal mummies of the family of - Hannah Atkins. 'Who?' says he, and I tried it again. 'Oh!' he says, - 'Huayna Capac!' - </p> - <p> - “'The same,' I says. He stated a likely price, which stumped me some, for - Beteta had only asked about a third of that for his mummy, and I didn't - see Beteta's game. I judged he must be an ignorant amateur on mummies. - </p> - <p> - “We went to lunch, and about three o'clock we come round to Beteta's - house. It stood side up to the side of the Museum, with a little paved - court, or patio, between. You had to go into the patio to get into - Beteta's house, and there was a small door in the Museum that opened on - the patio too. Beteta let us in and showed his mummy in a box on a table, - and it was that roped and done up in coloured cloth you could tell it from - any sort of bundle, only there was a copper placard on it, which appeared - to be antique. - </p> - <p> - “'It has been in the Museum for some days past,' says Beteta, 'because of - comparisons I desired to make with the other plates.' - </p> - <p> - “'Ah!' says the doctor. - </p> - <p> - “'I regret that an important engagement now hurries me,' says Beteta. 'My - house is yours, but if you go back to Portate to-day, the train leaves in - two hours.' - </p> - <p> - “'Oh!' says the doctor. 'To be sure, we must go back.' - </p> - <p> - “'So regrettable! But, without doubt,' says Beteta, 'you will return. My - house is yours. For me, but an amateur, to make acquaintance of a learned - archaeologist, how grateful! You find here materials for packing. My house - is yours. Adios, senores. The public servant is not master of his time. - Adios, senores. My house is yours.' - </p> - <p> - “Then he took his cash and left us, we feeling sort of surprised. - </p> - <p> - “'What's your expert opinion?' says I. - </p> - <p> - “'Why,' says the doctor, putting on his glasses again and looking wise, I - think you and your intimate friend belong to the genus gammon, species - humbug; but his mummy is all right.' - </p> - <p> - “'If it's a sure Hannah Atkins, that's what I'm asking,' I says. 'I guess - Beteta ain't even an amateur on mummies, and he's skeered of conversation - with you. I guess you're right there.' - </p> - <p> - “We packed Hannah Atkins, and toward five o'clock I shouldered the box. - Some populace saw us come from the patio and followed us to the station, - wondering what a caballero, with a cane and a buttonhole bouquet, and a - box four foot long on his shoulder, and a amiable large party in a white - vest behind him, was doing with that there combination of circumstances. - So we caught the train and started for Portate. There was another man I - used to know on the train. He was a Scotch engineer in the employ of The - Transport Company and named Jamison.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIX—MR. JAMISON - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>ADLER paused. I - knew Jamison too. - </p> - <p> - “What was Jamison coming to Por-tate for?” I asked. “Did he say?” - </p> - <p> - “He did,” said Sadler. “His conversation was meaty. I'm makin' a dramatic - pause.” - </p> - <p> - Then he paused some more. - </p> - <p> - “I don't think much of that birthday present!” said Susannah, scornfully. - </p> - <p> - “Then I'll expand your imagination, Susannah,” said Dr. Ulswater. “Huayna - Capac was the great Inca who died in 1527, the year Pizarro landed. Three - of his sons contended for the throne, Huascar, Atahualpa and Manco, but - how many other children he left is nowhere stated, to my knowledge. The - marital system of the royal house, however, being such as it was, it is - probable they were numerous. The mummies discovered some four years ago - were five in number, each with a copper plate sewn to the cerements, and - inscribed, ostensibly by one Padre Geronimo Valdez. Each of the - inscriptions states that the enclosed person was a daughter of Huayna - Capac, who had been baptised and buried by himself, Padre Geronimo. The - date given on this plate is 1543. We have yonder then, in all probability, - all that remains of a daughter of the Incas.” - </p> - <p> - “It isn't expanded at all,” said Susannah, meaning her imagination. - </p> - <p> - “What was her name?” asked Mrs. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - “Curiously,” said Dr. Ulswater, “the inscription doesn't state.” - </p> - <p> - “Her name's Hannah Atkins,” said Sadler. - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “What happened next?” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater continued the narrative. “Mr. Jamison was a Scotch person, - with dusty eyebrows and considerate eyes, his speech compact of caution - and a burr. Sadler told him of our acquisition and inquired about the man - Beteta. - </p> - <p> - “'Because,' I added, 'if the gentleman is no amateur of mummies, why - should he have a mummy in his possession? And if he hadn't any,—if, - in fact, he stole it from the Museum,—why should he risk so much for - the no great sum the mummy is worth, in fact, for the yet smaller sum - which he received? It seems more probable that in some way it must have - been his.' - </p> - <p> - “'I hae doots of it,' said Jamison, drily. - </p> - <p> - “'Does he know anything of archaeology?' - </p> - <p> - “'I hae doots of it.' - </p> - <p> - “'Did he steal it, then?' - </p> - <p> - “'I hae doots it was something resembling that, though maybe no - precisely.' - </p> - <p> - “'For that absurdly small compensation?' “'I hae doots about the size of - it.' - </p> - <p> - “'What for, then?' - </p> - <p> - “'I hae doots ye'll find some pink military at Portate that'll maybe - explain.' - </p> - <p> - “Sadler here burst into spacious laughter. - </p> - <p> - “'We're speeding to our doom, doctor,' he said. 'Ho, ho!' - </p> - <p> - “'I hae doots, said Jamison, 'he may have it,' said Jamison. - </p> - <p> - “'But,' I said, 'that doesn't explain Beteta.' - </p> - <p> - “'I hae doots,' said Jamison, 'he may have an understanding with his - Department.' - </p> - <p> - “'Why,' I said, 'you grow in mystery, Mr. Jamison. You cover the land with - darkness. If the sum he received was too small to explain him by himself, - it is surely too small to explain an arrangement implying a distribution. - Ha!' I exclaimed. Let me consider.' - </p> - <p> - “'Right you are, doctor,' said Sadler. 'You have the idea now. He wan't - anywhere round when we left.' - </p> - <p> - “Certainly, on consideration it seemed to me, that if we were accused of - ourselves extracting her whom Sadler insists on calling Hannah Atkins—feloniously - from the Museum, we would have some difficulty in proving the culprit to - have been Beteta. - </p> - <p> - “'Beteta,' said Jamison, slowly, after a pause, 'has some sma' - penetration. Without knowing much about archaeology, he might consider - that a gentleman with a steam yacht is maybe a man of some substance, that - might pay a bit more for immunity than for a mummy. For the interests of - the Museum, he might consider it proper to attract a strategic - contribution from a foreigner. I hae doots the appropriations for the - Department of Public Monuments and Memorials don't support its offeecials - to their satisfaction. He might arrange the circumstances so that the - circumstances would be suffeecient. He might so put it to persons who - might be suffeeciently authoritative to make it suffeeciently safe. They - might send an authoritative despatch to the Mayor of Portate. I have a bit - of information the facts are no so far from that supposition. No that I'd - care to be an authority for the statement.' - </p> - <p> - “'He's an infernal scoundrel!' I exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - “'It may be so,' said Jamison, 'but he has some sma' penetration. It's my - recollection too that our friend Sadler was in no verra good odour with - the authorities when he left some years ago. Folk said he ran away a wee - bit surrepteetiously, or maybe he'd deny that.' - </p> - <p> - “Sadler again roared with laughter. - </p> - <p> - “'I hae doots Beteta has the penetration to remember that too,' said - Jamison. - </p> - <p> - “'However,' I said. 'Kirby will see us through. - </p> - <p> - “'Aye! Kirby? Is he a friend of yours?' - </p> - <p> - “I told him of my old friendship with Kit. - </p> - <p> - “'Oo! Is it so? But I hae doots Kirby has troubles of his own. I hae doots - it would be better to keep the two troubles apart.' - </p> - <p> - “Here Sadler got up suddenly from his seat, asking of Jamison: - </p> - <p> - “'Say, does Steve Dorcas live where he used to?' - </p> - <p> - “'Aye,' said Jamison. 'He does.' - </p> - <p> - “'Well,' said Sadler, 'it's this way, doctor. Seeing I got you into it, I - guess it's mine to get you out,' and he left the car. I asked who was - Dorcas. - </p> - <p> - “'Oo—he's superintendent of The Transport Company,' said Jamison, - 'but I doot if Sadler will be able to find him the night. His house is - outside of Portate a bit. We pass it on the railroad.' - </p> - <p> - “He paused and looked thoughtfully through the window. The night was - falling. A desolate country indeed, a sandy and rocky desert, is this - coastland, for the most part. I was reflecting that, if Sadler had a plan, - I might as well take what comfort was passing, whatever meat of - conversation on several subjects this shrewd Scotchman might afford. I - started on the subject of South-American archaeology, but Jamison did not - respond. His mind seemed to be elsewhere. At last he said: - </p> - <p> - “'Ye'll maybe make a reasonable compromise, if Dorcas is with you, and I - hae no great doots but he will be, for he was friendly with Sadler once. - And leaving that, I'll no deny I'm going down to Portate myself on a - soommons from Dorcas, but it's no aboot you and your mummy. It's to take - charge of The Union Electric's plant. Whereby, as you're a man, I see, of - no sma' penetration yourself, doctor, ye'll be seeing it's likely Kirby's - no expected to be in a poseetion to run the plant to-morrow night.' “'It - seems to follow, Mr. Jamison,' I said, 'that the Mayor means to arrest him - tomorrow.' - </p> - <p> - “He nodded. - </p> - <p> - “I hae some information he did so this morning, but I opine the Mayor will - be letting him out this night to run the plant, or Portate will be dark - again.' - </p> - <p> - “'On account,' I questioned, 'of there being no train that would get you - to Por-tate before ten?' - </p> - <p> - “'Your penetration is no sma' matter, doctor,' he said. 'It's working - well.' - </p> - <p> - “'It's a wild thing, Mr. Jamison,' I continued, after some thought, 'a - frivolous intelligence, a restless and turbulent member. Its mad quest - after information is always making me trouble. It wants to know now how - you and the Superintendent of The Transport Company happen to be so - willing, not to say eager, to get into collusion with these corrupt and - debt-dodging municipal thieves in Portate, and thereby to spoil Kirby's - most enlivening and pleasant stratagem for collecting a just debt. It - wants to know whether Kirby's being in jail is any personal gratification - to either of you gentlemen.' - </p> - <p> - “He broke into a dry but not unkindly laugh. - </p> - <p> - “'No personal, doctor. Kirby is a good man. Oo—a wee bit hasty and - cocksure, but he's only a lad. But your penetration is doing well. I'm - thinking it might better go on.' - </p> - <p> - “'On your suggestion, it will,' I assented. 'The Transport Company and The - Union Electric are rivals presumably. Presumably, then, the former has no - objection to winning favour with the authorities at the expense of the - latter. Waiving the question of fairness or morality——' - </p> - <p> - “'Aye, better waive 'em,' said Jamison, drily. - </p> - <p> - “'Waiving them entirely,' I said, 'The Transport Company seems to be in - line with prosperity at the present moment.' - </p> - <p> - “Here Sadler came back in the car. - </p> - <p> - “'Engineers and conductors are easy on this road,' he said. 'One dollar - apiece. We'll pull up where the road crosses to Dorcas' place, and - disappoint that there pink military.' - </p> - <p> - “'Verra good,' said Jamison, nodding kindly. 'I'll go with ye, and I'm - thinking we'll be there in a few moments now.' Presently the train slowed - down and stopped. Sadler shouldered Hannah Atkins, and we got out. The - train went on its way. The glimmer of the not distant city showed that the - electric plant was working. To the left some distance stood a large house - among trees, and to it a road ran from the railway crossing. It stood near - the bank of the river, a yellow, stuccoed house with a patio. A man who - met us at the door exclaimed: - </p> - <p> - “'What, Jamison! What, what! Why, why! Sadler! Come in, come in. What's - that box? How d'ye do? Have a cigar! Have a drink. Good Lord!' - </p> - <p> - “He was introduced to me as 'Steve Dorcas.'” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXX—MR. DORCAS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>E was short, - thickset man with a stubby chin whisker, an incessant energy, and an - amazingly choppy manner of speech. - </p> - <p> - “'Just so; just so,' he said when he had heard our circumstances and - needs. 'Drive you around myself. Do it myself.' - </p> - <p> - “Shortly thereafter he was driving us with two small ferocious horses - through the starlit night, over tumultuous roads, circling the city, in - order that—without passing through it, or meeting its expectant pink - militia or gend'armerie—we might get to some point on the bay where - a boat could be obtained to the <i>Violetta</i>. - </p> - <p> - “'I see, I see,' he said. 'You'll have to get away. Get away. Before - daybreak. Beteta. Know him well. Damn rascal. Right, Jamison! Right. - Clever old boy, Jamison. Old boy. I was up City Hall. City Hall. Five - o'clock. Saw Mayor. Saw despatch. No names though. Said Museum was robbed. - Description. No names. How should I know? Too early, though. Beteta ought - to have waited. Seven o'clock. Time enough. Damn fool. Make no great - difference. Maybe not. Humph! Good enough case. Got you short. Eh? Few - thousands. Blackmail. Wouldn't do. Eh? Keep the mummy? Lord, yes. Your - game. Whoa! Here's Kirby's house. See if he's here.' - </p> - <p> - “Singular conversationalist, Mr. Dorcas. His discourse resembled the - precipitous flow and fall of successive bricks. He pulled up before that - house of the picket fence, visited by Sadler and myself the night before. - But all was dark, not a window lit, no one within. - </p> - <p> - “We could see, however, the low buildings, tall stacks, and shining - windows of the electric plant some distance away. Jamison departed for the - plant, saying he would tell Kirby we were there, if Kirby were at the - plant. Dorcas fastened his horses to the picket fence. We sat on the edge - of the porch and held council. - </p> - <p> - “'Kirby in bad hole,' said Dorcas. 'Mayor crazy. No lights. Snuffed out - the city. Cool, but risky. These boys, Lord! What nerve they have! Don' - know. Might have worked, maybe. But that riot. Bad. Irish. Jimmie Hagan. - Red hair. Proclamations. Hot. Printed too. Hagan had 'em. Mayor's - tenderest corns stepped on. Insurrection. Sedition. Mob. File of soldiers. - Dead wall. Bang! Dead Irish. Next, Kirby took the riot. Clubbed the Mayor - with it. What! Collusion with rebellion. Humph! Got his bill. Yes. But the - Mayor's got him. Never forgive. Never!' - </p> - <p> - “'Irish!' said Sadler. 'Proclamations nothing! Irish never got up an - insurrection.' - </p> - <p> - “'Did too,' said Dorcas, diving into his coat. 'Here. Got a copy. See - here!' - </p> - <p> - “'He must have run into Chepa,' said Sadler. 'Chepa used to have sand, and - he's Kirby's foreman, now, ain't he? We heard so. Him and Irish used to be - with each other like a man and his pug dog, and each of 'em thought the - other was the pug dog. That's a proper international relation, ain't it? - Wrath of God!' says Sadler. 'Look here! Chepa never did this by his - lonesome.' - </p> - <p> - “He read aloud the proclamation: - </p> - <p> - “'Citizens, rise! The Mayor tyrant has arrested the electric lights! The - Mayor, betrayer of the people, has put in jail Kirby, friend of the - people! The Mayor thief has stolen the people's taxes to buy gilt - furniture! The Mayor pig eats the people's taxes! Therefore is he fat and - shaped like an egg which within is bad. Kirby, friend of the people, is - desolate because he cannot buy more electricity, because the Mayor sneak - will give him no money which the people gave him! Release Kirby or Down - with the Mayor! Shall Portate be darkened forever? Citizens, are you - slaves? Citizens, be not deceived! Citizens, rise!' - </p> - <p> - “'Chepa nor Irish didn't do that!' said Sadler. - </p> - <p> - “'Peppery, ain't it!' said Dorcas. 'Red hot. Who did it! Don' know. Kirby, - maybe. Don' know! Done for himself now. Sure.' - </p> - <p> - “'Mr. Dorcas,' I said, 'why shouldn't Kirby sail with us to-night?' - </p> - <p> - “'Maybe he won't. Likely not. Here's Jamison.' - </p> - <p> - “Jamison came up deliberately. He said there were some men tending the - furnaces and dynamos who thought either Kirby or Chepa would be back - before midnight. Senor Kirby had said he was going to visit a foreign - vessel in the harbour. They knew no more. - </p> - <p> - “Jamison thought he would go back to the plant, and so said farewell. - </p> - <p> - “'Why, there!' I said; 'He's on the <i>Violetta</i> already. But - undoubtedly there will arise a point of duty, of responsibility. But you - are a responsible man, Mr. Dorcas. You may be playing a game of your own, - but my impression is it will be, on the whole, a decent game. I'm willing - to be convinced it is, however it may look not over friendly. At any rate, - Kirby knows you, if I do not.' - </p> - <p> - “'Knows me!' Dorcas said. 'Knows me! You're right. Point's this: He's done - for himself. <i>Persona non grata</i>. Poison to the Mayor. Spoiled the - Mayor's face. I'll see to property. Cable Union Electric. Send another - man. Tell 'em he did well. All considered. Overdid it some, maybe. Bad - hole. No good here now. Cats and dogs. Fines. Thirty thousand up the spout - again. Damages. Anything. Queer country. Got to play it, you know. Same as - a trout. Better clear out.' - </p> - <p> - “I said, 'But in that case what are we doing here? He'll want to come here - to pack up, and as we leave before daybreak, he'll have no time to spare.' - </p> - <p> - “Dorcas shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “'Better not. Things happening now. City Hall. Pretty likely. Military - here most any time. Despatches to Beteta. Despatches from Beteta. Gunboat - after your boat. Don't know. Point's this: Whose a burglar? I am. Pack up - for him. Why not?' - </p> - <p> - “Sadler said, i don't know Kirby, but I'll take the liberty of busting his - window, if that's all. Looks to me as if one had been busted here - already.' - </p> - <p> - “He put his hand through the broken window pane and unfastened the window, - and we entered, leaving Dorcas with his horses. - </p> - <p> - “Our selections from your apparel and other properties, Kit, I trust - you'll find to have been judicious. - </p> - <p> - “Dorcas drove us to the north side of the bay and routed out the men who - rowed us here. They are, I believe, employés of The Transport Company. - Dorcas refused to come with us. - </p> - <p> - “'Better not,' he said. 'Point's this: tell the Mayor I haven't seen him. - No collusion. Mayor's friend. You tell Kirby. Write me letter. I'll wait - here. Send it back. Power of attorney. Take charge. Responsible. I say so. - Tell him. Goodbye, gentlemen. Glad to've known you. Good-bye.' - </p> - <p> - “Having arrived then,” concluded Dr. Ulswater, “it remains to inquire if - we've done well. If not, the boatmen are waiting, but if we have——” - Here Dr. Ulswater leaned forward, and put his hand on my knee. - </p> - <p> - “My dear boy, I believe I speak for Mrs. Ulswater too. We've been the - round of the world, missing you.” - </p> - <p> - As I thought it over, it seemed to me plain that Dorcas was right. He and - Jamison were very decent sort of men. If Dorcas took the responsibility, - the property would be safer with him than with me, supposing I was in - jail. Could I serve The Union Electric better, under the circumstances, - than by running away, as a sort of scapegoat, carrying off The Union - Electric's ill-odour with the Mayor, along with the thirty thousand? The - Company ought to be satisfied. I didn't like running away. I longed for - another crack at the Mayor. I looked at Mrs. Ulswater, at the doctor, at - Susannah. - </p> - <p> - I supposed Dorcas was right about the ultimatum too, if the doctor had - reported his jerky hints correctly. He had lived in the country almost as - long as I was old, and was clever and wise. I had felt proud of that - ultimatum. It was new and bold and spectacular. But Dorcas had put his - finger on the flaw in it, the injury to the Mayor's prestige, by which - nothing was gained and much was lost. He might have pardoned being held - up, if it could have been done behind the door, though I didn't see how it - could have been done. He might even have pardoned the ultimatum, but there - were Chepa's proclamation, whose blasting rhetoric was Susannah's—Susannah's - genius and Chepa's idiom—and Mrs. Ulswater's insurrection in - general, and my taking advantage of it—why, Dorcas was right there, - at least. The Mayor had a whip-hand now, for the Government would back him - up now with a case for international argument. The riot was bad business. - It looked as if Mrs. Ulswater were not so infallible as the doctor - thought. I wasn't altogether a success either. The Union Electric might or - might not think me all right, but Dorcas was right, and The Transport - Company had won a point over us by having elderly wisdom to manage its - affairs in Portate, instead of a young one whose nerve was longer than his - head. Anyhow, the milk was spilt. - </p> - <p> - “I'll write to Dorcas,” I said, getting up. “I seem to have run through my - usefulness.” While I was writing in the cabin I could hear the chain and - wheel where the crew was hauling in anchor. The hands of the cabin clock - pointed to one o'clock. - </p> - <p> - Had Mrs. Ulswater contracted a habit of <i>coups-d'état?</i> Certainly her - riot didn't look like workings of infallible good sense. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXI—SUSANNAH—END OF THE VOYAGE OF THE VIOLETA - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>F Mrs. Ulswater, - then, had planned her riot in order to make my position in Portate - untenable—as a sort of explosion of blasting powder to loosen me - from South America, it seemed reckless. It was not like her to make a mess - of a man's business in order to please only a notion of hers to have him - in her floating asylum. She had had, as I remembered her, a curious awe of - business. It was implanted in her, I supposed, by Mr. Mink of Ohio. One - would say offhand, of course, that she had meant, by these incendiary - proclamations, merely to frighten the Mayor into releasing me, and had not - seen beyond that. Of course, that might be the case. - </p> - <p> - But when I asked her just what was the extent of her plan, she seemed - reserved, and wanted to talk of settling somewhere in the States again. - She thought Portate a past issue. She wouldn't say whether or not her - conscience was clear about the riot, but she didn't seem to be troubled. - She was figuring about what kind of place would interest Dr. Ulswater to - live in. - </p> - <p> - We were to go first to San Francisco, where the doctor meant to ship - Hannah Atkins to the Eastern museum for which he collected. She asked my - advice about a place to settle in. Doctor Ulswater was fond of unsettled - travelling and might be hard to satisfy. She didn't find my advice of much - use. I judge there were too many rolling waves of moonlit imagination in - it. Something seemed to be lacking, but she wouldn't say what the flaw - was. I suspected she wasn't precisely stating the nature of her aim and - purpose. She began to consult Sadler instead of me, and I took to running - down Hannah Atkins to Dr. Ulswater, so as to induce his eloquence, calling - her obsolete and stolid, or criticising the way she'd been laid out rather - hunched up; and he would pour out South-American archaeology till - everybody took a new interest in life. All you had to do to start him, - like a spring flood in a thirsty land, was to begin something like this: - </p> - <p> - “Of course,” you'd say, “I'm not real well acquainted with mummies, and - I'll take your word Hannah's a good specimen of her kind, only I'd call - her laying out pretty economic and bunchy; and of course she's not in it - with an Egyptian mummy for a minute, but we won't quarrel about that, - though on the outside she's pretty much like a bag of meal, and when - opened up, the difference is all in favour of the bag of meal; but that - isn't the point—-” and so on. Give him an opening, and he'd shed - knowledge like rain off a roof, till you felt glad to be alive. - </p> - <p> - Or else I would go off with Susannah and help her write her poem on me. - That poetry was so candid that it got away from me. It soared off on the - wings of truth, and dealt too much with pure facts. My nose not being - straight, it stated the fact, not brutally, but simply. Any weakness I - had, and there was a rhyme for it, down it went, and if there wasn't a - rhyme, she just planted it in the beginning of the line instead of at the - end. Technical difficulties never balked her of that. There were one - thousand, two hundred and fourteen lines before we got to California. I - wouldn't take a fortune for that poem. It was more than a photograph. It - fitted me like the skin of a snake. But that's not its main value. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “Kit Kirby was an engineer,” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - it began. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ So handsome and so debonair.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - “Handsome!” I said, feeling interested. Susannah took an observation. - </p> - <p> - “Some.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you oughtn't to say 'so' when you mean 'some.'” - </p> - <p> - She scratched out and wrote: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “Some handsome in respect to him.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - But I was new at literary criticism or I wouldn't have made that mistake. - It went on: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “But very crooked in his nose, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And very vain about his clothes!” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - I objected: - </p> - <p> - “Not at all, Susannah! Neat and cleanly!” - </p> - <p> - She corrected: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “And neat and cleanly in his clothes,” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - which shows the value of literary criticism. - </p> - <p> - Then the poem went through with the circumstances of the Portate - Ultimatum, the Hannah Atkins plot, and the sequel of those complications. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “And everything was in a muss, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And so he ran away with us.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - Now, from that point on, it went along something like a diary. It recorded - daily incidents, reflections, comments, the shades and modifications of - Susannah's opinion of me. It was minute, microscopic, and detailed. It - went into unsuspected corners, and hauled things out, and delivered - judgments on them. If the book of the Recording Angel is put together on - that model, it's surely a good model. Perhaps the first sight of the - record and analysis will make a man squirm. But I wouldn't ask for a - better Recording Angel than Susannah, or a judge on the whole more just. - But that is not the main value of the poem to me. It began to strike me in - a new light when I discovered that Susannah had my sins on her conscience. - </p> - <p> - There were entries like these: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - “June fifth. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “The night is dark as it can be, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - The rain is falling on the sea, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And every one of us is gay. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Kit was very good all day. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - “ June tenth. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “ Georgiana Tupper died, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I cried a lot, and then I cried - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Because Kit did not care a fly, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - But said he did, and told a lie,” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - This was a kind of light to stand in, not only searching, but one that - manufactures repentance faster than a man can dispose of the goods. - </p> - <p> - Two things began to dawn on me: first, that, although, as the subject of - Susannah's poem it was natural I should be all around in it, on the other - hand, looking at the poem as a diary, I was more ubiquitous than seemed - reasonable: second, that the diary was getting on my nerves. In fact, - passing time was becoming a sort of running commentary on Susannah. It - dawned upon me that Susannah and I had fallen into the habit of occupying - each other's horizons. Then said to myself, “I'm in for it. It's the way - the world is made.” This was toward the end of June. The <i>Violetta</i> - was in sight of the California coast, and the blue mountains of the Coast - Range were a fringe along the eastern skyline by day. - </p> - <p> - One night I sat with Sadler, looking across the water toward where our - native land lay in the darkness, he twankling on his banjo and I thinking - of the condition of being a running commentary with an occupied horizon. - By and by he began to mutter and grumble into a sort of tune whose joints - didn't fit. On the whole, as a tune, it was an offence to music, and - didn't agree with my idea of what is morally right. But it surely suited - him. He began to sing to it, and the words didn't suit me either. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “When first I kissed Susannah— - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - The facts I state precise— - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - The forty million little stars - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - They winked their little eyes, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - They seemed to say, 'You dassn't'— - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I guessed the same was true,— - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - They seemed to say, 'I reckon things - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Will happen if you do'; - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - When first I kissed Susannah. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “When first I kissed Susannah, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I wondered if I dared; - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I see some little stars go out, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Implying they was scared; - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I see a porpoise lift his head - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And pop his eyes and drool; - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And all the sea lay flat and prayed, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - 'Lord help this poor damn fool!' - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - When first I kissed Susannah. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “When first I kissed Susannah— - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - The facts I state 'em free— - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - She never done a single thing - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - To knock the head off me. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - She melted like a snowflake, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - That's crystal, keen and white, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - That turns a drop of water, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - That glimmers in the night, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - When first I kissed Susannah.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - There was a long silence. - </p> - <p> - “Of course,” I said at last, “I might be mistaken, for though you're some - stiff maybe with ancientness, still you've got weight and experience, and - accident and foreordination ought to be allowed for.” - </p> - <p> - “Sure they ought. You're right, sonny. That there's a good balance of - facts.” - </p> - <p> - “Allowing for all that then, still I'd like to remark that if you kiss - Susannah again, I'll knock the head off you myself.” - </p> - <p> - Sadler twankled on peacefully. - </p> - <p> - “Is them sentiments genuine?” he asked, “Which I wish to inquire if - they're the offspring of wrath.” - </p> - <p> - “They are!” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” he said, “it's this way. Scrapping is roses and raptures to me, - but the facts don't allow it. The facts of that poem ain't in my - experience but yours, which is why I'm weeping to the moon.” - </p> - <p> - “They're not in mine either.” - </p> - <p> - “They <i>ain't!</i> Well, why ain't they?” Then he swore in a slow, - plaintive manner. - </p> - <p> - “They ain't! Well, why ain't they? That's what I want to know.” - </p> - <p> - He went off leaving me reflecting about all the things a man misses. Then - I thought about the way things are linked together, one thing happening - because of another. - </p> - <p> - For if the King of Lua hadn't roused Mrs. Ulswater's wrath so that she had - to carry him off, she wouldn't have carried off Sadler too; and if Sadler - hadn't been a poet, probably Susannah wouldn't have been either; and if - Susannah hadn't begun a poem on me, it wouldn't have turned into a - semipublic diary; and if I hadn't seen her diary, and seen it grow from - day to day, I wouldn't have got into that tumultuous condition. Susannah - saw through me, as if I were a window pane, but the window, through which - I saw into Susannah's secrecy, was her diary. - </p> - <p> - At last I got up and went down into the cabin. Susannah was not there, but - the doctor was reading to Mrs. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - “Mrs. Ulswater,” I said, “is Susannah too young to be kissed; that is, by - me?” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you mean too old?” she asked quietly, without looking up. - </p> - <p> - “No, I mean too young.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Ulswater was silent a moment. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose she is. But not too young for us to make plans.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you have a plan, Mrs. Ulswater?” I asked after a while. - </p> - <p> - “You needn't pretend you didn't know what it was.” - </p> - <p> - “I suspected it when it began to succeed.” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater took off his glasses and pointed them vaguely at me. - </p> - <p> - “As to the date of your suspicions,” he said, “you are an authority, but - as to the date of the success of Mrs. Ulswater's plan, you are in error, - in error. Mrs. Ulswater's plans begin to succeed when she begins to make - them. The beginning of the end is coincident with the beginning of the - beginning. She has an arrangement with destiny. She i——” - </p> - <p> - “Stuff!” said Mrs. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - “Not at all! Not at all!” he cried. “I'll bet Hannah Atkins to a fresh - infant that Mrs. Ulswater laid the lines of your future a year and a half - ago, and started for a predestined Island of Clementina, and collected a - foreordinate orphan whom she had spotted from the description of the late - Mr. Tupper. 'Susannah,' she said to herself, 'will do for Kit. We'll go to - Clementina.' Pundits, prime ministers, and reigning monarchs she picked up - by way—populations rioted as she found convenient—mere - incidental details to a further end. Through helplessly remonstrant - oceans, through a universe undisciplined and disorderly, she pursued the - judicious tenor of her way. Here and there she altered the trend of - history. It was nothing. Missions! Not at all. Her purpose was to make a - match. The feminine mind——” - </p> - <p> - “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXII—ZIONVILLE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N San Francisco - Dr. Ulswater set about despatching Hannah Atkins eastward, and I got into - communication with The Union Electric Company. Sadler disappeared. He went - with Dr. Ulswater to see Hannah Atkins despatched, and then disappeared on - business of his own. - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater wired east: “Goods shipped by S. P. as per letter to follow.” - Two days later he received a telegram from the East: “What's the trouble - with your shipment?” He wired back: “Don't know of any trouble,” and - received this mystic and portentous reply: “Held up at Zionville.” - </p> - <p> - Zionville! Where and what was Zionville? Dr. Ulswater and I were to find - out. How shall one answer the question: “What is Zionville?” We may begin - in this way: - </p> - <p> - A stranger visiting Zionville to-day, if he is one with eyes to see - understanding, will notice that the distinction of the place, in some - singular and subtle way, seems to come together and concentrate on its - cemetery, a noble enclosure with an imposing arched gateway. He will - wonder how and why. - </p> - <p> - If he takes my advice, he will inquire first for Babbitt's Hotel. He will - find there a long veranda with thin green pillars, many cane-backed - chairs, and many occupants of the chairs. Of these occupants let him - inquire for William C. Jones. It may well be that one of the occupants - will be William C. Jones. Let him fall into casual conversation with - William C. Jones. He will find him full of local patriotism, elderly, - cross-eyed, a lawyer by profession, a man of harsh voice, and manner of - speech as indirect as his left eye; of a bleak and barren face, heavy, - morose, shaped like a Bartlett pear, with light eyelashes and no eyebrows; - a man of statesmanlike carriage, with care up on his forehead. Let the - stranger, pointing to the cemetery's tallest monument, at last inquire: - </p> - <p> - “What's that monument for?” Maybe, if he should speak of it as “that - pillar of distress,” or some such equivocal term as might suggest a doubt - whether he liked its architecture, it might be a good plan. Then William - C. Jones will fasten on either side of his questioner a glassy diagonal - stare, and speak something to this general effect, inquiring: - </p> - <p> - —Whether you are a sarcastic and facetious party, or one that has - misspent his youth and means to die sudden and ignorant; and if so, - whether you are inclined to ribaldry, and don't know a real serious - subject from a can of spoiled beans; or are merely a sort of Hottentot - party, disguised in a different and on the whole inferior kind of - homeliness, with features not well assorted, morals depraved, and - intellect omitted; and if so, whether on that account you ought to be - excused for illiteracy respecting that world-renowned monument, or were - not well brought up, and possibly intend better than you talk.—— - </p> - <p> - In that way the subject will be fairly opened. - </p> - <p> - Under the guidance of William C. Jones let the stranger go about, listen, - and observe. He will hear that originally Zionville was the offspring of a - gold mine. He will see that at present she lies in the midst of orchards - and vineyards. Superficially, she is a small and happy city lying between - the flat plain of the Sacramento and the lower foothills of the Sierras. - In reality she is a personage. No origins account for Zionville, and no - appearances define her. - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater is fond of drawing fine distinctions between what he calls - “the phenomenal and noumenal Zionville,” between “the objective and the - subjective Zionville,” between Zionville as she appears to the senses and - “Zionville as such.” This is all more or less beyond me, but I'd go so far - as to admit that “Zionville as such” is a personage without parallel in - the solar system, without example in the Milky Way. How shall I describe - her? She is romantic, and incurably young. She is nonchalant, and yet - interested. She is open, unashamed, and yet impenetrable. - </p> - <p> - When Dr. Ulswater and I first saw her, she appeared to consist of some - hundreds of ramshackle houses thrown down anywhere, a few handsome - residences on the hillsides, a couple of brick blocks, a high school, a - jail, three churches, Babbitt s Hotel, and an outlying Chinatown. There - were no sidewalks then to speak of, except on Main Street. There were some - gas lamps, but nothing electric, and nothing that looked like a cemetery. - Westward lay the plain, eastward the wooded hills and lonely canyons. - Nothing spoke outwardly of Zionville s aspirations, her hopes and dreams. - And yet she stood there in a crisis of her history. - </p> - <p> - It is well established now that there are three great dates in Zionville - history, of which the first marks the discovery of the Eureka Gold Mine, - and the second the Reformation. Opinion agrees that before the Reformation - she was already a personage, but admits that her morals were seedy; that - morals was not a subject to which she gave any great attention. - </p> - <p> - The history of the reform movement is a volume by itself. The subject of - morals once called to her attention, she went at it with her - characteristic ardour and efficiency. Anything labelled “Morality” she was - ready to try. She set her mind on higher things. She became conscious of - her destiny. A new era dawned. She discarded her old name. The name - “Zionville” dates only from the Reformation. Her former name is expunged - from her records. No public-spirited citizen ever mentions it now. - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater and I stepped, then, from the train, and looked about us, and - saw a drowsy, shiftless looking town, loafing, sprawling at the feet of - the hills. We cared nothing for Zionville. We were looking for Hannah - Atkins. We wanted to know what brigand of the Sierras was low-down enough - to hold up a lady of her age, discretion, decent poverty, and illustrious - descent. We asked the station master if he had any news about him - concerning such and such goods, so and so labelled. - </p> - <p> - He was a small man with pale eyes. No sooner had Dr. Ulswater spoken than - his pale eyes glowed with purpose. There was a sudden and mysterious light - in them. It was the reflection of the torch of Zionville. It was our first - glimpse of Zionville's pure flame. - </p> - <p> - He sprang up. He ran past us without speaking, out through the open door, - and sped up the dusty street. We stood alone in the silent, empty station. - The doctor walked to the door, adjusted his glasses, and gazed after. I - followed. - </p> - <p> - “Doctor,” I said, “Hannah's got into trouble. Maybe she stopped off for - breakfast and didn't pay her bills.” - </p> - <p> - He was beyond the reach of jibes, listening, gazing at the phenomena - before him. We both looked. We saw Zionville waking up, shaking her mane, - pealing her eagle eye, girding her loins and unlimbering herself. First - one figure, then another appeared in the hot sunny street; then groups, - throngs, gathered and martialled. The dust rose so thickly as to hide - them, but the distant murmur grew, and now we heard the thump of drums, - the clash of cymbals, the piping of fifes. The brown dust cloud came - rolling down the street toward the station; through it we soon discerned - the approaching procession, men and women and a fringe of clamouring - children. - </p> - <p> - “Mad!” said Dr. Ulswater. “Why, it's a palpably insane community! What do - you conjecture they're after?” I said: - </p> - <p> - “Maybe it's Hannah's pedigree. Maybe it's us.” - </p> - <p> - The dusty procession was upon us. We were seized and thrust into the - middle of it. The tumult, the shouting, and the noise of semi-musical - instruments was so great that if anybody attempted to explain or answer - questions, I didn't make it out. I noticed that the confusion was really - superficial. Nobody seemed to be in command, every one seemed to have a - hand in what was going on—whatever it was—and some common - understood purpose seemed to guide it all. It was an organised miscellany. - Up the the street we went through the dust, drums, cymbals, fifes, and - flags before and after. We turned at last, crowding up the alley where a - large hall used to stand behind Gregson's grocery. Whoever in Zionville - was not in that hall was looking in through the windows. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIII—WILLIAM C. JONES AND LOUISA - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>T the upper end of - the hall was a low platform, on the left side of which sat twelve men on - benches. At the right end of the platform stood that familiar oblong box - that contained the last tabernacle of Hannah Atkins. The covers were off. - There were signs about her of considerable investigation. A table stood in - the centre of the platform and behind it sat a very small man, with a long - silky black beard and very delicate features. - </p> - <p> - Gentlest and suavest of men! He was called “Louisa,” this magistrate. For - if he had, hanging disconsolately in the rear of his history, the family - name of “Bumper,” it was nothing to the point. The sure taste and - discretion of Zionville always refused it. - </p> - <p> - At that time he was Justice of the Peace, and Coroner, and some other - things, and in after days Mayor of Zionville. His voice was sweet, tender, - soothing, a sort of a tenor warble; his manners were beautiful, and - language flowed from him like molasses from a spigot. - </p> - <p> - In front of the platform stood a man of features reminding one of the - Sahara Desert. This was William C. Jones, the Public Prosecutor. - </p> - <p> - Dr. Ulswater was in a condition of wrath. With him a condition of wrath - implied a condition of eloquence. We being hauled up before that soft and - subtle child, Louisa, with Louisa, W. C. Jones, and all Zionville wanting - to know all about Hannah Atkins all at once,—being, in fact, for the - first time face to face with Zionville, that unique phenomenon,—any - kind of behaviour on our part would be likely enough; but on account of - haste, and on account of some punches in the back due to the ardour of the - occasion, Dr. Ulswater had emotions in his head that kept discharging his - hand upwards from his head in a series of explosions, and he started in to - give his opinion of Zionville, and let off opinions in volleys and - artillery playing wonderful. But Louisa flowed over him like molasses over - a hot griddle cake: - </p> - <p> - “Later, sir, later, we shall be happy to discuss with you the foibles of - our society, but what we are interested in now is how this party, in this - here truncated coffin, came to be travelling through Zionville in this - here noncommittal manner; also, as to what may be the names, titles, - pretensions, antecedents, residences, of yourself and friend; also of the - noncommittal party aforesaid; also what may be your connection with that - party. These, sir, are the points on which Zionville desires to be - informed. But perhaps this other gentleman can give us some succinct - statement, some short cut to the information this community is after.” - </p> - <p> - I gave Louisa our names, and told him the party he referred to was a - foreign lady that went by the name of “Hannah Atkins,” at least lately she - been so called though I had reason to believe it was an alias, or a - corruption of her title and pretension. - </p> - <p> - “I thank you, sir,” said Louisa, sweetly. “We progress, and your - statements reasonably agree with the information we already have. And now - possibly Dr. Ulswater will entertain us with some still eloquent but more - pertinent remarks, some exhilarating but not too gruesome anecdotes, - illustrating the immediate causes of this lady's decease.” - </p> - <p> - The doctor took a new start. He made some flourishing archaeological - statements about the Incas and the antiseptic qualities of the Andean - climate, and then he sailed off on the high seas of South-American lore - and his own enthusiasm over Hannah Atkins. But he was still somewhat - flustered and confused. There was a growing tumult round about. I judged - Zionville didn't follow him. Louisa said it wouldn't do, and William C. - Jones rose up gloomy and bleak, and his forefinger started arguing up and - down like a walking beam. He wanted to know: - </p> - <p> - —Whether them hideous words, unaccounted for by any civilised - alphabet, was the names of Mrs. Atkins' ancestors, or of the last heathen - jurymen that had tried him (Dr. Ulswater) for some previous harrowing - crime; and if so, whether remarks made in the Choctaw language on - insurance statistics, such as his (Dr. Ulswater's) remarks appeared to him - (the speaker) to be, were not likely to impress an intelligent jury as - intended to mislead and deceive; and if so, whether he (Dr. Ulswater) - didn't mean,—before justice was summarily executed upon him by the - aroused public spirit of Zionville,—to brush his hair and procure a - set of whiskers less weedy and revolting; and if so, whether he meant to - depose that this here deceased party came by her death naturally or not; - and if so, whether he hadn't no better account to give of his possession - of the same than incoherent statements, which plainly was meant to evade - inquiry with irrelevant excursions into doubtful tradition—— - </p> - <p> - “Doctor,” said Louisa, “I grieve to have misled you. I intended to make - plain the desire of the jury for information, not on the subject of this - lady's remote ancestry, but as to how she came by her death, and why she - was travelling around, not as an authenticated corpse, but as an inorganic - freight, addressed to some more or less mythological institution, some - abstract idea on the other side of the continent. Do I now make myself - clear, sir? Do I understand you to depose her death to have been violent - or natural?” - </p> - <p> - “How the blazes should I know?” cried the doctor, exasperated. - </p> - <p> - “The defendant, gentlemen, deposes that he don't know. The defendant, in - fact, declines to testify on the point.” - </p> - <p> - “She's a mummy!” shouted the doctor. “A mummy! What's the matter with this - maniac of a town? If you don't know what a mummy is, I'm telling you. I - know all about her that anybody knows,” and he went on to tell what he - knew, but William C. Jones bore him down, inquiring with the voice of - calamity: - </p> - <p> - —Whether them figures he (Dr. Ulswater) was giving was the - dimensions of the city of Cuzco, or the age of Mrs. Atkins' parents at the - time of her death, or the geography of the Andes, or the story of Mrs. - Atkins' young romance; and if so, whether he (Dr. Ulswater) was acquainted - with her in youth; and if so, whether she was as yellow at that time or - affected since by a fever of that colour; and if so, inasmuch as his (Dr. - Ulswater's) statements seemed to imply that he was no relative but only an - admirer of Mrs. Atkins, whether his (Dr. Ulswater's) manifestly false and - absurd statement that she was upwards of four hundred years old and her - complexion complicated with considerable paint, wasn't an unchivalrous - statement, that throwed doubts on the genuineness of his (Dr. Ulswater's) - boasted admiration; and if so, and there was any museum in Connecticut - unscrupulous enough for such barbarous inhumanity, and Mrs. Atkins and Dr. - Ulswater ever arrived there—in defeat of justice—whether they - was intended to be exhibited in the same show case; and if so, whether the - promiscuous and opprobrious language he (Dr. Ulswater) was at present - using was by him thought calculated to benefit his case—— - </p> - <p> - “Doctor,” said Louisa, “Zionville is pleased to know you. Under other - circumstances your evanescent humour would delight us beyond measure. But - it is the opinion of the Court you ought to be informed that this is a - moral town. Yes, sir. Not insanity but morality is what's hit us. It's the - moralest town this side the Divide. We've got that reputation with the - sweat of our virtues. There was a time when anybody found in possession of - a corpse might be asked what he was going to do with it, or he might not, - according to idle curiosity or intelligent interest. But times are - changed. We make a point now of asking where he got it; which is, of - course, a sacrifice of perfect courtesy to exacting morals. We admit it. - But, sir, you have projected this here casket loaded with moral dynamite—if - I may so state it—into this here moral community, and yet you claim - not to know 'What the blazes'—if I quote correctly— she died - of. The Court deprecates this distrustful attitude. The Court regards such - reserve as suspicious, incriminating. In response to pertinent and proper - questions you indulge some humorous statements regarding—if I caught - the word—“mummies,” some jocular reference to the venerable - appearance of the deceased—as the Court supposes. The Court has - already inferred deceased was an Injun, and therefore don't care about the - rest of her ancestry. You admit, sir, you know all about her, that you are - in complete possession of the facts so far as known to any one. And yet, - omitting the one pertinent fact, namely the cause and circumstances of her - death, you deliver an uncalled-for lecture on Injun customs. The Court - deprecates this learned frivolity. The Court penetrates your foolish - subterfuge. The Court proposes to inform you of the evidence in its - possession bearing on this case.” - </p> - <p> - Here Louisa took a document from his pocket. - </p> - <p> - “The following letter,” he said, “was received day before yesterday, - addressed 'To The Magistrates of Zionville.' - </p> - <p> - “'<i>Gentlemen</i>:—- - </p> - <p> - “'On the 14th, probably on the afternoon east-bound freight, there will - enter Zionville and endeavour to pass through a suspicious looking box - addressed to some institution in Connecticut that may or may not exist. - The undersigned is not informed. But the undersigned is well informed that - the consignor of said box passes under the name of James Ulswater.” Now, - if on examination of that there box, the Magistrates of Zionville is of - the opinion that this yere “James Ulswater” is a party that oughtn't to be - at large, the undersigned ain't going to dispute that opinion, undersigned - being of the opinion the contents of said box is, or was once, a - respectable middle-aged woman, with some Injun blood in her, and named - Hannah Atkins, as to occasions of whose death it ain't for him to say. - Only he don't take no stock in “James Ulswater's” remarks on the subject. - They don't inspire no respect in his bosom. As to how “James Ulswater” - came into possession of Mrs. Atkins' remains, the undersigned believes - James Ulswater has something up his sleeve that he dassent tell. To what - end then is “James Ulswater” shipping Mrs. Atkins, without sign of - mourning or mortuary symbol, but with stealth, concealment and disrespect, - over the innocent track and guileless freight agencies of the S. P. R. R.? - </p> - <p> - “'Yours truly, - </p> - <p> - “'A Former Citizen of Zionville who Believes in her Destiny and Honours - her Morals.'” - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen,” said Louisa, “do the suspicions of our fellow citizen appear - to you justified?” - </p> - <p> - The jurymen nodded one after another, like a row of tenpins. - </p> - <p> - “Do the prisoner's remarks inspire confidence in your bosoms?” - </p> - <p> - One after another the jurymen shook their heads. - </p> - <p> - “Then the Court directs the sheriff to remove the elderly party calling - himself 'Ulswater,' and his presumable accomplice, the younger party with - the particular necktie and advantageous trousers, calling himself 'Kirby,' - and that the sheriff hold these parties for further action. The Court is - adjourned.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIV—AMBASSADORS FROM ZIONVILLE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T seemed to me I - was getting into the habit of incarceration. I passed from jail to jail. - It was becoming monotonous. - </p> - <p> - But this was a creditable jail, built in the fervour of the Reformation, - with a considerable veranda in front facing on Main Street. In the fervour - of the Reformation it had been, as you might say, a centre of interest in - Zionville. So many citizens got enclosed there during that period for one - reason or another connected with their not understanding the tendency of - events, that this jail always had a peculiar social standing. It was not - like the jails of other communities. It bore no necessary social stigma. - If a citizen was deposited there, it made all the difference, and depended - on the amount of repentance his case was supposed to call for, whether he - was put in a front or a rear cell. Because in a front-windowed cell he - could see Main Street, and maybe talk with friends in the street, or join - in the conversation on the veranda. In this way the Judge and the - condemned of the preceding afternoon might often be arguing in the evening - through a barred window about politics or religion. Hence it always made a - man vexed and low in mind to be put in a rear cell, where he couldn't see - Main Street. - </p> - <p> - Doctor Ulswater and I were put in a cell over the veranda, and through the - barred window we could see the length of Main Street, which ran from the - railway station, at one end of the town, to nothing in particular, as yet, - at the other end. Main Street now runs from the railway to the cemetery, - but at that time it ran off into generalities. - </p> - <p> - Main Street at that moment was full of a crowd which acted as if it all - belonged to one family. I could see Louisa standing on a dry-goods box and - talking confidentially to the family. There was a general session of - Zionville on Main Street. I judged we were the subject of conversation, - along with Hannah Atkins. William C. Jones and two other statesmen were - walking around arm in arm. The whole place was buzzing like a beehive. - </p> - <p> - Then I noticed that Dr. Ulswater was not saying anything. He was looking - over my shoulder through the bars silently, and all anger was gone from - his face. - </p> - <p> - “Kit,” he said, mildly, “this is a town of great interest to archaeology.” - </p> - <p> - I thought it over, and said: - </p> - <p> - “Seems to me it'd be of more interest to Mrs. Ulswater's orphan asylum. - It's too fresh. It's the most youthful-minded place I ever saw. I don't - see any archaeology in it.” - </p> - <p> - “Precisely,” he said. “The youthfulness of Zionville struck me too, and - that not so much because of her crude appearance as because of her - buoyancy. I said to myself, 'Clearly we are home again. This is no Latin - mob of Portate, no explosion of firecrackers, no furious inefficiency. - This is gunpowder in a gun. Here is the organising instinct, the jocular - humour, together with the deadly arrival. We are in the States.' But yet I - was not satisfied with that, and those considerations are not what's - hoisting me now. Cast your eyes back over the late events. Look from this - window on that people in their market place, their forum, their agora. - Recollect how Zionville got herself together. What unity? What esprit de - corps? You recognise it? Ha! No! It's Greek, sir, Greek! It's the civic - clan, the municipal State. So looked the Athenians, so they acted in their - market place. We have arrived not only in the States, but in Zionville. - Now, what is Zionville? A piece of antiquity! Archaeology in flesh and - blood! Pompeii be hanged. This is better than Pompeii. This is a - reversion, an atavism!” - </p> - <p> - I said: “You'd better not deal out suspicious sounding names like those - within hearing of Zionville. She's high-bred and nervous. If you mean - she's a town with a character, I agree. She has more character than a - bucking bronco.” - </p> - <p> - “Mysterious and extraordinary town,” he muttered. “Ha! You're right. - 'Character' is the word. Personality! Personality fascinates me. I haven't - the article myself. I'm a nebulous gas. Hence I thirst for, I cling to, - personality. Most mysterious, most interesting town!” - </p> - <p> - “I don't deny the interest, doctor,” I said, “but it seems to me it's sort - of concentrated around the question whether or not that crowd is going to - take a notion to lynch us. It looks like a crowd that takes notions. Would - an Athenian populace be likely to act that way?” - </p> - <p> - “Precisely,” he cried with enthusiasm. “Look at Socrates!” - </p> - <p> - It seemed to me Zionville had some game going on, but I didn't make out - what the game was. It seemed to me a lynching would be little short of - frivolous. But then the Athenians had acted frivolous about Socrates. - Zionville was surely an unexpected place. But the crowd in Main Street - didn't act like an angry crowd. It acted interested. - </p> - <p> - At this moment the door of our cell opened and Louisa and William C. Jones - walked in. They sat down on a bench without speaking, and there they sat - and seemed to be embarrassed, and William C. Jones' left eye was searching - sideways for the cosine of x, and he began to question: - </p> - <p> - —Whether coming in a spirit of conciliation or to speak last words - of warning or entreaty; and if so— - </p> - <p> - And there he stopped, as if he couldn't quite get his gait. - </p> - <p> - “Maybe you're ambassadors,” I said, “ambassadors from Zionville.” - </p> - <p> - “The very word, sir,” said Louisa, looking pleased. “Ambassadors from - Zionville.” And William C. Jones began again to indicate his doubts: - </p> - <p> - —Whether a certain document received by Magistrates was intended to - further public interests, or private ends, or mixed in motive; and if so, - whether Dr. Ulswater's account of deceased party in question might be - accepted by Magistrates and apologies tendered, according to attitude he - (Dr. Uls-water) might hereafter assume; and if so, whether he (Dr. - Ulswater) would rather the deceased party in question should be - confiscated as incidental to judicial proceedings whose results, although - likely to be fatal to him (Dr. Ulswater) and his accomplice, Zionville - could no more than vainly regret, public interest being of first - importance; and if so, whether Dr. Ulswater would consent to deliver over - Mrs. Atkins peaceably, for a consideration, to the necessities of - Zionville, and thereby win an honourable place in her (Zionville's) - history; and if so, whether he would state his mind on that point without - incommoding the subject with the conquest of Peru, or the natural history - of South America, and thereby would accommodate the Magistrates; and if - so, or whether it would be necessary to return to the Court house in order - to hasten proceedings to the end that he (Dr. Ulswater) and his accomplice - might be hung before the shades of evening softly descended, in the - interests of justice and the destinies of Zionville; and if so, whether he - would accept or decline the said proposition,— - </p> - <p> - “Doctor,” said Louisa, sliding in like syrup. “Allow me to state briefly a - few pertinent facts. Zionville is a moral town. It's the moralest town you - ever saw. But, sir, we see the necessity of getting this atmospheric - morality embodied in substantial institutions. We have already a high - school with an Eastern college graduate at the head. We have three - churches provided with clergymen, not one of whom dares show himself on - the street without a choke collar. And, sir, we have a cemetery; that is, - so far as a fence around it, and an excellent grave, well excavated, goes - toward providing such an institution; which, however, public opinion is - unanimous it don't go far enough. For there was once a time in Zionville - when there'd have been no particular difficulty on this point, but those - days are passed. In those days, when anybody was dead,—as might - happen perhaps by perforation, and airiness in vital parts,—and if - he was worth while, we used to ship him to Sacramento to get a ceremony - ready made; and if he wasn't worth while, we didn't take much notice where - he was planted; and therefore there wasn't any cemetery that anybody could - find if he wanted one. Such were our customs and traditions in those days. - But Zionville reformed. She took up with sackcloth. She sat down to mourn, - and she rose up reformed. 'Morals,' she says, 'shall be my watchword. - Morals,' she says, 'that's me.' Sir, since then there ain't anybody died - in Zionville whatsoever, none whatever at all. But sometime ago there was - a man named Jim Tweedy, who got indented with a chimney falling on him, to - that extent he looked not only dead but disreputable, and you couldn't - have told him from any other miscellaneous débris. And one of our esteemed - citizens, named Pete Chapel, he got officious and jubilant, and went off - by himself, and dug a sepulchre on some land that belonged to him out the - end of Main Street. But was Jim Tweedy dead? Doctor, he was not! But he - played off he was for forty-eight hours, and then he came to, and looks - around the corners of himself, and says, 'Blamed if I ain't all - triangles!' but he wouldn't have a thing to do with that location Pete - Chapel had fixed up for him particular. He rejected it with indignation. - Indeed, he was perhaps not justly to be blamed, though he's never had the - standing in the community he had before, on account of our feeling he was - a man that couldn't be relied on when public interest was concerned, - besides looking discreditable on account of indentations in his surface; - nor it couldn't be denied that Pete Chapel's position was uneasy too, - seeing it was allowed as up to him to provide something for the situation. - So he put up Tweedy's grave for a raffle, and it fetched a good price, - over the value of the land about it, on account of public spirit in the - town. After that it changed hands considerable, the price fluctuating - according to rumours of indispositions, or strangers in town looking - warlike. It went up and down till it got to be a sort of thermometer of - Zionville's condition of depression, or confidence in its destiny. At last - it fell into the hands of William C. Jones, here present, who donated it - to Zionville, and Zionville put a fence around the property and - denominated the same a Cemetery. Such and so far is the history of this - institution. But, sir, we feel that our Cemetery has not as yet attained - its proper standing in our community by formally entering upon its career - of public usefulness. Our morality forbids the thought of too direct - action to that end. It has been suggested that time would remedy this - want. True. But meanwhile Zionville sees its progress stayed, its - development halted. Now, sir, Zionville discerns in Mrs. Atkins an - extraordinary fitness for this purpose. William C. Jones and I have - consulted. We discern a rare opportunity, a crisis in Zionville's history. - We have consulted with our fellow citizens, and they have took to the idea - like a nigger to a watermelon. Our determination is inflexible. A monument - has been ordered from Sacramento. The ceremonies are arranged whereby to - plant Mrs. Atkins, whereby to inaugurate our Cemetery conformable to the - spirit of our citizens. The San Francisco press has been notified to send - representatives. All is prepared. Name your price, sir. It's yours. Name - your conditions. They're granted. The antecedents of Mrs. Atkins are the - most essential elements in her value, and we hope to see them, in your own - eloquent language, indelibly engraven on the monument.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, bless my soul!” said Dr. Ulswater. “What good would a Peruvian mummy - do you? Why don't you bury a buffalo and call it a bishop? What's the - idea?” - </p> - <p> - “Fame,” said Louisa. - </p> - <p> - “Fame? fame? But look here! Mummies belong in museums!” - </p> - <p> - “Very good,” said Louisa. “Ain't a cemetery a museum? Alas, sir! a - collection of various mortality?” - </p> - <p> - “Dear, dear! You'll be the death of me.” - </p> - <p> - “Whether it shall be possible,” began William C. Jones, “to avoid - compassing your decease through obstinacy and public interests, being the - object of this interview; and if so——” - </p> - <p> - “Your honour,” said Dr. Ulswater with a grand gesture. Nobody could beat - him for elegance when he was in trim—“Your honour,” he said, - interrupting W. C. and addressing Louisa, “I beg the privilege of donating - Hannah Atkins to Zionville, and to the service of her fame. To the - interests of archaeology Zionville is more than a legion of mummies.” - </p> - <p> - Louisa ran to the window, thrust his hat through the bars and waved it, - and we heard Zionville break forth in one simultaneous pean. - </p> - <p> - But when Dr. Ulswater and I came out of the jail and joined the rejoicing, - when—as the subject and centre of rejoicing—we came down - opposite Babbitt's Hotel, there we saw, on the veranda of it, Sadler six - feet two, and engaged in sinister meditation against a green pillar. Then - I knew he had written the Letter to the Magistrates. - </p> - <p> - He came down from the veranda to join the rejoicing, and when I claimed to - see into his insidious villainy, he looked depressed; but Dr. Ulswater was - surprised and delighted. - </p> - <p> - “By hookey!” he said,—For since his marriage to Mrs. Ulswater he had - come to swear always by innocuous things, and he was hard put to it - sometimes for satisfaction; hence sometimes his objurgations were - familiar, and sometimes recondite.—“By hookey!” he said, “Sadler, I - knew there was something Zionville reminded me of. It was you!” - </p> - <p> - “I belonged to her,” said Sadler, sadly, walking along with us—“before - she reformed. She wollered in her nakedness then, and we both found out - that sin was monotonous. Since then we've each took a shy at the spiritual - life and found it was sportier'n the other. But still I don't know if her - Sunday School clothes will fit me. But, doctor,” he concluded, “if it - suits you and Mrs. Ulswater to sojourn and abide here, I'll try on them - clothes.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXV—THE END - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N the history of - Zionville the dates of the Discovery of the Eureka Mine, of the - Reformation, and of the Burial of Hannah Atkins, are like 1492 and 1776 in - the history of this country. Whether those foreseeing statesmen, William - C. Jones and Louisa, had reasoned the whole thing out or not, is now the - question. For Sadler claimed that the statesmanship was all his, and that - Louisa and W. C. were trying to jump his claim. He and Louisa and W. C. - Jones used to sit on the veranda of Babbitt's, and argue which of them - ought to be pensioned, and have a bronze statue, and brass band to play - for him at meals. Sadler's argument was that he came down on the heels of - his Letter to the Magistrates, with the whole menu cooked in his own mind. - He saw to it himself that Hannah stopped over. Louisa and W. C. Jones - argued that the menu developed in the cooking, that is, under discussion, - to say nothing of the delicate handling which lay to their credit. - Moreover, they argued that Sadler had mostly in mind the private need that - lay in his nature to get even with the Ulswaters for shanghaiing him off - Lua. That was one of W. C. Jones' strong arguments against him, whereby - there fell a shadow of suspicion on his (Sadler's) purity of motive. He - had wanted to draw Dr. Ulswater to, and get him interested in Zionville, - where he, Sadler, had lived when he was younger, and before he went over - to Asia, and got the gray ashes of Asia on his head. He had a sentiment - for Zionville, as have all who breathe her air. - </p> - <p> - “I used to sit,” he said once, “in that there monastery in Rangoon, in - Burmah, with a yeller robe on, and I'd contemplate the same idea for hours - and days, same as Ram Nad is doing out there in the dust, which I don't - see why Ram Nad can't do his meditating somewhere else besides up against - that hitching post to employ one able-bodied man on detail to see nobody's - horse don't step on him—Here, Bobby Lee! You call your dog off the - prophet, or I'll come around and spank the fattest side of your trousers!—Well, - by and by, what with turning that idea over and over, it'd get smooth and - round like a billiard ball, and by and by I'd get into a condition where - I'd begin to see things running round the ball, like the colours on a soap - bubble, and them visions got mixed up with the daylight. But about once in - three times when I'd got a vision pinned down so I could make it give its - name, it was nothing but Main Street from the station to Babbitt's Hotel. - That was the peculiar thing in the cultivation of my soul's garden. I - guess their wasn't another garden like it in Burmah. When I started after - Nirvana, about once in three I fetched up at Babbitt's.” - </p> - <p> - “Which,” said W. C. Jones, “is a proper sentiment, but it don't prove you - was onto Hannah.” - </p> - <p> - I don't know either just why Ram Nad liked to meditate against the - hitching post in front of Babbitt's. He got into the habit of it when the - Ulswaters, and all theirs, lived at Babbitt's. It was before they built - the big stone house on the hill, from whose porch one could see thirty - miles to where the <i>Violetta</i> lay at anchor in the river. Ram Nad - never got over the habit of the hitching post. He'd sit there placidly in - the dust, with somebody's pony jingling a chain bit over his head, and - somebody's dog investigating the conical basket, whose perils no dog could - ever understand. Zionville was more than used to Ram Nad. He was one of - the assets of the town. He could squat down where he liked, provided it - was conspicuous and handy for pointing out to tourists. He was part of - Zionville's fame—he and his basket and his dingy long beard, dingy - cotton clothes, and brown bony ankles—a sort of public institution. - He ate and slept at Babbitt's, or at the Ulswaters', or anywhere he chose. - As I recollect, in his later years, he wore a Navajo blanket that Sadler - gave him, of a fiery red that burnt a hole in the atmosphere. I recollect - the Chinamen from Chinatown that used to drop around and consult him at - the hitching post, but what about I don't know. He appeared to be an - institution with them too, a sort of high priest or spiritual adviser. - </p> - <p> - So lived Ram Nad in Zionville. So he died in Zionville by a unanimous - agreement with himself. He left off breathing one afternoon, in the - sunlight, by his hitching post, calm and harmonious, in a Navajo blanket. - </p> - <p> - But I was speaking of the burial of Hannah Atkins, and what person, in - truth, ought to have a bronze statue in front of the City Hall, with a - laurel wreath on his head, and one finger pointing toward Hannah's - monument. - </p> - <p> - Of course, any man, of any likely town in the West, advertises his town. - It's the subject of his daily conversation and his nightly dreams, for - it's not merely a casual coincidence of people, but an enterprise that - every inhabitant has stock in. So far Zionville wasn't peculiar. But no - other town would have grasped and gathered in the possibilities of Hannah - Atkins. The question is, Whose genius first foresaw those possibilities? - </p> - <p> - It is some years past now. And yet a tourist on the Overland train now and - then still drops off and asks to see where Hannah Atkins was buried. But - Oh! that great day of the Burial! Reporters came up from San Francisco to - attend, and Dr. Ulswater's oration was a monument in itself. And Oh! the - great days that followed! Zionville became celebrated, suddenly and - superbly, renowned. Fame jumped upon her. It proclaimed her the healthiest - town on earth, not to say the most singular. There was a time—a - short time, we admit—when nearly every newspaper in the land had its - item about Zionville. It was enough. Dr. Uls-water, William C. Jones, - Louisa, Sadler, Ram Nad, all, especially Hannah Atkins, had a period of - limelight fame. Europe and America spoke of Zionville. The world stopped - its business a moment and gave her a cheer. - </p> - <p> - The thing was done. Zionville was as well known as Uneeda Biscuit, and - launched on her career of increase. Her boom was started. - </p> - <p> - As phrases from the Declaration of '76 have entered into the national - language, so phrases from Dr. Ulswater's great speech are embedded in - Zionville usage. “Centripetal point of envious resort,” were words to be - remembered and repeated. “Here we lay,” said Dr. Ulswater, “the - cornerstone of our fame,” and Zionville roared simultaneously! “He means - Hannah!” - </p> - <p> - “Born in purple of an extinct American dynasty,” said Dr. Ulswater, “she, - whom we here deposit, is henceforth become the symbol around which the - affections of this democratic community are gathered, the cynosure of our - pride, the nucleus of our respectful regrets.” - </p> - <p> - The statesmen of Zionville, then, saw and grasped their opportunity,—Zionville's - peculiar gifts, her imaginative reach and supple unity of action being - with them. They demonstrated this fact, this principle, in the floating of - a municipal enterprise, namely, the automatic action of the newspaper - paragraph. - </p> - <p> - Now, no one questions the talents, no one grudges the praise, of Sadler, - of William C. Jones, of Louisa. They foresaw an automatic paragraph in - Hannah Atkins. They developed and put that automatic paragraph in action. - But the question is: What seminal mind first bore this seed? Where lay - that creative spark of genius, of forecasting insight and prophetic - statemanship? Who first conceived the idea? - </p> - <p> - Susannah and I have long been married. We still occupy each other's - horizon. In the same way Dr. Ulswater is apt to see Mrs. Ulswater on the - horizon. She is perhaps a superstition of his. - </p> - <p> - And yet, whenever I hear the Burial debated, and the idea of it traced - through William C. Jones, Louisa, and Sadler, I seem to see, talking with - Sadler in the evening on the deck of the <i>Violetta</i>, a small, thin, - quiet woman, knitting, sewing. Sadler himself does not remember what she - said. Probably her words were few. He remembers that it was there certain - things took shape in his mind. He remembers describing Zionville to her, - and how his sentiments got lively while he did so, and that Mrs. Ulswater - was interested, and little by little he saw it all, clear as a map, before - him. Was Mrs. Uls-water's then the seminal mind? If you ask her, she says - “Fiddlesticks!” If you ask Dr. Ulswater, he says, “Not one imaginable, - remote doubt of it!” - </p> - <p> - I say nothing. Only I see Mrs. Ulswater on the deck of the <i>Violetta</i>, - knitting, sewing. - </p> - <p> - Even so she sits to-day, knitting, or sewing, on the porch of the stone - house on the hillside. Below lies the city of Zionville, busy, booming, - with its trolley line and electric lights, which I put in for The Union - Electric. On the further hillside stands the Sanatarium; built and managed - by the Uls-waters. Mrs. Ulswater sits in her rocking chair, caring nothing - for bronze statues, little known of newspaper paragraphs, knitting the - welfare of her fellow men, sewing, embroidering their destinies, mending - their misfortunes. Forward and back goes the restless thrusting thimble; - the fine needle glitters, is gone, and reappears. - </p> - <p> - So Athens lay below the Acropolis, where stood the bronze statue of - presiding Pallas, leaning on her spear. It was an idle weapon. The main - business of Pallas was to take in glory. Looked at in one way, it was a - foolish business. In Zionville Mrs. Uls-water turns all that over to - Hannah Atkins, to any one who can stand it. Mrs. Ulswater is a deity from - Ohio, and does not care for the parti-coloured bubble of glory. - </p> - <h3> - THE END - </h3> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Cruise of The Violetta, by Arthur Colton - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA *** - -***** This file should be named 50272-h.htm or 50272-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/2/7/50272/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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- The Cruise of the Violetta, by Arthur Colton
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cruise of The Violetta, by Arthur Colton
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-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: The Cruise of The Violetta
-
-Author: Arthur Colton
-
-Release Date: October 21, 2015 [EBook #50272]
-Last Updated: March 12, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by the Internet Archive
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
- <div style="height: 8em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h1>
- THE CRUISE OF THE VIOLETTA
- </h1>
- <h2>
- By Arthur Colton
- </h2>
- <h4>
- New York
- </h4>
- <h4>
- Henry Holt And Company
- </h4>
- <h3>
- 1906
- </h3>
- <p>
- <br /> <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
- <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0001.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
- <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0009.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
- </h5>
- <h3>
- IN MEMORIAM
- </h3>
- <h3>
- C. W. WELLS
- </h3>
- <p>
- <br /> <br />
- </p>
- <h3>
- DEDICATED TO
- </h3>
- <h3>
- HARRY L. PANGBORN and
- </h3>
- <h3>
- GEORGIA W. PANGBORN
- </h3>
- <p>
- <br /> <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- <b>CONTENTS</b>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—DR. ULSWATER </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—MRS. MINK </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—AND THE TWENTY PATRIOTS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV—THE TROPIC AND THE TEMPERATE
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V—FIRST DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S
- NARRATIVE: FIRST ADVENTURE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI—SECOND ADVENTURE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII—THIRD ADVENTURE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII—PROFESSOR SIMPSON AGAIN </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S
- FIRST MANUSCRIPT </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X—SECOND DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S
- NARRATIVE CONTINUES: SUSANNAH </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI—RAM NAD </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII—RAM NAD CONTINUED </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S
- SECOND MANUSCRIPT </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV—DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE
- CONTINUES: THE ISLAND OF LUA </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV—SADLER </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI—AT THE PALACE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII—MRS. ULSWATER TAKES ACTION
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S
- THIRD MANUSCIPT </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX—DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE
- CONTINUES: THE MYSTERY OF GEORGIANA AND DELORES </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX—THE BALLAD OF GEORGIANA AND
- DELORES </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_FOOT"> FOOTNOTES BY JAMES ULSWATER. </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI—SUSANNAH AND RAM NAD </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S
- LAST MANUSCIPT </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII—I RESUME THE NARRATIVE. THE
- PORTATE ULTIMATUM </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV—THE ARREST </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV—MRS. ULSWATER'S INSURRECTION
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI—THE TRUCE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII—ON BOARD THE VIOLETTA </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII—HANNAH ATKINS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX—MR. JAMISON </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX—MR. DORCAS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI—SUSANNAH—END OF THE
- VOYAGE OF THE VIOLETA </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII—ZIONVILLE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII—WILLIAM C. JONES AND LOUISA
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV—AMBASSADORS FROM ZIONVILLE
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV—THE END </a>
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER I—DR. ULSWATER
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N the Fall of the
- year when Krakatoa blew its head off in the East Indies, and sent its dust
- around the world, I fell sick of a fever in the city of Portate, which is
- on the west coast of South America. Portate had the latest brand of
- municipal enterprise and the oldest brand of fever. But they call any kind
- of sickness a fever there, to save trouble, and bury the alien with as
- little trouble as possible. I started for home, and came as far as Nassau,
- which is a town in the Bahamas. There, a wasted and dismal shape, I
- somehow fell into the hands of one Dr. Ulswater, who tended and medicined
- by back into the world of sunlight and other interesting objects.
- </p>
- <p>
- Nassau runs up the side of a bluff and overlooks a blue and dimpled
- harbour. Dr. Ulswater at last began to take me with him, to lie on the
- rocks and watch him search in the harbour shoals for small cuttlefish. He
- used a three-pronged spear to stir them out of their lairs, and a long
- knife to put into their vital points with skilful surgery. They waved and
- slapped their wild blistered arms around his neck and shoulders, while he
- poked placidly into their vitality. So, being entertained and happy, I
- recovered from yellow fever.
- </p>
- <p>
- By that time my handsome name, given by parents who recognised my merits,
- “Christopher Kirby,” had come down handily in Dr. Ulswater's usage to
- “Kit,” and we loved each other as two men can who are to each other a
- perpetual entertainment.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater was a large, bushy man in the prime of a varied life. Born an
- American, he had studied in German universities, practised medicine in
- Italy, and afterward in Ceylon. One of his hobbies was South-American
- archaeology. He owned a silver mine in Nevada, and kept a sort of
- residence in New York at this time, and was collecting specimens for a New
- England museum. So that he was what you might call a distributed man, for
- he had been in most countries of the globe; yet he was not a
- “globe-trotter,” but rather a floater,—in a manner resembling
- sea-weed, that drifts from place to place, but, wherever it drifts or
- clings, is tranquil and accommodating. He seemed to me suitable to the
- tropics and their seas,—large, easy, and warm of body; his learning
- like the sea, mysterious and bottomless; his mind luxuriously fertile, but
- somewhat ungoverned. His idioms were mixed, his conversations opalescent;
- his criticism of himself was that he had not personality enough.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, my dear,” he said, wrapping a dead cuttlefish up neatly in its own
- arms, “I am like a cuttlefish whose vital point is loose. You are an
- ignorant person, with prepossessions beyond belief, and absurd deferences
- for clothing and cleanliness; but you have personality and entertaining
- virtues. Therefore I will let you smoke two cigars to-night instead of
- one, and to-morrow maybe three, for your sickness is becoming an
- hypocrisy.” Then we went over the rocks to our boat and the sulky sleepy
- negro boatman, the doctor with his flabby bundled cuttlefish, and I with a
- basket full of coral and conch-shells. The boatman rowed us out over a sea
- garden with submerged coral grottos; pink and white coral, branching and
- the “brain” coral, sea-fans and purple sea-feathers, coral shrubs, coral
- in shelving masses; also sponges, and green hanging moss, and yellow,
- emerald, and scarlet fish, silver, satin, ringed, fringed, spotted;—all
- deep beneath in their liquid, deluding atmosphere,—a cold vision,
- outlandish, brilliant, and grotesque, over which we floated and looked
- down.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hypocrisy, pretence, illusion!” went on Dr. Ulswater. “Yet we attach to
- these words a meaning of praise or condemnation which begs the question.
- The personality is all, the point of view. To observe an alcyonoid polyp
- through thirty feet of water, an ineffable vision! or under a microscope
- which pronounces the ineffable vision hypocrisy, pretence, illusion!—in
- which is there more truth? Is not my hypocrisy an intimate truth of me?
- Hanged if I know! There is a new yacht in the harbour. We will go to it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And we moved across the calm glassy harbour toward the long white steam
- yacht.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a handsome sea-going vessel. Its brasses glistened in the afternoon
- sunlight. <i>Violetta</i> was its gilt-lettered name. Sailors were busy
- forward, and a striped awning was over the after-deck. As we drew near, a
- woman stood up under the awning and came over to the rail; she had some
- knitting in her hands. I asked if we might come aboard, and the doctor
- grumbled at me in disgust,—something about “frizzle-brained women.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course you can,” she said, decisively. “Wait till they bring the
- steps,” and she disappeared.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ha!” he said, “steps! And a Middle West accent! Very good.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We went aboard, leaving the negro in his boat, and under the striped
- awning made the acquaintance of Mrs. Mink and a stout, blond-bearded
- sailing-master, Captain Jansen.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER II—MRS. MINK
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>RS. MINK was a
- pleasant looking woman, though somewhat thin, and with sharp gray eyes.
- She wore a plain, neat black dress, such as a self-respecting woman might
- wear to church in some small inland city. A large flowered rug covered the
- deck, a round mahogany table in the middle of it. There were a hammock and
- a number of upholstered chairs, each with a doily on the back of it. A
- work-basket stood on the table, brimming with sewing materials. A white
- crocheted shawl hung on the back of a chair, a red paper lampshade over
- the electric bulb.
- </p>
- <p>
- The scene wakened sleeping associations of mine. Just such a shawl my
- maiden aunts wore in Connecticut, just such doilies were on their rocking
- chairs, just such flowered carpets were in their parlours. They dressed
- like Mrs. Mink too, but, to the best of my recollection, were not so
- agreeable to look at.
- </p>
- <p>
- That weird glistening sea garden of coral and purple feathers and
- improbable fish was fresh in my mind, with Dr. Ulswater's talk, both
- undomestic, paradoxical, and showing coloured objects slumberously afloat
- in a transparent and deluding element. The wide blue harbour; the steep
- white town buried in tropical foliage; the big spruce yacht, too; the
- yellow-bearded Swede Jansen, and the crew in flat caps and jumpers—all
- these belonged to the world as I had known it of later years. With the
- line of the awning came the abrupt change; there ruled the flowered
- carpet, the centre table, the doilies, the provincial feminine touch, the
- tradition and influence of a million parlours and “sitting rooms” of the
- States. One missed the wall paper, and mantelpiece, the insipid and
- carefully framed print, and the black stove; but Mrs. Mink seemed to have
- made herself at home, so far as she was able, and the effect was homelike.
- </p>
- <p>
- All this while Mrs. Mink looked critical, and Dr. Ulswater was introducing
- himself and me, and presently I became aware that Mrs. Mink was telling
- Dr. Ulswater her story.
- </p>
- <p>
- It appeared that she came from the small city of Potterville, Ohio, whose
- aspect might be inferred and pictured—a half-dozen brick business
- blocks, a railway station, a dozen churches, dusty streets, board
- sidewalks, maples for shade trees—mainly young and not too healthy—clapboarded
- frame houses with narrow piazzas, a thin, monotonous current of social
- talk, a limited and local existence.
- </p>
- <p>
- Until the year before, the fortunes of Mrs. Mink had hardly led her beyond
- the borders of the State, nor away from Potterville for more than a few
- days.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Mink, a silent, plodding man—as I gathered—a banker,
- counted a well-to-do citizen, but not suspected of unusual wealth, had
- died the year before, of a natural and normal sickness. There must have
- been a secretive element in him, something now forever unexplained. He had
- sat at his desk in his bank. Away from the bank he had never alluded to
- business. He had not liked any habits to be altered. No one in
- Potterville, not even the bank cashier, certainly not Mrs. Mink, suspected
- that Potterville harboured a millionaire. But when Mrs. Mink found herself
- a widow of extensive and varied wealth, she set herself to consider the
- situation. So far the story was partly inferential. Mrs. Mink spoke with
- some reserve.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the size of her income was explained to her by her lawyer, who was
- also her neighbour, she cried, in some alarm, “What <i>shall</i> I do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He said: “Get a steam yacht. Go into high society, and found a college.
- Spend it on the heathen. Make your name immortal in Potterville.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But,” said Mrs. Mink, narratively, “I thought those were too many
- different things. But when I was little I often wished I could see the
- equator, and now I rather wanted to see the heathen, and the idols that
- have pictures in Sunday-school quarterlies. The more I thought of parrots
- and monkeys and bananas and Foreign Missions, the more I knew what I ought
- to do first. Because I knew more about Foreign Missions than about
- colleges, and I thought tropical countries would be nicer than high
- society.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Admirable!” cried Dr. Ulswater, suddenly. “What logic! For subtle
- inference and accurate reasoning, look at that!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink looked surprised.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I felt sure that it would be better to be comfortable while I was
- examining the missions, so I went to the lawyer, and he sent me to some
- people who made ships. After that everything was plain.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Plain!” cried Dr. Ulswater. “It's a syllogism.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The ship-dealer was very kind,” said Mrs. Mink, reflecting. “He got the
- <i>Violetta</i> and Captain Jansen. It has been quite pleasant so far. But——”
- She hesitated.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But you haven't yet seen what you seek for,” said Dr. Ulswater. “You have
- taken but a step into the imperium of the tropics. You have far to go. I
- have been on the road these twenty years. Imprimis, I will show you the
- model upon which the heathen idol is constructed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He brought up the cuttlefish from the boat and unbundled it. Mrs. Mink
- thought it was somewhat uglier than any pictures of heathen idols.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The faith of the savage is based upon fear in the midst of wonder,” said
- Dr. Ulswater. “This is an incarnate terror and obscure nightmare seen
- moving through ineffable sea gardens. Behold the seed of religions. You
- are wise, madam, in desiring to see and to hear, to know the miracle of
- the world. Everywhere two miracles confront each other, the visible world
- and the soul of man beholding it, but custom and usage are blinding; that
- is to say, the more you get used to a thing, the more you don't see it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The soul of the heathen,” continued Dr. Ulswater, musing, “and that of
- the missionary are both remarkable.” Mrs. Mink looked suspicious; but he
- continued, musing: “There is, at this moment, an insurrection in Haiti, a
- bad-tempered mountain blowing up in Peru, and ten thousand miles from
- there a large brown idol, that I know well, sitting in the woods in
- Ceylon, with green jade eyes and silver finger-nails. And they're all
- turned over once a day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Something about Mrs. Mink, self-contained, quiet, and decisive, looking at
- him with shrewd, unbewildered eyes, seemed to rouse him to conversation;
- or else he had an object in being entertaining. Captain Jansen and two or
- three blue-capped sailors were near, and stood at the corner of the cabin
- listening, while he talked on, talked immensely, talked gloriously, talked
- like the power of Niagara, until the tide ran out and the sun set, and
- Mrs. Mink said, “Now you'll stay to tea,” so decisively that we stayed to
- tea.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the cabin were green curtains and pink lamp-shade, wall paper and
- framed prints, a radiator, biscuits, cake, preserves, a red-haired Irish
- servant-girl named Norah, and Mrs. Mink at home. She was thoughtful.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you <i>have</i> to collect cuttlefish?” she asked at last.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I? No. I do what I like. Why?” Dr. Ulswater's innocence of manner was
- perhaps too elaborate. “My curly-haired young friend must not go back to
- his job for some weeks in South America, for he is not yet a grizzly-bear.
- He is languid, like a jelly-fish.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I shouldn't dare ask any one away from business. But I have some
- spare rooms, and I would be pleased if you and Mr. Kirby would visit me.
- It would be a great help, if you aren't too busy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We are your grateful guests,” said Dr. Ulswater, elaborately.
- </p>
- <p>
- When we came to go, the sulky negro and his boat had disappeared. Captain
- Jansen offered to take us ashore. Dr. Ulswater bundled up his cuttlefish.
- Mrs. Mink said, “He's dreadfully untidy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Admirable!” cried Dr. Ulswater again. “It's a select word, a creative
- description! He's a regular litter. His very vital point is loose.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We slid away in the starlight.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What personality!” muttered Dr. Ulswater. “What point of view! Untidy!
- The very word! She buys a steam yacht, furnishes it in the style of
- Potterville, Ohio, and starts off to examine Foreign Missions. Why, sure!
- That's easy!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Captain Jansen chuckled: “I see men try sheet her more'n once, but they
- don't. She have a head.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Untidy!” muttered Dr. Ulswater. “Untidy!”—as if he foreboded
- trouble in that word.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER III—AND THE TWENTY PATRIOTS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>E left Nassau the
- following morning. On the third day we passed the Inaguas and sighted
- Tortuga. They were days rich with the tropical outpourings of Dr.
- Ulswater, into whose warm Gulf Stream of conversation Mrs. Mink now and
- then dropped cool comments and punctuations that excited his luxuriant
- praise. What Mrs. Mink thought of Dr. Ulswater was not so clear.
- </p>
- <p>
- The green cliffs of Haiti overhung a white surf, and the lapping mouths of
- half-submerged caves below; above was the tangle of the forest, great
- pendant leaves, sweeping and coiling creepers. It was the hot morning of
- the fourth day. There was a thin, shining mist about, and Dr. Ulswater
- quoted:
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “... soft and purple mist
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Like a vaporous amethyst,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- ... red and golden vines
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Piercing with their trellised lines
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- The rough dark-skirted wilderness.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- “Vaporous amethyst!” he murmured, sentimentally. “Gaseous spirit of jewel!
- Ah, Mrs. Mink! Lyric poetry, is it not a religion?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink shook her head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You see a distinction. You are right. You would say, in the worship of
- beauty the ethical element is too subsidiary. You would point out the lack
- of rigidity and purpose.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink did not commit herself. We watched the smoke of a steamer coming
- toward us from the east.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I see the deep's untrampled floor!” murmured Dr. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- The steamer, a dilapidated side-wheeler, drew nearer, and a small cannon
- was plainly to be seen in the prow, but the only men in sight were a negro
- at the wheel and another walking the bridge. As they came within hailing,
- the cannon went off suddenly, the ball boomed overhead, and struck, spat!
- against the cliff, and on the deck a crowd of negroes sprang up and fell
- to dancing, howling, waving their guns. Mrs. Mink said, “For goodness'
- sake!” while Dr. Ulswater and I went to join Captain Jansen.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yas,” he said, “I didn't know. If I know, I got avay.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Three boat-loads of negroes were coming to board us. In the prow of the
- first was one tall and thin, with a gold-laced regimental coat, a
- tasselled sword, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and the dignity of a commodore.
- They drew under the side, and Dr. Ulswater and this Commodore talked
- Haitian French.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then they scrambled aboard, marched aft in an orderly manner, squatted on
- the deck against the rail at the edge of the flowered carpet. Most of them
- grinned sociably and chattered to each other. The crew of the <i>Violetta</i>
- remained forward discussing them. Dr. Ulswater, the Commodore, Captain
- Jansen, and I sat down under the awning in the upholstered chairs,
- together with Mrs. Mink. Dr. Ulswater explained, cheerfully:
- </p>
- <p>
- “He says he's an insurrection. He admits that we're not the enemy, but
- says he's got to have the <i>Violetta</i> in order to triumph over the
- tyrant of Haiti. When he has triumphed we will be rewarded,—meaning
- he'll be in a position to pay damages. He thinks our consciences will
- reward us, too. He thinks that's a strong point,—maybe stronger than
- the other. He has only that one war-ship, and he needs another in order to
- attack the navies of the tyrant. If you ask whether he's innocent or
- clever, why, I give it up, but I guess he's superlatively one of them. He
- appears to be calm.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you mean he wants me to give him the <i>Violetta?</i>” asked Mrs.
- Mink, sharply.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Something resembling that, and it's not so unnatural,”—Dr. Ulswater
- waved his hand balmily,—“you know, from his point of view——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nonsense! I sha'n't do anything of the kind!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But—well—I gather his innocence is such that he might get up
- and take it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'd like to see him! Who is he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was sharp-voiced, alert, and keen. Dr. Ulswater seemed bewildered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, but I gather he's a sort of patriotic pirate,—piratical so far
- that it might not do to irritate him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink softened a degree: “Is he patriotic?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My experience in this neighbourhood,” said the doctor, “has been that
- patriotic leaders, who are down on the tyrant, are generally looking for
- his job. But now, as they appear to be some two or three to one of us, and
- armed, and, technically speaking, to have the drop on us,—why,
- there's a West-Indian proverb to the effect that 'A spider and a fly don't
- bargain,' but I would suggest something diplomatic, something perhaps a
- little yielding. Something of that kind.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Commodore all this while sat stiffly upright, with one hand on the
- hilt of his tasselled sword and no expression on his face, glaring away
- from us across the sea. It seemed to me that his bearing couldn't be
- natural to a being with human weaknesses, and that it went beyond the real
- requirements of his uniform. I judged he had gotten it off an equestrian
- statue.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater began to talk with him again. Of the military, on the edge of
- the flowered carpet, some looked genial, some murderous—most of them
- genially murderous. Captain Jansen pulled his beard and looked meekly at
- Mrs. Mink, and Mrs. Mink examined the Commodore critically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He says,” resumed Dr. Ulswater, “that it's a military crisis, and he must
- have another war-ship or go under. When he has conquered the ships of the
- tyrant, he will reward us. His remarks, like his manner, are a bit
- monotonous, but I gather he's nearly, what you might call, on his last
- legs. He rather intends to put us all ashore.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A—certainly! You think———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater subsided.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ask them if they don't want some coffee. Ask how many are left in the
- other ship. They can have some too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater reported that they did; that there were five on the war-ship;
- that the Commodore was gratified to find madam accepted the necessity
- amiably.
- </p>
- <p>
- The crew and all of us hurried under Mrs. Mink's orders. She collected
- cups and glasses. She called for three kettles of boiling water to the
- cabin, and closed the door. There were six of us, including Captain Jansen
- and the Irish girl, Norah.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, Dr. Ulswater, you must help. Listen! You must put them to sleep.”
- </p>
- <h3>
- “A——
- </h3>
- <p>
- “<i>Listen!</i> These two kettles will hold about thirty cups. Don't give
- them too much. See that they all drink it at the same time. Send a pot to
- the other ship. When they're all asleep, put them ashore. Now don't tell
- me you can't, or you haven't anything to do it with, because you <i>must!</i>
- I won't stand it! The idea of giving up the <i>Violetta</i> to be shot at!
- How do I know what would happen to it? This pot we'll keep for ourselves,
- and pour into the blue cups. <i>Hush!</i> Don't talk to me! Ask them to
- drink a health or something to something or other, so they'll go to sleep
- together. Give up the <i>Violetta!</i> That silly, conceited thing sitting
- up there like a barber's pole and asking me that!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You want some knock-out drops!” gasped Dr. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Hush!</i> Laudanum, laughing-gas! You know. Hurry!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater gazed at her with speechless admiration, took the two
- kettles, and disappeared in the passageway toward his cabin.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Captain Jansen, you'll take this gray pot to the other ship, and only one
- man with you, so they won't suspect; as soon as they're asleep you better
- tie them up and come back. Put the trays on the table, Mr. Kirby, and the
- cups and things on the trays. Keep the blue cups together. Do you know if
- they like sugar?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater returned.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now take the gray pot, Captain Jansen. We won't serve here till you get
- there. Norah, pour them fuller. Dr. Ulswater, you must go out and explain.
- Tell them it will be ready in a few moments.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater opened the door and went out, muttering, “Wonderful!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Commodore sat as before, holding his sword-hilt. The military sat
- between the rail and the edge of the carpet. Dr. Ulswater made a speech,
- which appeared to please them. Captain Jansen and one of the crew rowed
- away in the boat, the captain nursing the gray pot and the tea tray on his
- knee.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink filled cups, glasses, and tins.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I hope it will make that barber's pole sick. There! Captain Jansen has
- gone up, Dr. Ulswater! Tell them about taking it all together. Tell them
- to wait till we're ready. Mr. Kirby, you're spilling. Take care of the
- blue cups, and let the men pass the other trays. You two go to the right,
- you two to the left, you to the other end. Now we're ready.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Norah was pallid. The twenty patriots took their cups in hand and waited
- with wide, grinning mouths. Dr. Ulswater lifted his coffee-cup.
- </p>
- <p>
- “À la Patrie!” he cried. “La Révolution! Ça ira! Let her go!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They haven't all emptied their cups, Dr. Ulswater!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Encore!” thundered the doctor. “La Révolution! Videz toutes! Bottoms up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Goodness!” cried Mrs. Mink. “How they look!” and ran into the cabin,
- followed by Norah, shrieking.
- </p>
- <p>
- Under the spell of Dr. Ulswater's powerful drops the twenty negroes
- stared, grunted, fell back, twitching, kicking, astonished, breathing in
- snorts. Glass and china crashed on the deck. One of them staggered up with
- a yell and dropped again. One rolled half across the flowered carpet. The
- Commodore struggled for an instant with his tasselled sword, and subsided,
- muttering. The long rows of limp and ragged men, of black faces and open
- mouths, were ghastly and still. A gun was discharged on the war-ship.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink from the cabin.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater turned about, beaming at me. “A remarkable opiate, that, Kit!
- I always said so,” and pulled out his notebook, and made notes, aloud: “On
- two of the subjects evidently painful in action—ten to twenty
- seconds—per man three grains—muscular contractions, followed
- by total relaxation and coma—in case observed dissolved in solution
- of coffee—Remarkable!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink again.
- </p>
- <p>
- Captain Jansen, with his man, came back and reported that his cases had
- been disorderly. One of them had discharged his gun and fallen down the
- gangway.
- </p>
- <p>
- We carried them, one by one, to the boats and tugged back and forth across
- a hot and heaving stretch of water, till they were all landed. Some of
- them were stirring and made a noise.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the last boat-load was gone, Dr. Ulswater and I came back under the
- awning. Norah was washing dishes in the cabin, Mrs. Mink sweeping the deck
- with a broom. The guns lay along the scuppers. She stopped, and lifted a
- troubled face to Dr. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Will it do them any harm?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater seemed subdued: “It will make them sick at the stomach. A—a
- moral lesson.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I should think as much!” she said, sweeping vigorously. “That impudent
- barber! Did he want to be President?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I understood he had ambitions.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She hesitated again: “Do you think the revolution ought to succeed, if
- their government is very bad? Or would it be better to stop it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater gasped again, but recovered himself, and brought his mind
- back to gravity and consideration: “My observation has been that, though
- tropical governments are sometimes objectionable, these frequent violences
- seldom improve them, and create distress. I think it is generally more
- benevolent to back the existing state of things.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh! Then I think Captain Jansen had better tie something to the other
- ship, so that we can pull it after us and give it to the other people.
- Anyway,” she ended, sharply, “I'm sure that conceited thing would make a
- bad President.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was high noon when we steered away for Cape Haitien, towing the
- war-ship. On shore two or three revolutionists were climbing a gully in
- the cliffs. Others were sousing their heads in the surf. More of them
- seemed to be still sick or drowsy. Mrs. Mink went to take a nap. Dr.
- Ulswater and I leaned against the rail. Captain Jansen edged toward us.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My, my!” he said. He rubbed his beard a moment, shook his head
- thoughtfully, and went forward.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater pressed his handkerchief to his wet forehead. The heat was
- great.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Kit,” he said, solemnly, “this is a discovery. Personality to burn.
- Captured by desperate insurrectionists, she demands knock-out drops. She
- puts them to sleep with a coffee-pot, and bundles them ashore. And why
- not? She balances the issue of a people, tows off a war-ship, and
- squelches revolution. Why not? And yet, what a phenomenon of intrepid
- reason! What a woman!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IV—THE TROPIC AND THE TEMPERATE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN a chicken
- drinks,” said Dr. Ulswater, “he lifts his head and thanks God, but when a
- man drinks he doesn't say anything. That is a West-Indian proverb.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I said: “It's a good proverb.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” he went on, “I should say it was, with the chicken, possibly, so
- to speak, a somewhat mechanical ritual.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We were nearing the end of our cruise. I never wanted less to go back to
- Portate, but my health was too boisterously good to be denied. It was
- toward the end of November. In the land of steadfast people, the frost
- would be on the grass, the wind in the yellow corn-shocks, the good folk
- gathering to their annual feast of gratitude, far from these lazy seas.
- Old women with white hair and knitting, old men walking with canes,
- pink-cheeked girls and big-handed men, children storming the banisters—they
- would all be there.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What will you do on Thanksgiving day?” I asked, thinking of the cool
- cornfields and familiar faces, of farm-yards and houses where chickens
- used to drink in prayerful attitudes, where men also thanked God when they
- drank, or ate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have left it to Mrs. Mink. She is considering it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She is considering me. It amounts to the same thing. Her decision, I
- should say, would determine my attitude on the question of gratitude.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have requested her to consider me matrimonially,” he said. “I fear she
- is considering me in the light of Foreign Missions.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have presented to Mrs. Mink,” he continued, “as bearing on the point,
- one of the clearest analogical arguments you ever saw. It is as follows:
- The business of the tropic and temperate zones is to entertain and
- supplement each other. They trade experiences—as they trade crude
- rubber for sewing machines—to the profit of both parties. Put them
- together and there arises in the mind of each a sense of romantic
- surprise. Providence has supplied the need of man for permanent
- astonishment by a trifling gradation of heat, so that when either shall
- feel the need for something miraculous and incongruous, it has only to
- find the other. I have pointed out to Mrs. Mink that her sailing in the
- tropics was only falling in with this arrangement of Providence, and she
- was pleased to hear it. Going about on loose seas in lazy climates
- sometimes had seemed to her a lax and disorderly kind of conduct, and
- having it attached that way to Providence made her feel better. I said to
- Mrs. Mink: 'It's a doctrine of the present age that the tropics are best
- administered and managed, for the good of all, by the temperate zone.
- Civilisation is now tending to that end. Now, you, Mrs. Mink, are a
- temperate zone. I am a tropical one. You have administrative ability. I am
- a heterogeneous person, untidy, overflowing, and hankering to be
- administered. You are the one, I am the other. Hence our mutual functions,
- destinies, relations to each other, have been arranged and foreordained by
- Providence. <i>Quod erat demonstrandum</i>.' That was my argument to Mrs.
- Mink.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I said: “It's a good argument. How does she like it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mrs. Mink,” he said, “is reflective but unconvinced. The extent to which
- she is unconvinced is alarming. I can't deny it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I left them the day after Thanksgiving, at San Juan in Porto Rico, and
- went back to Portate. Singular town, Portate. Singular man, Dr. Ulswater.
- Singular planet around which the <i>Violetta</i> was setting out with its
- critical, exploring prow.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was some two months after, when I received Dr. Ulswater's first letter.
- Altogether he sent me four letters. Letters! rather manuscripts,
- documents, written in his own mellow and tumultuous style. They made that
- wandering hearth and home of the <i>Violetta</i> a vivid enough picture to
- my mind. I followed its course from sea to sea, from island to island,
- wishing myself aboard her. Here follow the documents.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER V—FIRST DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE: FIRST ADVENTURE
- </h2>
- <p>
- Trinidad—<i>January.</i>
- </p>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HAT a world! What
- a woman!
- </p>
- <p>
- From the way in which Mrs. Mink collected you and me, it was clear that
- she had a knack, a genius, nay, even let us say, a tendency toward
- collecting people. In point of fact, no sooner were you gone than she
- collected a Professor of Logic.
- </p>
- <p>
- His name was Simpson, Professor Simpson. It was at San Juan. Why did she
- collect him? Now you speak of it, I reckon it was for a sort of a
- breakwater to me. Gracious heavens! It wasn't for want of logic. Never!
- But it is just possible that she found me, at the time,—I suspected
- it—that she found me rather—shall I say?—overflowing,
- rather a deluge.
- </p>
- <p>
- Professor Simpson was a man whose presence I should ordinarily have
- welcomed for the educational value of his company, but I didn't welcome
- him. He was small in person, dry of face, categorical in manner, testy in
- temper, Presbyterian in religion, pedantic in language, undoubtedly
- learned. But did he understand his function to be merely a breakwater to
- me? He did not. Let that pass for the present. Mrs. Mink collected him at
- San Juan, and we steamed away to Martinique. Here, one day, on or about
- the tenth of December, we lay in the roadstead of St. Pierre.
- </p>
- <p>
- We were intending to go on that day, but about two-thirds of the <i>Violetta's</i>
- crew were in St. Pierre on shore leave. Captain Jansen came aboard some
- time after noon, and finding the men had not returned, became excited,
- took all the boats, and the remainder of the crew, even down to the cook,
- to help him collect delinquent mariners the faster, and went ashore again.
- We four were left on the <i>Violetta</i>: Mrs. Mink, Norah, Professor
- Simpson, and I.
- </p>
- <p>
- The weather was calm to the point of deadness. Mont Pelée, that
- smouldering volcano, that suppressed Titan, was asleep. Not a cloud in the
- sky, not a ripple in the bay. Jansen appeared to be having trouble, for an
- hour passed, and the missing crew had not returned.
- </p>
- <p>
- Between you and me, as man and man, the delinquent mariners were in the
- lockup, but Mrs. Mink does not know that, as yet. You can't rivet a nail
- in a boiled potato, nor temperance in the tempestuous seaman, but Mrs.
- Mink doesn't know that, as yet.
- </p>
- <p>
- We were just commenting upon a dark, small, condensed looking cloud which
- had appeared above the shoulder of Mont Pelée, questioning whether it was
- an exhalation of the volcano, Pelée in eruption. Was Mont Pelée about to
- overwhelm St. Pierre, a Vesuvius to Pompeii? Was I, like the elder Pliny,
- to perish, a suffocated naturalist, a philosopher in cinder?
- </p>
- <p>
- But it grew with enormous rapidity. It seemed to have an uncommon knack of
- taking in nourishment, a terrifying appetite. I saw a house on the
- mountain side rise up and vanish, swallowed at a gulp. Professor Simpson
- got out his note-book and took notes. He described the cloud in his
- notebook as “bulbous, or bulging in form, in colour a bluish black, and
- unfolding centrifugally toward the edges.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In my opinion,” he said, “we are ourselves in some personal danger. I
- believe this is what is commonly called a tornado. Do you differ from me,
- Dr. Uls-water?”
- </p>
- <p>
- I said: “Not there, professor, though it's late in the year for
- West-Indian hurricanes. The most pointed opinion I've got is that this
- deck is going to be a wet place in a minute.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We'd hardly got to the cabin before the roar was audible, and grew till we
- could not hear ourselves. One minute more and the <i>Violetta</i> gave a
- jerk that threw us on the floor, Norah on Professor Simpson and Mrs. Mink
- on Norah. Between them they obscured him, on the whole, very well. I got
- up and looked through the port-hole, and saw only spray and splashing
- water. The ship was engaged in a sort of circular high-kicking dance,
- something between a waltz and a cancan. The professor remained obscure.
- Neither Mrs. Mink nor Norah saw their way clearly to getting off him, and
- for myself,—seeing that he kicked but vaguely, harmlessly,—I
- thought Mrs. Mink and Norah might as well suit themselves about it.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the end of four minutes, perhaps five or ten, the tumult had subsided
- to a strong wind and heavy sea. I went on deck, and discovered that the <i>Violetta</i>
- had been torn loose from her anchor, and was drifting rapidly. The mist,
- however, was too thick to see far in any direction. By the point from
- which the tornado had come, I judged that we had been driven out of the
- roadstead and were moving perhaps west, or northwest, on the open sea. A
- broken spar hung from the short rigging and beat against the mast, and the
- deck was awash with water. I went back to the cabin, and mentioned my
- inferences. Mrs. Mink jumped up and said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nonsense! It's impossible.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But, my dear Mrs. Mink,” said the professor, rising, “surely a situation
- that is <i>in esse</i>, in actual existence, cannot be described as
- 'impossible.' It is, as you mean to imply, however, most distressing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks! What shall we do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The professor reflected. On reflection, he said he thought it needed
- reflection. I thought we might as well remain where we were. He objected
- that, being in motion with the ship, it was not in our power to remain
- where we were, but, as regards our relations to the ship, I was perhaps
- right.
- </p>
- <p>
- What a man!
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink said we'd better have supper.
- </p>
- <p>
- The mist was turning to rain, the violence of the waves gradually
- subsiding, and the wind growing more moderate. Norah and I went to the
- galley. She cooked and I carried. After supper it was dark. A pitch-black
- and rainy night came down on the troubled sea. The professor and I agreed
- to watch alternately. He went to bed and I lay down on the cabin sofa. I
- listened to the creak and thump of the loose spar, the murmur of the rain,
- the splash of waves against the <i>Violetta</i>'s sides. I reflected that
- our situation was perhaps more unusual than perilous; that we were likely
- to be seen by somebody if the weather cleared; that after all the sea is
- in reality a less eventful element than the land; that a philosophic mind
- is better than a feather bed; that with reasonable good luck and a
- philosophic mind I might have the credit of a nightlong watch over Mrs.
- Mink's slumbers, along with the benefit of a night's rest. So reflecting,
- I went to sleep.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VI—SECOND ADVENTURE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN I awoke the
- sun was shining in at the port-holes, and the ship appeared to be quiet,
- but slanting. It was the slant that had rolled me off the sofa and
- awakened me. Hence it must have just happened. I went up the companionway,
- and saw—the boundless blue expanse of dimpled sea? Not at all!
- Nothing of the kind! On the contrary, a towering green wall of forest
- trees almost overhung the ship.
- </p>
- <p>
- Talk not to me of the ruthless chain of causes whereby all things are
- bound, of nature's dismal obedience to law! As a scientist, I admit it
- with reservation—as a man, with tears. But what I really like about
- things is their fresh and genial inconsequence. Among all worlds, give me
- one compact of improbability. Among all women, give me one of invincible
- good sense.
- </p>
- <p>
- The <i>Violetta</i> lay something over fifty feet from a high wooded bank.
- The tide was out, but the shelve of the bottom must be steep, for her list
- to landward was not very great. We were on the eastern side of a
- semicircular bay, which opened toward the south. It was still early
- morning. No wind stirred, and the ripples flowed gently among the stones
- beneath the high banks. Bright-coloured birds flitted between the tall
- stems of the palm trees. A place so calm, so halcyon, so appropriate to
- the purposes of my suit! In fact,—Bless my soul!—nothing could
- be better.
- </p>
- <p>
- Professor Simpson and Mrs. Mink appeared on deck.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh!” she said; “Where's this, doctor?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She looked as if she thought I had omnipotently arranged the climax. I
- passed the question on to the professor.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tentatively,” he said, “I should conjecture it was an outlying island
- somewhat to the north or east of Martinique.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But does any one live on it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That Dr. Ulswater and myself will take upon us to discover.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I think it's a nice island, anyway. But there aren't any boats. How
- are we going to get on it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Precisely!” said the professor. “A problem! I would suggest, perhaps, a
- bridge of—of palm trees, felled—” he kindled with light
- inflammable ideas—“felled in such a manner as to fall forward upon
- the ship, thus, being fastened, to form a secure connection with the
- shore.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't see how you can chop them from here,” said Mrs. Mink.
- </p>
- <p>
- “True. That is a difficulty.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a pause. A green and scarlet parrot was swearing at us from
- where he swung on a vine above the bank. I leaned on the rail and listened
- to the parrot and considered his point of view.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Professor,” I said at last; “this is a world of compensations. There's
- compensation in your not understanding the dialect of that parrot. His
- clothes are handsome, but his language is bad. You are religious and
- ascetic, and he's a worldling. I'm a worldling, too, but I can swim, and I
- see compensations.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let's have breakfast,” said Mrs. Mink.
- </p>
- <p>
- After breakfast I swam ashore with an axe, climbed the bank, selected four
- tall slender palms that leaned in the direction of the <i>Violetta</i>'s
- after-deck, and hacked them down. Two of them fell on the <i>Violetta</i>
- and damaged her rail, but stuck where they fell. The professor roped the
- ends to a capstan, and crossed that sagging bridge, respectably calm,
- dragging after him the long end of the rope, which we fastened to a tree.
- The <i>Violetta</i> was moored.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink came, too, nervous but firm.
- </p>
- <p>
- What a woman! Practical, foreseeing, sagacious, she will walk the
- tight-rope of any catastrophe. In fact, she brought a hammock and a
- cushion with her. Norah's method of crossing somewhat resembled shinning a
- pole. ON recollection, I should say that she yelled.
- </p>
- <p>
- When Professor Simpson and I set out to explore the island, Norah was
- throwing stones at the green and red parrot, and Mrs. Mink lay in the
- hammock, not understanding that parrot's dialect, which I didn't
- understand altogether myself, but it appeared to me he was blistering the
- foliage with it.
- </p>
- <p>
- The island was some three to five miles around by the coast, and no other
- land was in sight from it, barring a slight bump on the southeastern
- horizon which might be another small island, or might be Mont Pelée. It
- appeared we had been blown some distance during the night. There were no
- inhabitants at the time, or we found none, though there were two groups of
- sorry huts not far from the beach, and frequent paths through the woods,
- showing occasional occupancy.
- </p>
- <p>
- We came back by the northern shore of the bay, and saw that the <i>Violetta</i>
- was safe. We stood some moments in silence. The wind had risen again and
- now blew hard from the west, so that the <i>Violetta</i> was protected on
- a lee shore, though where we stood the waves rolled in tumultuously.
- Professor Simpson broke the silence. He suddenly planted himself before
- me, his hands on his hips, and frowned.
- </p>
- <p>
- Now, a frown that is directed upward has the law of gravitation against
- it. Professor Simpson's shortness incommoded him in that respect.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is not my habit, Dr. Ulswater,” he began, “to brook impertinent
- opposition or light-minded interference. In, therefore, announcing my
- intention to invite Mrs. Mink to the alliance of marriage, I consider that
- no more need be said. I wish to be relieved of this undignified rivalry,
- and to avail myself of this situation to fulfil my purpose in peace. I
- demand that your too noticeable attentions shall cease. Your attitude
- toward Mrs. Mink is offensive to me. I repeat, sir, they must cease.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Extraordinary professor! Never was another like him. He was a species.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But,” I said, feebly; “look here. I've already been at Mrs. Mink on that
- subject myself. I was thinking it was a good time to work up to it again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I object to your giving Mrs. Mink that annoyance. Her preference for me
- is perfectly plain. You are without personal attractions.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are too fat.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But, professor! On the other hand, ought not the fact of your being a
- contemptible little dried-up molecule, with the temper of a mosquito and
- the humour of a codfish ball, oughtn't that—now really, oughtn't
- that fact to be given some weight in the discussion? I appeal to you,
- professor?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sir!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He clenched his fists. It was a critical and perilous moment. Did he or
- did he not intend an attack on my diaphragm? Should I or should I not be
- presently seated on top of him like a bolster on a crab?
- </p>
- <p>
- There is a Haitian proverb which says, “It's when the wind blows that you
- see the skin of a hen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Professor Simpson drew a long breath, and suddenly laid himself flat on
- the ground, extended his arms and legs and closed his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was somewhat heated,” he murmured. “To allay any mental strain, such as
- vexation or anger, extend the body, relax the muscles, and endeavour to
- abstract the mind from surroundings. The effect is invariable. Let me
- recommend it to you. There!” he said, after a moment, getting to his feet.
- “I am quite calm. And now, clearly, Dr. Ulswater, clearly, we must submit
- it to Mrs. Mink. I suggest, then, that we ask her for a half-hour's
- interview each. Subsequently, she will announce her decision, and thus we
- will conclude our dispute.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I agreed. We went amicably along the shore of the bay toward the <i>Violetta</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- Norah was in the hammock, but Mrs. Mink had gone aboard again, and stood
- by the rail looking toward us. The yacht lay on a lee shore, and there the
- water was fairly calm; but the force of the wind, in spite of the
- protection of the trees, was such now as to put some strain on the rope
- which stretched taut to the bank.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In half an hour, then,” said Professor Simpson, “you will be at liberty
- to interrupt me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was over the bridge while I was figuring on the discrepancy,—the
- something not quite predestined,—in his having the first shot,—that
- is to say, the first opportunity,—of presenting his case to Mrs.
- Mink. I was going to propose we should flip a coin for it. He was a
- wonder, a wonder! I called out to Mrs. Mink, asking for an interview in
- half an hour. She looked surprised. I went back among the trees, and
- wished I were a Presbyterian, and watched, during that long half-hour, the
- minutes slowly passing on the cold unfeeling face of my watch. I allowed
- the full time and went back.
- </p>
- <p>
- Professor Simpson was still arguing. I concluded, comfortably, that his
- argument had not, as yet, convinced Mrs. Mink. They stood by the rail,
- near the straining rope that fastened the yacht to the bank.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Professor,” I called, “your time's up. I'm coming aboard.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He raised his hands. He was excited. He cried:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have not concluded! Mrs. Mink! A few moments more! No, no! I refuse to
- be interrupted.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink said nothing. Her expression of face was the expression of an
- interested spectator. It seemed to say: “Which of you is going to do
- something?” I went toward the bridge. He wrung his hands. His excitement
- became intense.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is critical, sir, critical! Your conduct is inconsiderate, offensive!
- I insist!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Suddenly he disappeared below the rail.
- </p>
- <p>
- He rose again. An axe was aloft in both his hands. He rushed at the rope.
- He struck! The miserable little pirate! He chopped the rope, the
- infinitesimal assassin!
- </p>
- <p>
- The yacht keeled over, under pressure of the gale, and Mrs. Mink and
- Professor Simpson disappeared. Probably they slid to the other side. The
- bridge was dragged after the yacht. I was nearly on it, and all but
- pitched from the bank into the water. Norah sat up and yelled. The green
- parrot climbed down and swore. The <i>Violetta</i> regained her level and
- drifted rapidly away.
- </p>
- <p>
- I picked up the axe that had been used to fell the palm trees, and ran
- along the shore. It was an action not suited to my physique. I had to stop
- and take breath.
- </p>
- <p>
- “However,” I reflected, “he's done for himself. Mrs. Mink won't stand for
- it. Or—or, will she?”
- </p>
- <p>
- At the same time I did not like a rival so fertile in expedients, nor the
- fact that he and Mrs. Mink were both Presbyterians.
- </p>
- <p>
- The yacht was not driving in the direction of the open sea, but across the
- bay, nearly toward the spot where Professor Simpson and I had had our
- first altercation.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VII—THIRD ADVENTURE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN I reached the
- place, the prow of the <i>Violetta</i> had already run aground, and the
- stern had swung about, dragging the attached tree trunks after it, so that
- the yacht lay in something like its former position, parallel to the
- shore, but further off, the shelve being here more gradual. Moreover, she
- was now on a windward shore, the waves of considerable height and force,
- and, being balanced, so to speak, on her keel, she oscillated, descending
- now on this side toward the shore, now on that side away from me, through
- an arc of some forty degrees. The situation I beheld with mingled
- emotions, both soothed and lacerated, soothed on account of Professor
- Simpson's condign punishment, lacerated on account of Mrs. Mink. Their
- cries were heard above the tumult. They clung to the landward rail, which
- went up and down like a teeter, or a ducking stool, regular as a pendulum,
- terrific, but distressing.
- </p>
- <p>
- “For goodness' sake, doctor, do something!” cried Mrs. Mink; and Professor
- Simpson shrieked: “Can you not assist? I entreat! I adjure! Do not——”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was interrupted.
- </p>
- <p>
- Something had to be done.
- </p>
- <p>
- The two tree trunks attached to the stern had been driven about, so that
- the butts rested on the bottom, in the midst of the surf. Being dragged
- back and forth by the motion of the yacht, and at the same time tossed by
- the surf, the result was a somewhat complicated motion. To get through the
- surf was no great difficulty, for two hundred and odd pounds of
- determination. But to draw the butts together, to climb them beyond reach
- of the surf, to maintain the uneasy position so gained, astride those two
- insane, rotatory, and indecorous poles,—wabbled, danced, dandled,
- jerked about in the air by that eccentric and careening-viaduct, whose
- leaps, halts, and rebounds resembled the kicking of a restive mule or a
- series of railroad collisions—this was achievement, this was a goal
- and effort worthy of a man!
- </p>
- <p>
- I succeeded. Clinging to the logs with hands and knees, I looked up. Mrs.
- Mink and the professor hung over the shattered rail above me. I shouted:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come on! I'll meet you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I can't walk <i>that!</i>” she called back. “It doesn't keep still.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Walk it! No!” I roared. “Creep it, madam! Shin it! Roll it! Come anyway,
- and don't fall off.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She laughed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Admirable woman! For self-possession, spirit, and sense, where is her
- equal? She mounted, clung, approached. I clasped her, slid back to the
- edge of the surf, lifted her, rushed, waded, forced my way to land. She
- was wet. I was winded. I admit both. Stretched on the ground I felt
- particularly indifferent to any accident, to anything whatever, that might
- happen to Professor Simpson. Suddenly I was aware of him. Cast up by an
- ebullient wave, he sprawled on the shore and sprang to his feet, crying,
- </p>
- <p>
- “A miraculous escape! I would not have believed myself so agile.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink looked from one to the other of us, and began to laugh.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am delighted,” he said, shaking himself, “my dear Rebecca, to see you
- in such composure.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I got up. I spoke with dignity.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do I understand, sir, that you've profited by your treachery?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He looked disturbed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mrs. Mink has—nevertheless I am not without——”
- </p>
- <p>
- I interrupted and turned to Mrs. Mink.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You approved of this gentleman's behaviour?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What behaviour? Well! It was bright of him, anyway.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You knew of the agreement between us?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course, you were going to propose to me next. Fiddlesticks! You've
- done that before? What made you let him come first? You shouldn't let
- people run over you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were to reserve your decision, madam.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Humph! I didn't agree to that. Perhaps he's willing to begin over again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Professor Simpson started.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mrs. Mink speaks in jest. It would be unprecedented, impossible.” We
- paused.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well?” said Mrs. Mink.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, madam?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What are you going to do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I see you like men of strenuous action, Mrs. Mink,” I said. “Would it, do
- you think? would it insinuate me somewhat into your favour if I were to
- take this axe and strenuously chop Professor Simpson's head in two
- symmetrical but characteristic parts?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Professor Simpson looked aghast.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Mink.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not feasible, you think? Perhaps not. Suppose, then, I were to cut a
- switch and apply it to Professor Simpson's attenuated legs. Could you
- candidily recommend that, Mrs. Mink?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will not submit, sir!” he cried. “I will not submit!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink turned and walked rapidly away.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Professor,” I said, taking out my waterproof match-safe and extracting
- several matches, “you will take these matches and see that Mrs. Mink is
- comfortable. Our rescuers will find us in time, no doubt. Until then you
- will respect my privacy. I seek no revenge and offer no congratulations. I
- don't inquire into your standards of integrity. I don't see, unless your
- system of ethics is fundamentally unsound, how you can reconcile to
- morality this reward of victorious evil. But I leave it to your
- casuistry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It seemed to me this was a poisoned arrow well planted. I had set him a
- problem likely to irritate his exact mind. I picked up the axe and walked
- up the shore in the opposite direction.
- </p>
- <p>
- The afternoon was growing late. I kindled a fire to dry my clothes, felled
- a banana tree, and ate bananas. Across the bay I could make out the smoke
- of the other camp fire. The <i>Violetta</i> still swayed back and forth,
- but not so violently, on her keel. The wind still blew, but the air was
- warm. I sat by the fire and took inventory of things in general.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VIII—PROFESSOR SIMPSON AGAIN
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>EQUAM memento,” I
- reflected, “rebus in arduis.”
- </p>
- <p>
- After all, marriage would disturb my pursuits. A man with a liquid and
- non-resistant name like “Ulswater,” with a fleshy and floating physique,
- with a mind as full of refuse as a sargasso sea, and whiskers resembling
- sargasso,—when he proposes to ally himself in marriage to a woman
- like Mrs. Mink, whose rational instincts—as a capable and neat
- housekeeper—would be to trim his whiskers and rearrange his nature,
- to tidy up his mind and sweep it, hang antimacassars over its chairs,
- polish its andirons, fling the cuspidor out of the window, and can the
- tropical fruitage of his character into jellies and jams in glass jars
- with screw tops and rubber bands,—when such a man has in mind such
- an alliance, if fate prevents, if an agile Presbyterian professor is one
- too many for him, what should he do but remark, “<i>Aequam memento rebus
- in arduis servare mentem</i>,” that is, “In trouble take it easy,” and
- then immediately proceed to swear himself black in the face, and wish for
- a green and red parrot to take up the job after him?
- </p>
- <p>
- Precisely. Also I dried my clothes and whistled. Time passed on, and it
- was perhaps six o'clock. Suddenly, as I looked up, Professor Simpson stood
- before me, alone.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Professor,” I said, “you intrude.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He seated himself on the fallen trunk of the banana tree.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am compelled to do so,” he said. “Mrs. Mink objects to the present
- arrangement; whether on the score of propriety, or because she regards my
- protection as inadequate, I cannot say, I refuse to discuss. It is a
- matter, in either case, humiliating to myself. She demands the return of
- Dr. Uls-water.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am sorry for Mrs. Mink's feelings,” I said, “but I seem to see a lack
- of consideration for mine.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have stated Mrs. Mink's attitude without commenting upon it,” he went
- on. “As regards my own, there is much more to be said. I cannot conceal
- from myself that the terms you have applied to my late ill-regulated
- conduct would, if properly qualified and defined, in the main be just. I
- am, further, upon Mrs. Mink's own declaration, forced to believe that her
- consent not for the present to decline my suit, but to consider it,
- perhaps favourably, was entirely due to that very action which my
- conscience compels me to deplore. She was attracted by that very deviation
- from rectitude into which I was tempted and fell. She states that she was
- about to decline my proposal absolutely, finally, when my action revealed
- to her my character, as she says, in a new light. Not to my position in
- the scientific world, my well-earned repute, not to my worthier qualities
- of mind and heart, not to her conviction of these claims, can her
- capitulation—if such it was—be attributed. You will understand
- my distress at this admission made by Mrs. Mink. I fear to infer, and yet
- I must infer, a want of seriousness, of strict conscience, on the part of
- Mrs. Mink. I showed her my distress, I intimated my fear, I begged her to
- allay it, to consider, to recollect the facts more carefully. She became
- angry and asked if I repented cutting the rope. I defined my position. She
- interrupted, refused to listen, and said that my proposal was now
- declined. I endeavoured to reason, to supplement argument by argument. She
- prevented me; she commanded me to go and insist on Dr. Ulswater's return.
- Such has been my recent painful conversation with Mrs. Mink, concluding
- with the command which has caused this intrusion upon you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't apologise,” I said, gaily, getting up. “You repent and withdraw, I
- forgive and forget.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have admitted repentance but not withdrawal,” he said, angrily, “and I
- refuse your impertinent forgiveness.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come along, professor,” I said. “Refuse and admit what you like till the
- crack of doom. I've got business on hand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He followed after dejectedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- As we drew near, we saw Mrs. Mink, with Norah, standing on the high bank
- and looking seaward. She saw us, cried out, pointed, and waved her
- handkerchief. A small steam vessel was entering the bay. It was Captain
- Jansen and the crew looking for us and for the vagrant <i>Violetta</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IX—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S FIRST MANUSCRIPT
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE <i>Violetta</i>
- was towed out into deep water. Captain Jansen used some badly broken
- English on the condition of his starboard rail. Not but that he had
- expected more damage than he found, but damaging a ship by chopping a tree
- down upon her, hurt him in a sensitive point of seamanship.
- </p>
- <p>
- There seemed to be no leakage, for all that war-dance with the elements,
- and mad teetering on a windward shore. Still he preferred to pass the
- night in the bay—the weather being uncertain—and tow the <i>Violetta</i>
- on the morrow to St. Pierre for repairs.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was evening, and I stood watching the moon rise peacefully and look
- down on the gleaming but troubled waters of the little bay. Placid and
- poetic she went up among her attendant stars. The wooded shore lay about
- us dark and mysterious.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let me,” I said to myself, “recapitulate. Presbyterianism is
- insufficient. Scientific celebrity is insufficient. The precise conscience
- and balance of rectitude are to the lover as a wire twitchup to the hungry
- rabbit. Action, sharp decision, the habit, so to speak, of getting there,
- these are what appeal to Mrs. Mink.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Now, along those lines Professor Simpson was no slouch of a rival. In
- point of character he was hard as nails; in decision and action he was
- energetic and exact. Yet he had failed. He had speared himself, as it
- were, on the angle of an impractical conscience. But where did I come in?
- I, who in point of character was a semiliquid jelly fish, an invertebrate
- protozoan, whose nature was to float on the heaving and uncertain sea of
- humour, bathed in the moonlight of poetry, devouring the chance drift of
- knowledge, sucking philosophy out of rock; whose centre of personality was
- loose; whose mind was as untidy as a cuttlefish; how could I appeal to
- Mrs. Mink? On the evidence so far, I had but one strong point, namely a
- practical conscience, a conscience which, having always treated me with a
- great deal of—shall I say, with a great deal of tact?—was a
- conscience that——
- </p>
- <p>
- At this point in my reflection Mrs. Mink came on deck.
- </p>
- <p>
- When doubtful in whist, play trumps. When doubtful in any other situation,
- ask Mrs. Mink. Her counsel is always trumps.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mrs. Mink,” I said, as she came and stood beside me at the rail, “I am in
- doubt.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What about?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The question is this: If a disorderly cuttlefish has proposed marriage to
- one of those small neat birds who yet have the knack of making themselves
- at home in a wilderness of waves, and by sailors are called 'Mother
- Carey's chickens'; if so far as the cuttlefish can see he has only
- succeeded in producing in Mother Carey's chicken a state of unconvinced
- reflection; if he knows his structure to be floppy and his nature sloppy,
- what, in fact, do you think he should do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't think you're a cuttlefish.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ha! I don't insist on the figure.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're dreadfully untidy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink was silent.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Should I imitate Professor Simpson to the summit of Presbyterianism, or a
- green parrot to the bottom of reprobation? Should I——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't like Professor Simpson, or the green parrot either.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, then, what do you think we had better do next?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink was long silent. At last she said, thoughtfully:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think we'd better go to Trinidad.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What for?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, they're English in Trinidad, aren't they?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good God, madam! what if they are?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You mustn't talk that way!” she said, sharply. “Of course Catholics may
- be good men, but, still, I shouldn't like it in French.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Like what?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We'd better be married in Trinidad.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There you are, satisfactory, inclusive, concise! I ask: “How shall I
- attain my soul's desire?” She answers: “Be married in Trinidad.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We left Professor Simpson at St. Pierre. He was intending to climb Mont
- Pelée and extract knowledge from its oracular mouth. If that solemn, grim,
- stony, and sometimes irascible sphinx of a volcano started in to talk to
- him, it's possible that the volcano had the last of the argument. Perhaps
- not. I haven't heard. He was a very persistent logician. Maybe he meant to
- cast himself forlornly into the crater. The idea is luminous, romantic.
- But I think, on the whole, that he did nothing of the kind.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Mink says she would never have accepted him, and was merely vexed to
- see him outwit me, which it must be admitted he did. But my feelings are
- like those of a man who has succeeded by a narrow margin.
- </p>
- <p>
- We lie now in harbour at Trinidad, whose green hills rise sumptuously out
- of the blue of the Caribbean. The future promises all happiness and varied
- interests; among which interests, I suspect, will be the coming Mrs.
- Ulswater's masterly reorganisation of me. Do I flatter myself, or does
- she, as it almost seems, look forward to that task with real enthusiasm?
- Wonderful woman!
- </p>
- <p>
- Adieu—Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- P. S. The argument from analogy was the sound one—the tropics, the
- temperate zone, and the intentions of Providence. Convince her of your
- imperative need of her, and you have made the imperative appeal. So far I
- see.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER X—SECOND DOCUMENT. DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES:
- SUSANNAH
- </h2>
- <p>
- Malay Peninsula, <i>June.</i>
- </p>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OREVER shall my
- voice bear testimony to Mrs. Ulswater. She has gathered the races about
- her knee. The races didn't all stay there, but it's just as well they
- didn't. She has faced the hoary wisdom of the East, and subdued it. At the
- present writing Wisdom still acts as if he felt subdued.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater was impatient to reach the far eastern mission field. She
- wished to see in action the process by which people, whose souls were
- naturally darkened by the opaqueness of their skins, become enlightened.
- This opinion as to the origin of idolatry I drew from Mrs. Ulswater with
- some difficulty. She held the theory, indeed, dimly, subconsciously. It
- was new to me. It is a theory worth examining for its latent mysticism. To
- what does it logically lead? If intelligence tends to increase with the
- transparency of the fleshly integument, wouldn't I be cleverer if not so
- fat? <i>C'est un grand peut-être</i>. But I'm getting thinner. Bismillah!
- </p>
- <p>
- I have in my life pursued many ideals. I have hitched my wagon to certain
- stars. Some of the blanked things were comets, and some of them went out
- as unregretted as a bad cigar. Now I cling henceforward to this domestic
- light and floating fireside of the <i>Violetta</i>. No man has so entire a
- footing in the universe as he whose stockings are darned by a woman with a
- logical mind. I am not myself a vertebrate. Mrs. Ulswater is my
- complement. I am complete. I am satisfied. I am at rest.
- </p>
- <p>
- My family has increased. It now consists of Mrs. Ulswater, an orphan girl,
- and an orphan pundit. But I go too fast.
- </p>
- <p>
- On the 13th of last April, we put in at the island of Clementina, which
- lies to the north of Mozambique Channel.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now,” said I to Mrs. Ulswater, “I am complete. I am satisfied. I am at
- rest. But why Clementina?”
- </p>
- <p>
- I was presented with and referred to a pamphlet or periodical, in fact, a
- quarterly. It appeared to be devoted to the reports of missionary labours.
- It is a branch of literature never by me thoroughly investigated. Mrs.
- Ulswater has a remarkable series of these pamphlets, covering more than
- ten years. A veritable find!
- </p>
- <p>
- Now, in this number of the periodical in question, about two years old,
- was an illustrated article by one Mr. Tupper, a missionary, describing an
- orphan-asylum in the island of Clementina, and ah! so feelingly, with such
- pleasant details of the names and prospects of individual orphans, that I
- quickly shared the interest of Mrs. Ulswater. We wished to make the
- acquaintance of the following orphans, to wit, the orphan named
- “Susannah,” the orphan named “Thaddeus,” and the orphan named “James,” and
- the orphans “Caleb,” “Zillah,” “Stephen,” and “Naomi,” these apparently
- being the seven beneficiaries of the establishment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Susannah,” wrote Mr. Tupper, “is characterised by great vigour of mind,
- and by astuteness, if not perhaps by invariable serenity. She is the
- daughter of the late Rev. Mr. Romney of Georgia, U. S. A., my predecessor
- at this mission, who with his devoted wife died of an epidemic fever some
- eight years ago. Upon my arrival I found the orphans in a state most
- distressingly uncivilised. There are perils in this remote corner of the
- world, but hunger and cold are not among them. Little shelter is
- necessary, and food is to be had for the taking. Physically, a child can
- grow up and thrive almost unregarded.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And so on, most interesting remarks by Mr. Tupper.
- </p>
- <p>
- Clementina looked like a comfortable island. We recognised the port, and
- the high green hill, which the illustrations pictured as the site of the
- mission.
- </p>
- <p>
- The <i>Violetta</i> was anchored not far from the shore. Mrs. Ulswater and
- I were landed on the white beach under the hill. We climbed the hill. “On
- the very crest,” in the words of Mr. Tupper's description, stood “a
- cluster of bamboo cottages hidden in foliage.” The Asylum!
- </p>
- <p>
- <i>Horribile dicta!</i>
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “I never!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The cottages were empty! Nay, ruined, decadent, most of the roofs fallen!
- Eight decrepit bamboo structures in a row! The traces of a lawn, now faded
- into wilderness! Oh, neglect and desolation! What had we here? An orphaned
- orphanage! Most ridiculous of asylums!
- </p>
- <p>
- A hen fled yelling across the open. In the wake of, in pursuit of, this
- hen, there rapidly wriggled out of the thicket seven scratched, and
- scarcely to be called clothed, individuals. My impression was immediate.
- </p>
- <p>
- I said, “They are the orphans!”
- </p>
- <p>
- They were. They sprang up in line. They bowed. They shouted with
- remarkable unison:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good morning, sir! Good morning, ma'am!”
- </p>
- <p>
- We gasped. We were astounded. “Well,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “I never!”
- </p>
- <p>
- They began to sing. They sang, in point of fact, as follows:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ Pull for the shore, sailor!
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Pull for the shore! ”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- all except for one orphan, from whose rounded mouth detonated the
- statement, “I'm a pilgrim, I'm a stranger,” whose globular face was
- slapped with incredible rapidity by the girl who stood next him, at the
- head of the line, and who sang on imperiously, though the rest of the
- chorus broke down:
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ Heed not the rolling waves,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- But bend to the oar.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- She had lank limbs, and the unmistakable features of an Aryan. I should
- have described her offhand as a “personage.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Susannah!” cried Mrs. Ulswater. “Don't tell me you're not!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Present!” said Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thaddeus?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Present!” from the globular pilgrim and stranger.
- </p>
- <p>
- “James?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Present!”
- </p>
- <p>
- James stood at the other end of the line. He was the smallest, Susannah
- the tallest, and Thaddeus the fattest of the orphans. “Caleb?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Present!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Naomi?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Present!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Zillah?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Present!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stephen?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Present!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Very good. There they were.
- </p>
- <p>
- But alas! it was a run-down, abandoned asylum. Mr. Tupper, that talented
- descriptive author, had died some six months before, of the fever that
- seemed to be resident, or sporadic, in the island.
- </p>
- <p>
- I discovered, at Port Clementina, a sort of governor or prefect, who
- seemed to be officially resident, and by nature sporadic, incidental. He
- was the calmest official in the Indian Ocean. There were vast vacant
- spaces in his mind. He did not know there were any orphans now at the
- asylum. He had understood there wasn't any asylum left. In any case, why
- not? In every conceivable case, why not? He had supposed they had all
- grown up, or disappeared, or fallen off something, or died of the fever,
- or snakes, or been adopted by natives, or something. Why not? In point of
- fact, now he came to think of it, he had not supposed anything about it
- whatever. Were they indeed still running around up there? Name of God! How
- amusing!
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater was indignant.
- </p>
- <p>
- The population of Clementina is of extremely mixed blood. That Susannah
- was of Caucasian extraction—age fifteen or so; that Thaddeus also
- was of some northern ancestry, by his light hair, high cheek-bones, and
- slightly piggy eyes; that James was a diminutive Malayan—as I judged—age
- perhaps eight; and the rest miscellaneous African, Arab, French, and what
- not—all this argues a curious history for the island; which history
- I had no time to investigate, on account of Mrs. Ulswater's indignation.
- </p>
- <p>
- Under the force of this indignation the orphans were swept swiftly aboard
- the <i>Violetta</i>. The hen, above mentioned, also came along with the
- current. The name of the hen is “Georgiana Tupper.” Mrs. Ulswater
- accomplished it in this way. She made an alliance with Susannah. The
- orphans were promptly aboard, Again, good! There they were.
- </p>
- <p>
- The following morning they weren't. We found only Susannah still with us
- and Georgiana Tupper. The rest were gone, vanished forever. Captain Jansen
- approached us, and touched his cap.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes'm. They yump; I hear 'em go yump, one, two, dree, four, six, un I get
- out dey boat, un dose gone swim ashore, un her don' yump. I don' know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater turned on Susannah. “What made them jump?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Said Susannah: “They ain't any good, those niggers. They're 'fraid.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Afraid of what?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, they're just 'fraid to go. Their insides are all mush and dassent.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're not afraid, Susannah?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Me!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Singular, scornful maid!
- </p>
- <p>
- We were unable to find the miscellaneous again. Apparently they hid,
- preferring the incidental or sporadic life of Clementina. With this
- diminished orphanage, we set over the Indian Ocean, seeking another asylum
- for Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- I found at Clementina a curious variety of the Asteroidea or star fish.
- </p>
- <p>
- You never saw the beat of Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XI—RAM NAD
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was at Colombo
- in Ceylon that we met with Ram Nad. I asked for him in the market place,
- and found him. He was sitting on a cobblestone, and leaning over his
- basket, asleep.
- </p>
- <p>
- My acquaintance with Ram Nad began many years ago. Somewhere in my
- indefinite and unmapped past, I once lived on the island of Ceylon, and
- knew Ram Nad. He was by faith a Buddhist, by nature a painstaking liar, by
- profession a medical practitioner, or quasi-physician,—not of the
- allopathic school, nor of the homeopathic, but of the heteropathic and
- absurd. But he practised sleight-of-hand tricks and mesmerism in a manner
- that roused my profound respect. We exchanged informations, and I had a
- great affection for him in those days.
- </p>
- <p>
- Even then he looked like a mixture of Abraham and an early Christian
- martyr, with some resemblance to a sheep.
- </p>
- <p>
- I took him aboard the <i>Violetta</i> in order to get his advice
- respecting the orphan-asylums of his native land.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad already knew himself to be more vertebrate and sagacious than I,
- but he did not know Mrs. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- The harbour at Colombo is no harbour, but an open roadstead, though quiet
- at that time.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “ The spicy breezes blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.'
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- The hymnal says so, but I don't agree with it. Three-quarters of Ceylon is
- an abomination of swamp, sand, and jungle, with a most pestilential and
- vile climate; whereas the normal Cingalese person is the mildest, most
- peaceful and pious agriculturist that's to be found.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad wore a blue head cloth. The rest of his clothes were meant to be
- white, like his beard. He squatted behind his basket. Mrs. Ulswater rocked
- in her rocking-chair, knitting, looking at Ram Nad as if she did not make
- out how to begin benefiting him. She examined Ram Nad, who in turn
- examined Susannah, who in turn was, at that moment, playing jackstraws.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad said there were no orphan-asylums in Ceylon that he could truly
- recommend, which sounded conscientious.
- </p>
- <p>
- He continued: But for himself, he said, he was a lonely man; desolate and
- empty was his house of the beautiful gardens; he was desirous of children
- in his old age. The excellent Mrs. Ulswater—might her benevolence be
- rewarded! the learned Dr. Ulswater—might his folly and ignorance
- have been by time corrected!—he hoped these all would understand his
- immaculate motives. For what said the Great Teacher? “Let parents train
- their children, and their memories be honoured by the same: let the
- husband give his wife kindness, together with suitable ornaments and
- clothes, and let her be a thrifty housekeeper; finally, let the pupils
- give attention, and the teacher instruct them in knowledge.” The girl, he
- said, pleased him; therefore it was possible that he might in righteous
- charity adopt her, instruct her. By a singular accident he had but
- yesterday taken a solemn vow to adopt a child to his old age; many had
- been witness to this vow.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater looked thoughtful. She rather wanted Susannah brought up
- Presbyterian. “He quotes Scripture very well,” she whispered to me. “It
- sounds queer, but maybe it's his clothes.” But she seemed disturbed, and
- looked away at Susannah, who played jackstraws.
- </p>
- <p>
- I reflected vaguely about Ram Nad, on the different kinds of guile he was
- equal to, and how if he went off with Susannah, the Indian Ocean would
- seem less entertaining. Mrs. Ulswater appeared worried.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad waived the point, or appeared to. He said he would, if we liked,
- display some marvels for our instruction, while further considering. Then
- he opened a few common tricks.
- </p>
- <p>
- He took Mrs. Ulswater's sewing, threw it over the rail into the sea,
- picked it out of the inner folds of his turban, and returned it. Then he
- thrust Mrs. Ulswater's knitting needles down my throat and drew them one
- by one from the pit of my diaphragm. It seemed so, sufficiently so. In
- fact, it made me feel unwell. He induced Susannah to enter his enormous
- conical basket, covered her and stirred inside with his hand, with a
- violent circular motion, as one beats eggs with a spoon—took off the
- cover, disclosed the interior, and shook it bottom up. No Susannah there!
- </p>
- <p>
- He covered it, stirred again—eggs and spoons—turned it over,
- lifted it again. There sat Susannah on the deck, safe but indignant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You punched me!” she cried, and then turned distracted to clutch at the
- small of her back. Mrs. Ulswater came to her help, and unbuttoning her
- frock took out the jackstraws. They seemed to have been dropped down her
- neck. Susannah was furious.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad next seated himself opposite her, and fell to crooning and
- spooning with both hands—two spoons, infinite eggs.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater said, “Well, I never!” Even I may possibly have ejaculated,
- “Ha!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The eyes of Susannah became fixed, her form rigid. Ram Nad stroked his
- beard, Susannah the front of her frock. He sighed, she sighed. “Roll!” She
- rolled; she kept on rolling; she rolled across the deck and brought up in
- the scuppers, where she struggled to continue rolling. “Roll back!” She
- rolled back. “Sit up!” She sat up. He fell to crooning and waving—reversed
- spoons and a reaching after dispersed eggs. Susannah blinked, relapsed,
- awoke.
- </p>
- <p>
- Remarkable maid, Susannah, strenuous, decided. She dashed at Ram Nad. She
- snatched off his head cloth. She flung it in his face. She fled to Mrs.
- Ulswater and wept loudly in her arms.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad looked surprised and partly martyred.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nevertheless, I am not displeased,” he said, picking up his head cloth.
- “I will take her to my house of beautiful gardens.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Indeed you won't!” cried Mrs. Ulswater. “You ought to be ashamed of
- yourself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad bowed his head, pulled his beard, and covered himself with
- meekness. I suggested to Mrs. Ulswater that there was a Cingalese point of
- view.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Surely,” Ram Nad, ineffably mild. “We say no more, excellent Mrs.
- Ulswater. Other orphans are elsewhere to be found and the vow
- accomplished. But now, if permitted, I go, and return soon with gifts of
- fruit plucked in the gardens of my house, that our happiness may be
- complete as the meeting of long-parted friends, pleasant as to the bee is
- the honey of the flower.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was all gammon about his house. He had no property except his trick
- outfit in a basket, his moderate but amusing clothes, and a lien on a
- cobblestone in the market. Mrs. Ulswater observed him quietly. I didn't
- make out what she thought of his handsome remarks.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was rowed ashore in the gig, and came back later in a misshaped
- Cingalese canoe, kilted fore and aft, with two coolies for rowers, who
- promptly departed. He fished pomegranates and pineapples out of his
- basket, and was very pleasant. He begged to be allowed to sleep on a deck
- rug beneath our palatial awning. He said it was the custom of the country.
- So it was, granted a rug and awning were handy. He talked a number of
- kinds of gammon, and he knew I knew it was gammon. But, then, I allowed
- that a Cingalese of his age and acquirements had a right to be
- mythological in his statements.
- </p>
- <p>
- Oh, Ram Nad, friend of my earlier days! I'm free to admit your standards
- of virtuous conduct were ever in some respects obscure, not to say too
- much for me.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XII—RAM NAD CONTINUED
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>Y family at
- midnight lay asleep in their staterooms. The Indian moon shone on the <i>Violetta</i>,
- which lay lifting slowly with the swell. The watchman sat forward. Ram
- Nad, with his chief garment wrapped about his head, was stretched on a rug
- on the lee side and just above the portholes of the stateroom occupied by
- Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was awakened by Mrs. Ulswater's suddenly pulling my arm. It was near
- three o'clock in the morning.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Listen!” she whispered. “Now, wait!” To my bewildered sense became now
- audible the sound of soft, regular steps in the outer cabin and on the
- cabin stairs leading to the deck. I arose softly.
- </p>
- <p>
- I saw Susannah in her long night garment, of Mrs. Ulswater's making,
- stiffly mounting the stairs with a military step! and beyond her, on the
- moonlit deck, whom but Ram Nad, white-bearded, blue-turbaned,
- white-garmented, beckoning, retreating! I was about to advance, when at
- that moment Mrs. Ulswater shrieked loudly in my ear, and Ram Nad, running
- forward, sharply shut and bolted the cabin door. An instant's silence
- followed, then shouts and swift feet running aft. I rushed to the
- port-hole. Past it and past my face went a swiftly falling and fluttering
- body, which splashed in the sea. Was it Ram Nad? Was it Susannah? Mrs.
- Ulswater was beating the door with her hands and crying: “Catch that man,
- Captain Jansen! Catch that man!” Distressing moment! Norah came from her
- room and mingled her voice in the tumult. But there we were, locked in.
- </p>
- <p>
- The cabin door was opened. Captain Jansen's comfortable bearded face
- appeared, “Yes, 'm. But he yump for das boat. He gone ofer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then catch the boat. Quick!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes'm. But I got das boat mit un grapple.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We all emerged on the warm night, on the moonlit deck. The women had
- donned their shawls. This was the situation.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad's misshaped and kilted canoe was held fast, and one end lifted
- from the water by a grappling-iron, at which a sailor was tugging with a
- rope over the rail. The two black heads of his rowers were just above the
- water at some distance, moving hastily shoreward, their wakes shining in
- the moonlight. Ram Nad was nowhere in sight. Susannah stood on deck, the
- watchman forward sat stiff and motionless—both of them rigid,
- frozen, mesmerised, wrapped up in his or her inner consciousness like a
- ball of yarn.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “He didn't get Susannah. Doctor, we must go
- away from this place. I don't like it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We can weigh anchor,” I said, “surely, now as well as any time. But, my
- dear, as to these ossified unfortunates, I don't quite see. I'm no Ph. D.
- Mahatma, nor yet a brindle cat, hell-broth witch. It's mortifying, but
- that's my limit. I'm not on to Ram Nad's spoon motion, nor yet his
- lullaby. Hadn't we better wait and find another magician that knows how to
- untwist the charm? Because Ram Nad appears to be drowned, and these two,
- according to my notion, are, as you might say, tied up particularly
- tight.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater tried to wake Susannah, but could not. She was indignant.
- She thought that I treated the subject too lightly, in language I ought to
- be ashamed of, that there was nothing funny about it. Maybe not. I gave it
- up. I thought the situation was not without a certain sepulchral but
- natural gayety.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ashamed” I take to be a vertebrate condition. I never could fetch it.
- It's left out of me. I've got no centre of personality, no angles to my
- circumference on which to hitch a conviction of sin, never could seem to
- get hold of that kind of embarrassment. Calling myself a series of
- conventionally derogatory and ineffective names is the nearest I can come
- to remorse. But speaking impersonally, no doubt Mrs. Ulswater was right.
- </p>
- <p>
- At this point Captain Jansen called: “He's yump in! Yes, 'm. He's yump!”
- </p>
- <p>
- We ran to the rail. There Ram Nad sat in his kilted canoe, wringing the
- water from his garments.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater said, “You come up here right away!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He seemed unwilling, but Captain Jansen dropped a rope ladder, and the
- sailor jerked on the grapnel, rendering his position untenable. He yielded
- and came, wearing an expression of injured meekness. He yielded to Mrs.
- Ulswater's command. He spooned and crooned Susannah and the watchman into
- normal condition, and retired hastily to some distance, holding on to his
- head cloth, avoiding Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater now reduced matters to order. The indignant Susannah was
- persuaded to bed. Ram Nad was put under guard. Mrs. Ulswater and Norah
- retired.
- </p>
- <p>
- The anchor was raised. The <i>Violetta</i> got under steam. We glided away
- into the Indian Ocean. I remained on deck reflecting, inhaling the soft
- breath of the dawn, gazing at the fair palace of the night,—how
- marvellously roofed and lit, how floored with sparkling mosaic,—considering
- two things which equally excited my admiration, namely, the constitution
- of this world and Mrs. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- I conversed with Ram Nad.
- </p>
- <p>
- As far as I could gather from Ram Nad, he had first gotten into
- conversation with the watch, and mesmerised that: Norwegian, after which
- he had hung himself down from the rail and mesmerised Susannah through the
- port-hole. A subtle performance! He did not dare enter the cabin, having a
- nervous fear of Mrs. Ulswater. Mrs. Ulswater's emphatic cry had roused the
- crew. He had plunged over, and, rising, clutched the edge of the boat;
- which being grappled and the coolies fled, he had submitted, first to
- concealment, then to capture. Now,—he continued,—were his
- excellent intentions frustrated, his purposes to instruct the damsel, who
- had intelligence and temperament suitable,—excepting that she was a
- female of a tiger and not respectful of elderly men,—to instruct her
- in wisdom, according to the Precept, to the end that people might behold
- him performing wonders, and his riches increase. But how then? The
- righteous man endeavours. But if frustrated, let him be content. Yet he
- could but wonder for what reason he was now being carried away,
- recklessly, from his native land.
- </p>
- <p>
- I didn't see, either, why we were carrying off Ram Nad, but it seemed to
- have points of interest. I didn't see any real objection to it. I
- suggested:
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't think that you ought to be skinned or drowned? Why not? It
- depends on Mrs. Ulswater's opinion. But see here, Ram Nad, if you ever try
- to mesmerise Susannah again, or anybody aboard, I'll see to the skinning
- privately. I'll insert Mrs. Ulswater's knitting needles into your
- digestion, Susannah shall stuff your mouth full of jackstraws and head
- cloth, and Mrs. Uls-water shall make a Presbyterian of your mangled
- remains. You hear me!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad took oath he would not.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S SECOND MANUSCRIPT
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">P</span>EACEFULLY we
- journey then over this balmy sea. My enlarged family is at peace,
- excepting Susannah. The meekness, the surprised interest of Ram Nad in us,
- in our purposes and his own situation, are irresistible, except to
- Susannah. Mrs. Ulswater seems to regard him as a sort of second orphan.
- Susannah resents this idea.
- </p>
- <p>
- We approach the Malay Peninsula. Ram Nad sits cross-legged on a rug,
- teaching Susannah the Pali alphabet. I read the English poets to Mrs.
- Ulswater, who sews garments for Susannah. So does Susannah, sometimes,
- with vicious jabs.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater does not attend to the reading. She has something on her
- mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dr. Ulswater,” she says at last, “is Ram Nad a well-educated man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear, he knows everything that I don't. Therefore he knows infinitely
- more than I do.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why shouldn't we bring up Susannah among us, instead of looking for an
- orphanage any more?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Perfectly possible.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why shouldn't we have a mission of our own on the <i>Violetta</i>,
- instead of hunting for other people's missions?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “An idea!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, then, we will.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A sort of floating mission,” I continue. “Fascinating, unique conception!
- That is, if pursued moderately. The orphans are a success, so far,
- including—with some reservations—Ram Nad. But I wouldn't
- invest too heavily, too rapidly, in orphans. I would take, in fact, some
- pains to get hold of preferred stock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She agrees thoughtfully: “Of course, the <i>Violetta</i> won't hold a
- great many. I should want nice ones. That's what you mean.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Precisely. For instance, Ram Nad is more interesting, perhaps, than those
- whom Susannah so forcibly described as inwardly composed of 'mush and
- dassent.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then that's what we'll do.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I think, then, with all deference to destiny, that we will.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have sometimes wondered,” I remark to Mrs. Ulswater, “just what our
- idea was in kidnapping Ram Nad—if it was quite accidental, or if we
- were not, on that occasion—shall we say?—in collusion with
- accident.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why”—Mrs. Ulswater returns to her sewing—“of course! I
- thought he wanted to steal Susannah. He wasn't a bit good at pretending.
- Goodness, no! But I didn't know how he was going to do it, so I asked
- Captain Jansen to stay awake below. But it would have been dreadful if Ram
- Nad had drowned. I just let him try, because, of course, I thought, after
- behaving so, he couldn't say much if we carried him off.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But why, at that time, did we want to carry him off?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was the pictures in the big Bible,” Mrs. Ulswater replies. “All the
- old men there look like him. I thought it would be nice to have him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Such is our situation. Here I float on Elysian seas. (My next article, on
- the Scaphopodae, will astonish the scientific world. My collection of
- Cephalopterae is now unique. I have proved three mistakes in Schmidt's
- classification of the Coelenterates.)
- </p>
- <p>
- Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- P. S.—Ram Nad begs to remain with us. He is inwardly composed of
- guile and gammon. Still, like Susannah, he is in a way a personage.
- </p>
- <p>
- But suppose Mrs. Ulswater learns Oriental mesmerism of Ram Nad, and
- supplements—quite unnecessarily—by this means, her government
- of me. I should protest: “No, Mrs. Ulswater! Not while I know myself
- master of this household!”
- </p>
- <p>
- P. P. S.—Suppose she insists!
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIV—DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: THE ISLAND OF LUA
- </h2>
- <p>
- South Pacific, <i>January.</i>
- </p>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>RS. ULSWATER has
- collected more orphans.
- </p>
- <p>
- There are, without doubt, many methods of selecting the beneficiaries of a
- mission, asylum, home for curables or incurables, or similar foundation.
- Mrs. Ulswater's favourite method seems to be what one of the new orphans
- calls “a coopdeetat,” but she denies any such preference. She says “It
- happens so.” That may be, and yet I have a feeling—a marital
- weakness perhaps—that she has a sort of pull, a secret
- understanding, so to speak, with circumstances. With the bait foresight,
- and the rod discretion, she catches the trout accident.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater, who first established over me a kind of Monroe Doctrine,
- forbidding to other powers the annexation of any territorial portion of
- me, followed it up by a species of suzerainty controlling foreign
- relations; which having developed into something resembling the German
- Empire,—that is, nominally an alliance, practically a solid entity
- of control,—therein I rest, on the whole, patriotic and pleased.
- </p>
- <p>
- A month ago my family consisted of Mrs. Ulswater, Norah the maid, Susannah
- the orphan, Georgiana the hen,—both from the island of Clementina,—and
- Ram Nad, a Cingalese pundit and fakeer, whom Mrs. Ulswater had collected
- cavalierly—I admit, cavalierly,—who, after the learning of his
- race, practised medicine, hypnotism, and sleight of hand; whose medical
- ideas were ridiculous, his magic good, his status as an orphan an
- acceptable probability; whose chief property was his wicker basket, shaped
- like a truncated cone, with a flat cover on top, his vade-mecum, his
- universal container.
- </p>
- <p>
- All things he put into it, and there they disappeared. Many things he took
- out of it. He was a bully magician, and looked something like a prophet
- and something like a lamb.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater was originally interested in foreign missions. Out of this
- interest she developed a mission of her own. Her purpose was to employ the
- <i>Violetta</i> as a migratory orphan asylum, or mobile base of
- operations, from which to scatter regenerative ideas; to sail about
- picking up casual orphans perhaps, introducing neatness, good habits, and
- practical housekeeping to the Pacific Ocean, rearranging haply its
- populations and politics; a sort of slumming on the high seas, an oceanic
- College Settlement. A stupendous idea! The Pacific Ocean was much in need
- of Mrs. Ulswater. It is a loose, untidy ocean, a “Bohemian” ocean with its
- far scattered islands, lunging seas, and idle solitudes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Brooms,” Mrs. Ulswater said, speaking of the islanders, “brooms, soap,
- and taking pains, are what they need.”
- </p>
- <p>
- An ominous phrase, “taking pains”! Is it a fact that not enough pains are
- thrust upon us in the normal course of events, that we must acquire
- “pains”?
- </p>
- <p>
- I stumped Mrs. Ulswater with that question. Hadn't mankind enough pains
- without taking pains? She said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Kanakas haven't,” and then reflected. “People,” she said, “never got
- civilised by having a good time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I fear that proposition is sound.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XV—SADLER
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he festival of
- Christmas was approaching. Susannah was greatly excited over the
- preparations. Mrs. Ulswater was making mince pies. Ram Nad—whose
- opinion of himself is that he is an astral and unworldly soul, while Mrs.
- Ulswater's is that he differs from all heathen described in the missionary
- quarterlies, and my own is that he is as full of gammon as an eggshell is
- full of egg—Ram Nad was taking no interest in mince pies. For
- myself, in the tropics, I would as soon have eaten a pound of bent
- whalebone, or a swarm of congealed bees, as a mince pie, whose inward
- action upon me would, I was sure, be similar to that of resilient
- whalebone or thawed-out bees; and therefore, although interested in mince
- pies, I yet regarded the subject with a certain,—shall I say?—anxiety.
- It was under these circumstances that we sighted, approached, and at
- length took anchorage at the island of Lua.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was not an unknown Pacific Island, nor yet well-known. The date of its
- discovery, its size, inhabitants and products will not be found stated in
- a school geography, but a good chart will show its location. Whether or
- not there were any white men there I did not know, but thought it likely.
- There is a considerable and curious drifting white population in the South
- Pacific. The Caucasian is ubiquitous. There is a restless germ in his
- blood, unknown to the Oriental and mysterious to himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- A numerous village of wattled huts stretched along the white beach of the
- bay where we came to anchor. I have been not a little here and there in
- the South Pacific in my time, but never before on the island of Lua. Its
- blue and lilac mountains in panorama,—white threads of falling water
- on their steeps,—its nearer hills, palmy and green and like moss in
- the softening distance, the smooth lacquered water in the bay, the beach,
- the little brown huts with domed roofs of leafy thatch, truly all seemed
- at peace. A few people came down to the beach to observe us, and presently
- a boat put out,—not one of the native outriggers, but a dumpy little
- ship's dinghy. With the aid of a glass I made out that the occupants were
- two white men.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of the two men, who now came aboard the <i>Violetta</i>, the foremost was
- a tall, bony, swing-shouldered powerful man, with a melancholy
- countenance, dangling gray moustache, whitish hair, lean throat,
- remarkably large hands, and a husky voice, who carried a banjo swung by a
- cord around his neck; the other was plainly a Hibernian, stoop-shouldered,
- his hair and whiskers forming a circular, complete, and resplendent
- aureole around his face, at the centre of which aurora a short black
- tobacco pipe was firmly inserted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do?” said the bony stranger, mournfully, and then casting his eyes
- down on the <i>Violetta</i>'s deck, he stopped and gazed.
- </p>
- <p>
- On the flowered carpet under the neat awning sat Mrs. Ulswater as usual
- with her workbasket beside her, her knitting in her hand; there were the
- rocking chairs with their doilies, some geranium pots along the scuppers,
- and some lashed to the awning supports; there sat that venerable
- Cingalese, Ram Nad, with his magic-basket beside him; Susannah held
- Georgians Tupper in her lap.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't seem to get my vest around your combination,” said the bony one,
- observing this domestic scene. “Is it waxworks, or pirates?” He looked
- worried about it. “My name's Sadler,” he continued, “and this yere
- conflagration behind me is named Irish or Jimmie Hagan, just as you like.
- We'd be pleased to know you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- This sounded ingratiating, though his countenance was melancholy.
- Presently he sat in one of the doilied rocking chairs, with his feet
- tucked away behind him, and he seemed easy-going in his talk, and candid
- as to his history.
- </p>
- <p>
- He had been a sailor once, as it seemed, on a smuggling or filibustering
- ship along South American coasts, and after that had lived in the city of
- Portate, South America, and from there he had gotten himself banished on
- account of his interest in romantic politics, and gone to California, and
- made money in some kind of Oriental trade; but lately he had been in
- Burmah professionally, that is to say, his profession there had been that
- of a sort of high priest, a species of abbot of a kind of monastery; and
- after that in Sumatra. But a month or more since he had dropped on Lua.
- The island had interested him by its romantic politics. He had resolved to
- “take a hand in that seducing game, which it looked real sporty,” he said,
- “and I judged the showdown was coming soon, but it hasn't yet, and it's
- been rolling up the blankedest jackpot you ever saw.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What!” said Mrs. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Beg pardon, ma'am. I shouldn't have swore, but them's the facts.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What are the facts?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Sadler looked worried.
- </p>
- <p>
- “May I,” I said, “venture to suggest that your terms are perhaps a trifle
- technical, or—shall I say?—a trifle remote. Let me explain to
- Mrs. Ulswater that by a 'showdown' is intended merely the decision of a
- given issue; that a 'jackpot,' as such, may be defined as an accumulation
- of undecided issues.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why,” said Sadler, “you see, doctor, it's this way. Your ideas about
- technical language and mine don't jibe with each other, and I'll bet my
- last week's shirt to yours of the week before, Mrs. Ulswater's idea ain't
- agreeable with either of us on which point my own opinion was similar to
- his, and I regretfully let pass that interesting wager.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well!” said Mrs. Ulswater again; “What are the facts?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Sadler then described the politics of Lua, in a voice slow, husky, and
- bereaved.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Some years ago,” he said, “a friend of mine, who was a white man named
- Craney, was king of Lua, for he bought out the different candidates, or
- pooled the interests, or something, and mounted the throne himself.
- Anyhow, he was killed in a ruction. It occurred to me to come around this
- way, which happened about a month back, to ask Craney for the job of Prime
- Minister, but I found he was dead, and the place seemed to me then on the
- edge of another dynastic war. There was a young chap named Kolosama, who
- was the son of the king who succeeded Craney, and there was an old chap
- named Ogelomano, who claimed the throne by right of superior wisdom, with
- some other complicated rights, and relations, by which it appeared he
- ought to have been king before. Awful names, ain't they? Well, this yere
- royalty appeared to be partly hereditary, partly elective, and mostly
- revolutionary, which is all very well, but hard feeling inside of families
- is vicious. That's my opinion. Kolo had the largest backing, but Ogel had
- the superior wisdom, as appeared from this: namely, he immejitly laid
- himself out to get the support of the newly arrived combination of
- military genius, statecraft, and diplomacy—that's me. Arguing with a
- scrupulous conscience, then, I comes to this conclusion; I says: 'The
- first requirement for a happy kingdom is a forehanded king; the next is a
- superior Prime Minister; which it's clear from the behaviour of this party
- that he knows what's what, and it's clear from the behaviour of the other
- party that he ain't got no real penetration at all; nor he ain't onto the
- points of royalty, or he'd know that a kingdom without a Prime Minister is
- as unhappy as a cat with no dog to chase her, which anybody but a fool
- knows; and consequently this yere Kolosama is unfit to rule this balmy
- isle, and this yere Ogel is a promising monarch. That's my opinion.' I
- stated that argument to Ogel, and he agreed that was a tart argument all
- right, and I was a Prime Minister sent by the gods. Then Ogel and Irish
- and I, we went over till we come to the palace, which is built of bamboo
- and all on the ground floor, but else-wise is a commojous mansion, and
- chuck full of Craney's furnishings; and we discharged artillery from the
- front door, to let folks know we was on the throne. Then Kolosama
- collected his party, and went off to the other side of the island, and
- declared war. Then we called him, on the chance it was a bluff. So it was,
- and so was ours. Neither of us showed down. That's how it is. Me and Irish
- with Ogel's warriors, and Kolosama with his warriors, have been prancing
- forth over these picturesque mountains like we intended to be real
- vicious, and dodging back till the island's near distracted. We've got the
- wisdom and foresight, and we got all Craney's firearms by the coopdee-tat,
- but Kolo appears to have a majority of the foolish population with him
- just now, and there you are. There's your jackpot, which me and Kolo are
- playing for. I haven't got the hand to open it, or to do anything but
- jockey for position, for Kolo's got most of the warriors. I don't know
- what's the matter with him, unless his warriors don't like gunpowder.
- Maybe his hand's weaker than it looks, but I'd bet something if I held it,
- this jackpot would be opened.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What sort of a man is Ogelomano?” I asked, when Sadler paused.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fat and sulky,” he said; “but I've seen worse. I've seen homelier looking
- men too, somewhere, but I've forgotten where that was. Maybe it was in a
- nightmare. For that matter Kolo's all right enough too. I guess the island
- would be happy with either, were t'other dear charmer away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Sadler stopped and rubbed his chin gloomily, and said: “Nice outfit of
- yours. Waxwork pirates, maybe?”
- </p>
- <p>
- I explained the purposes and mission of the <i>Violetta</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Floating orphan asylum,” said Sadler, “sort of perambulating benevolence,
- and steam-propulsion mission house, to teach temperateness to the tropics.
- Why, that's all right. A chap that wants to pad his soul with good deeds,
- and go to sleep on his benevolence like a downy bed, why, he's got a good
- proposition. I've done it myself, and it worked, more or less. But I
- always got restless.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He began thrumming distressful and complaining chords on his banjo, looked
- off to sea with a dreamy expression, until presently he raised a tune that
- never should have existed, and sang to it in a voice like that of a walrus
- with a cold:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ I want to be an orphan,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And with the orphans roam,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- A millionaire my guardian,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- A steam yacht for my home—-
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- “Doctor,” he said, huskily; “it's this way. You've come to the right shop
- with those goods. Yere's your chance for benevolence. If you'd steam
- around to the other side of Lua, and find Kolo, which I could spot his
- location for you pretty near; and if you'd ladle him out some of that
- there benevolence, and tell him you were his long-lost aunt that was
- thinking of giving him some toy firearms, maybe he'd come aboard. I
- shouldn't wonder. But if he brought any warriors with him, you'd better
- make him send them ashore to wash their faces, which they'll need it all
- right. Then if you happened to get up steam and sail away with him, and
- took him to the States, and give him a college education, and sent me the
- bill, why, I'd send a draft on San Francisco for any amount in reason.
- Why, see yere, doctor, that scheme is neat surely, and benevolent to hatch
- eggs, ain't it? Yere you leave the island of Lua with its politics smooth
- as milk, and a forehanded king whose policy is guided by an unequalled
- Prime Minister, in the direction of single matrimony and a vegetarian
- diet. Consider that strategy! Regard it! Look at it all around! Remark the
- moral purpose! Catch onto its simplicity of design! Why, it's a wonder!” I
- looked at Mrs. Ulswater, who had said nothing during the above, but sat
- there sewing, and sometimes glancing up at Sadler. Now she laid down her
- sewing and said: “Are you sure the island would be better off if one of
- the kings were taken away?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure, ma'am! Why, look at it! You can see for yourself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course it would look so. But then, is Kolosama a nice person? We don't
- like to take orphans without knowing about them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll tell you on the square, ma'am,” said Sadler, “Kolo ain't bright, or
- he'd have called me before now. He's slow. He's plodding. Moreover he's
- self-willed and opinionated. He don't take to prime ministers, or official
- advice. He needs discipline, and he needs encouragement. And yet I'd call
- him a promising kid, and a hopeful orphan. He'd be a credit to you. Yes'm.
- No doubt of it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater took up her knitting and said, “I should like to see the
- older king first.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you'll come up to the palace to-morrow,” said Sadler, “the old man'd
- be pleased to see you. You've no notion how he'd like Kolo to have a
- foreign education.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He gathered up his large frame, murmured, “Piratical waxworks!” and
- departed, together with Irish, who silently smoked his short black pipe.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVI—AT THE PALACE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T seemed to me
- that a Prime Minister who composed poetry impromptu and played the banjo,
- was a species never yet examined and classified by me. But as to
- Kolosama's entry into my family circle, it seemed to me the selection of
- orphans should be made only on strong recommendations.
- </p>
- <p>
- The next morning Mrs. Ulswater, Susannah, and I started. A well-trodden
- path led through the forest, and at the end of a few miles came out into a
- pleasant valley, where lay a scattered village of huts for the most part
- small, fragile, and consisting generally of a woven roof, posts to support
- it, and an occasional mat between posts. The palace was easily
- distinguished, standing in a grove on a hill, a long one-storied bamboo
- house, surrounded by piazzas. Evidently it had been built by a white man.
- In some odd way it suggested the States.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sadler met us in the village, and brought us to his own dwelling, which
- stood at the foot of the palace hill. I judged it had been furnished from
- the palace with properties of King Craney. It included five bamboo huts
- adjoining each other.
- </p>
- <p>
- A Kanaka servant, who stood by the door of one of them, shrieked and
- vanished. That hut seemed to be the kitchen. A cat of faded and depressed
- appearance replaced the Kanaka in the doorway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, please!” cried Susannah, “May I have that cat?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dolores is her name,” said Sadler, looking dreamily at the cat, “which
- she likes to sleep on pies. She's got a heart sorrow, sort of indigestion
- of the spirit, same as me. Some of it comes from dissipation, some of it
- on account of sleeping in the oven on pies, which has varieties of climate
- pretty stiff, so she's got a seared and wasted look, as you might say.
- Besides,” he added after a moment's thought, “she ain't got no dog to
- chase her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Goodness!” said Mrs. Ulswater, looking into the kitchen. “Isn't it
- awful!”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was down on Sadler's housekeeping to an extent you'd hardly believe.
- Still, it must be admitted that the weeds growing over the floor made his
- kitchen look like a pasture lot, and that the kitchen windows were
- somewhat untidy on account of the Kanaka cook throwing slops at them from
- a distance. There was coffee in a china vase, and tobacco in the teapot.
- There was a hen laying an egg in the soup tureen, which fitted her very
- neatly and snugly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Please!” cried Susannah again, “May I have this cat?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure!” said Sadler. “It ain't good for her here. She gets bad habits
- living along of me. Any cat would that lived along of me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We went up to the palace. It was furnished profusely with the kind of
- things that seem stuffy in the tropics, for the lamented royalty called
- Craney seemed to have had a taste for plush-covered chairs, red-flowered
- carpets, portières with fringes and tassels, glass-bangled lamps, and
- gilded clocks. For the clocks King Ogel seemed to share King Craney's
- weakness. I counted fourteen clocks in the audience room, all going but
- three. The king sat on a plush sofa among his clocks, fanning himself. The
- largest and gildedest clock stood on the floor in front of him.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was an elderly man, stout and unwieldy, of morose expression, his
- complexion inferior, and his grizzled hair stuck full of chicken bones. He
- wore a pink shirt without a collar, a shell necklace, and a kind of skirt
- that seemed to have been formerly a lace window curtain. Sadler introduced
- us. The king grunted, “How do,” and we sat down on the plush chairs and
- discussed Sadler's scheme. Sadler expatiated on the highly moral qualities
- in it, the peace that would fall on the distracted island, when Kolo was
- thus removed strategically and for his own best welfare. The king looked
- pleased. His pleasure seemed to arouse his hospitality, and his
- hospitality was startling. He rose, shouted, and stamped. From far piazzas
- came scuttling, came running, brown men and women bearing baskets and
- platters; in the baskets was fruit, in the platters fish cooked most
- messily, and other articles of diet indescribable, which I had no
- curiosity to taste. But I thought Mrs. Ulswater seemed favourably
- impressed with the king.
- </p>
- <p>
- Now fell the hour of ten, and the clocks broke out striking noisily.
- </p>
- <p>
- Over the king's face passed an expression of unutterable delight. His
- heavy cheeks wrinkled into smiles. He thumped his chest and chuckled. He
- turned from clock to clock, keeping his eye in particular on the great
- gilt clock at his feet, from whose ornate front no sound as yet was come.
- </p>
- <p>
- The clocks all ceased. But the great gilt clock had not struck.
- </p>
- <p>
- Suddenly as a crash of thunder the king passed from chuckling happiness to
- anger, violent and uncontrolled. He clambered to his feet. He stamped. He
- swore in the language of beach combers and decayed mariners, inexcusable,
- abominable. He shook his fists at Sadler.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My clock don' go!” he shrieked. “Arrr! She don' go!” and snatching up a
- fruit basket, he fell, in utter and abandoned rage, beating, kicking,
- yelling, swearing, scattering fruit, upon the frightened and
- frizzle-haired henchmen and henchwomen, who fled with tumult and wailing,
- from room to room, from piazza to far piazza, and beyond into the forest,
- where the noise of pursuit died distantly away.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was amazed. Mrs. Ulswater sprang up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is <i>that</i> a king!” she said indignantly, and started for the piazza
- followed by myself, by Susannah with the cat, and by Sadler in
- deprecation. “He ought to be spanked! That's what he ought,” said Mrs.
- Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're right, ma'am,” said Sadler. “Ain't a doubt it would be a good
- thing, and I was thinking, when you spoke, as how, when Kolo was gone and
- things was settled, I'd just get that introduced quiet like into the
- regular court ceremonial, putting it under the heading of 'Official Care
- of the King's Person,' which I was thinking, ma'am, as how it was my
- recollection a strap got there better'n a shingle. Yes'm.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater stopped on the edge of the porch, mollified.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Would you really do that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes'm.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” she said, “if you'll catch that king and bring him down to tea
- this evening, we'll think it over by that time. Goodness! How do you know
- Kolo is any better?” And we returned to the <i>Violetta</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVII—MRS. ULSWATER TAKES ACTION
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>ADLER came down
- late in the afternoon, and with him little Irish and King Ogel. If Mrs.
- Ulswater was expecting a contrite king, she was disappointed. He strutted
- across the deck in front of a bodyguard of three huge warriors, whose garb
- and outfit were more ferocious than ornamental, more ornamental than
- decorous, and more ornamental in intention than in result. He was
- unashamed. His misbehaviour had left no traces on his complacence. He was
- impertinently vain of that terrific bodyguard. I noticed Mrs. Ulswater's
- expression become suddenly set and determined. I knew the king's
- complacence irritated her, his unrepented misbehaviour roused her instinct
- for discipline. Something was going to happen. I looked at the warriors. I
- wished it might not be something that would cause the introduction into my
- anxious digestive organism of those shovel-headed spears, unpleasant
- objects, nay, surely indigestible. I hoped for the best. I was calm but
- expectant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Doctor,” said Mrs. Ulswater, “when kings are invited to tea, don't people
- have entertainments for them?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Invariably! Music and dancing!” I exclaimed, delighted, relieved at the
- turn Mrs. Ulswater's intentions seemed to be taking. “Daughters of
- Herodias—hem—I mean to say you are quite right. No barbaric
- potentate can swallow his victuals without some agreeable distraction.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course we haven't any of those things,” she said, and looked
- thoughtfully at Ram Nad, who was squatted near on the flowered carpet,
- “but if Ram Nad should hypnotise the king's men, don't you think it would
- amuse him?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She pointed to the bodyguards. I thought it would. Ram Nad consented.
- </p>
- <p>
- Venerable and unappalled, he drew near, sat down in front of the guards,
- and began his monotonous chant and circuitous gesturing before their
- stolid faces, whose stationary expressions and complexions variegated with
- tattoo were unmoved by Ram Nad's odd behaviour. Slowly those
- copper-skinned and impassive spearmen in ornamental outfit keeled over and
- lay stretched and rigid, mute symbols of barbarism, promiscuously
- prostrate, frozen ferocities, motionless images of war. A whirl of Ram
- Nad's hand, and they rolled, tumbled, turning promiscuity into chaos,
- across the deck, and brought up in the scuppers among the geranium pots.
- There lay shields and spears, sprawling legs and tattooed faces, grotesque
- and horrific, among the brown earthenware pots, the round velvety leaves
- and small red petals of that plant so familiar in the cleanly windows of
- our native land.
- </p>
- <p>
- The king was delighted. He thumped his chest, and laughed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jimmie Hagan took his pipe out of his mouth, profoundly astonished.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sadler murmured “Waxworks!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “More!” the king commanded, doubled over with laughter. “More!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He wanted the bodyguard tumbled down the companionway, but Mrs. Ulswater
- wouldn't allow it. The king turned sulky. Language rumbled in his throat
- preparing to be shrieked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater; “As if I'd let those things into my
- parlour! Have them tumbled down the gangway if you want to.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The king brightened up. Infatuated man, he did not see—he had no
- inkling of—the danger that lurked in Mrs. Ulswater's set mouth and
- determined expression. I could have warned him, but refrained. Clearly she
- was right about the incongruity of fully armed and half-naked warriors
- precipitated down stairs into parlours. One feels the impropriety of it.
- </p>
- <p>
- While Ram Nad, at the king's boisterous order, was extricating the
- warriors from the geranium pots, and while Mrs. Ulswater went forward and
- was talking with Captain Jansen, I was thinking it impossible that she
- meant to allow the bodyguard to be sent helplessly overboard, inhumanely,
- to the great peril of drowning. I was about to intervene, when I saw Mrs.
- Ulswater return, followed, to my surprise, by Captain Jansen and the crew.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There!” she said, pointing; “Be quick!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Judge of my astonishment, when Captain Jansen and our muscular crew fell
- upon Sadler, Hagan, and King Ogel, and jerking each backward, proceeded to
- tie them hands and feet.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Murther!” said Hagan. “Murther,” he repeated more mildly, and then, “Hand
- up that poipe.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Susannah cried, “Goody!” and rushed about. She was distracted by all that
- wealth of curious phenomena, and the scattered arrangement of objects of
- interest.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Pirates!” shouted Sadler. After one huge lunge he subsided, and laughed.
- He thundered with husky merriment and unseasonable mirth.
- </p>
- <p>
- The humiliated and outraged monarch began eloquently, but Captain Jansen
- clapped his hand over and corked up the royal anathema. They carried King
- Ogel forward. My impression is that Captain Jansen used a strap, varied,
- perhaps, at intervals, by a board, to impress upon him Mrs. Ulswater's
- opinion. We heard of him, for the time being, no more.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tie up those Kanakas!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “Now, Ram Nad, wake them up.
- Now, they must be taken ashore. Captain Jansen, you must get up steam.
- Untie Mr. Sadler and Mr. Hagan. There!”
- </p>
- <p>
- She sat down, rocked nervously, and took up her knitting again. Sadler's
- laughter had ceased. We both looked at her. We wondered and waited.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well!” she said at last defiantly,—as the sound of oarlocks told of
- the boats drawing away shoreward, loaded with disentranced but well-roped,
- disarmed, bewildered warriors,—“I don't know what you think, but I
- think Ogel would have been a dreadful king, and from what Mr. Sadler said,
- I think Kolo will do better. Besides, it's easier to carry off the one
- that's handy, instead of running after the other, isn't it? Of course it
- is.” She added a moment later, “Of course, Mr. Sadler, you needn't come
- away unless you like, but you said you didn't get on with the other king,
- and I thought it would please Dr. Ulswater. I know he enjoys your
- company.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Sadler wiped his eyes and sighed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I ain't been dished up so green and tasty, like a salad,” he said, “since
- me and Moses and Pharaoh used to play draw poker, and Moses kept special
- providences up his sleeve, nor I ain't had such a good time since the last
- time I was licked for stealing horehound candy; which my recollection,
- ma'am, is in favour of straps rather'n shingles. It's all right. Lua's too
- small for me. You can't stretch nights without kicking other families out
- of bed, which makes reverberating scandals. If you sit down, you squash
- the judiciary; if you get up, you shake the throne. This civil war's no
- good. Why,
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- What's a war without no slaughter?
- </p>
- <p class="indent30">
- I'd rather be at
- </p>
- <p class="indent30">
- A Coopdetat
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- By Mrs. James Ulswater.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater went below. Her nerves were perhaps a trifle upset. Not so
- Susannah. But Susannah was young. She sniffed the battle of life. She
- thrilled to the keynote of action. She fell upon Jimmie Hagan with eager
- inquiry as to his precise feelings throughout the late excitement. Sadler
- and myself stood watching the landing of the spearmen.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't mind going with us?” I asked him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Me? No! I'll have to get even with you sometime or be restless. I ain't
- up to abducting Mrs. Ulswater nor Susannah, but I'll lay for you, doctor.
- You'd better put Jimmie on the crew. He's a good seaman. I'll be a guest,
- or a passenger, or an orphan, anything you like. Why, look yere, doctor.
- Mrs. Ulswater's been and took me out of temptation to stamp on my
- fellowman, and I'm grateful. She's given me a chance at innocence. Why, my
- fellowman's always lying around in my way, and I keep stepping on him, and
- kicking holes in his garments when he has any, and bumps on him where he
- hasn't, and then I goes off to eat sackcloth and ashes, and wear bread and
- water. That's mostly the monotonous way of it. But the point that gets me
- is this: I recommend an orphan, and she thinks that'll do for a king; I
- recommend a king, and she has him spanked for an orphan. Now, if a
- candidate for a throne ought to qualify that way, maybe he ought; but I
- never heard of it before, which is why you see me dished for a salad.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So departed the <i>Violetta</i> from the island of Lua. May its politics
- have peace!
- </p>
- <p>
- The knock-out drops which Ram Nad kept in the ends of his fingers, on the
- whole, had worked better than mine, and Mrs. Uls-water's logic had been,
- as ever, penetrative, precise, practical.
- </p>
- <p>
- The preparations for celebrating Christmas were resumed. My anxieties
- returned. I confided them to Sadler. I said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is my fixed opinion, that for revelry and sorrow, for a taste of
- Eden's rapturous but snaky joys, a mince pie in the tropics lays over most
- things.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, look yere, doctor,” he said. “That there king's got a tempestuous
- liver that can't be downed, and he likes pies. The king 'll eat it, sure,
- he'll eat it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVIII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S THIRD MANUSCIPT
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> LYRICAL poem
- composed by Sadler, and by him sung inharmoniously to a banjo:—
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “I'm, so to speak, shanghaied to sea;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And who you think my shipmates be?
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- One family of millionaires,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Rambling the deep in search of heirs;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- One hypnotiser Oriental;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- One orphan maiden ornamental;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- One widowed cat; one spinster hen;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- A crew of blue-eyed Swedish men;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- One head of hair too hot for wearing;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- One captive monarch spanked for swearing—
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- is not what you would call amethystine or ethereal; but poetry, of a kind,
- we have come to expect of him. But when Susannah brought me a ballad,
- composed by herself, on the foregoing events, it produced in my mind—and
- I speak moderately—a state of exhausting confusion. I copy this
- ballad. It is entitled “The Kings of Lua.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- 'There were two kings in Lua,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Which only could use one.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Now Sadler came from Sumatra
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And needed some more fun.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “He was a white man, although
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- He was not exactly white,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- But tanned and played on the banjo.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Which angels would delight.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “He said, 'Prime Ministers are good things,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And I'm one of those things, Hooroar!
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- I'll bet my last week s shirt, O Kings:
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- To yours of the week before.'
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “The old King wore a pink one neat,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- But not much else did wear.
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- His face looked something like mince meat.
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Some bones were in his hair.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “Another man was Irish,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And I will make a joke,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- His hair it was so fierish,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- That always he did smoke.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “The other King we never saw;
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- He didn't come to tea.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Oh, wretched island of Lua
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I weep and wail for thee.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ So then they had a war,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Although they never fought.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- 'There's something ails this civil war,'
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Said Sadler, 'I wonder what.'
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “Ha! Ha! The <i>Violetta</i>
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Came sailing in one day.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Ogel and Sadler and Irish
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- We yanked and took away.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “About Lua now it is now known,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I'll tell you what I think.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I think Kolo ran up the throne
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- As quick as he could wink.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent30">
- Yours—ULSWATER.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /> <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIX—DR. ULSWATER'S NARRATIVE CONTINUES: THE MYSTERY OF
- GEORGIANA AND DELORES
- </h2>
- <p>
- Samoa. <i>March</i>.
- </p>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N respect to
- incisive logic, decision, and force, I have sometimes thought that
- Susannah resembles Mrs. Ulswater. The characters of both, in contact with
- my temperament, produce a harmony, thrilling but agreeable. But then my
- temperament is a kettle drum. I have sometimes thought that on a
- temperament more lute-like, the impact of Susannah might produce—shall
- I say?—surprise. On the temperament of Sadler,—melancholy and
- yet buoyant, intricate and yet simple,—the impact of Susannah seems
- to produce sometimes extraordinary jubilation, sometimes a condition quite
- the reverse. He calls her “a melojous circus,” a phrase implying
- jubilation.
- </p>
- <p>
- He is a man of moods, a contrast to the consistent placidity of Ram Nad,
- the Occident to the Orient. Are they then supersignificant types of that
- new world and that old? One of them turns to life's mystery a bold but
- troubled face, and covers with a jocular and careless manner a soul
- unreconciled. The toil and restless wandering of individuals, the surging
- migration of races, the incessant change called progress, are all but the
- symptoms of his feverish discomfort, his cosmic ill adjustment? And the
- other, the Ram Nads, the old-world type, meek, timid, tricky, placid, has
- it found at least, out of its age-long thoughts, how to make its truckling
- peace with the mystery? C'est un grand peut-être. Meanwhile the education
- of Susannah is the principal enterprise of Mrs. Ulswater, Sadler, and me,
- to say nothing of Ram Nad.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was my habit to read aloud from the poets, the divine Shelley, the
- noble Tennyson, the golden Keats. Susannah's opinion of these poets was,
- on the whole, scornful.
- </p>
- <p>
- They appeared to her tortuous and deceitful. Their language was, she
- thought, “mussy.” She did not believe they stated the facts.
- </p>
- <p>
- Hence, if any one had asked me sometime ago whether I thought it possible
- or likely that Susannah would bud, bloom, burst loose and explode into
- song, I should have said: “No! Impossible! Susannah has all the materials
- of strident criticism, but none of poesy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Nevertheless here lies her “Ballad of the Kings of Lua.” Here lies
- moreover her tragic and profound “Ballad of Georgiana and Dolores.” What
- can be said of them? First, this; that I take the immediate cause of
- Susannah's explosion to have been Sadler. He has the lyric habit. He
- composes as a rooster crows, whenever it occurs to him. He is apt to state
- his mind in that form. The lyric habit is infectious; youth is imitative;
- hence arise schools of poetry; hence Susannah's explosion. But Susannah's
- gift is for the narrative, the reflective. She has not the lyric cry. Hers
- rather are the forceful expression and the just remark.
- </p>
- <p>
- We left King Ogel at Sydney. He was pensioned by Sadler. He will probably
- pass his remaining years in intemperate leisure. Mrs. Ulswater did not
- think there was any prospect of working his reformation. He was not a
- desirable orphan. My opinion was that Susannah was occupation enough for
- an orphanage.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of Georgiana Tupper, that reserved, that exclusive hen from the island of
- Clementina, and of Dolores, that stricken cat from Lua, I am about to
- speak.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was the 13th of February. We were steaming eastward somewhat to the
- south of the Loyalty Islands. The weather had been oppressive, the night
- turned threatening, and by morning it was blowing a gale. I went on deck
- to watch the watery phenomena. The sea was tumultuous and black, the
- clouds overhead hung low and rainy, and the intense wind trailed streamers
- of cloud across the sea.
- </p>
- <p>
- Suddenly, as I stood there, a tall black column of water rose directly
- ahead of the <i>Violetta</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- She swerved aside in answer to her helm, narrowly escaped disaster; and
- that contorted and insurgent object, that careening maelstrom, and
- insensate Charybdis, that water spout, went whirling by on the port side.
- </p>
- <p>
- But now, behold! the sea all about was columned with water spouts,
- mushroom-shaped, their summits lost in eddying gloom—infuriate
- smoke-stacks, roaring volcanoes waltzing on end—perpendicular and
- intoxicated whales, bowelless of compassion, active and voracious—gyrating
- black funnels of wind and water, full of exuberant malice, full of demons
- of the nethermost deep striving to climb the pendant and embattled
- heavens. Between the shattered sea and low curtaining clouds, rumbled
- about us that tremendous warfare. Now and again a spout would fall, broken
- like a pipe stem near its base, and another heave up, grip the vapourish
- canopy above it, and come racing over that chaotic ocean; through the
- midst of which forest of fluid insanity and monstrous fungi of the sea—even
- as through some vast cavern columned with maniac stalagmites and abandoned
- pillars of wet combustion—we fled.
- </p>
- <p>
- How long this condition of affairs lasted, I could not say. How we
- escaped, Heaven and Captain Jansen may know. The seas now and again swept
- the deck.
- </p>
- <p>
- When we found ourselves at last with no water spouts anywhere near, and
- the upper and lower world reasonably disconnected, Sadler and I went
- below, where we found Mrs. Ulswater nervous, Susannah excited, Ram Nad
- calm as a browsing cow. We discussed the experience. By night the weather
- was fairly calm. Not till then did we find that Dolores and Georgiana
- Tupper were missing.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the forecastle, it had been supposed that they were aft; in the cabin,
- that they were forward. They were nowhere. The minutest search was in
- vain. From one end of the yacht to the other we went—from deck to
- keel. None could remember having noticed them, except Ram Nad, who stated
- that he had seen them on deck before the tumult arose. No doubt remained
- then. They were gone. What could be said? What interpretation could be put
- upon it? What other than this? that in endeavouring to pass, during the
- storm, from the forecastle to the cabin, or vice versa, they had been
- blown or swept overboard.
- </p>
- <p>
- But why both? How, in particular, Dolores? Georgiana was but a hen; a hen
- can be swept or blown; her anchorage is weak, her sail area apt to enlarge
- with the wind; whereas Dolores was a cat, carrying four to five anchors to
- each foot, and a sail area small under all circumstances. What force then
- could have torn loose her desperate grapple? unless it were—a
- pathetic possibility here—that, seeing Georgiana, the companion and
- support of her bereaved existence, thus blown away, she had rushed
- devotedly to her rescue; or—a still more affecting thought—that,
- simply resolved not to outlive Georgiana but to perish with her, she had
- cast herself after Georgiana upon the weltering deep.
- </p>
- <p>
- When this last idea occurred to me, I sought Susannah and turned it over
- to her. The first effect was unfortunate. Tearful, at the time, she burst
- out weeping. Mrs. Ulswater said I ought to be ashamed. Sadler, with
- mournful sarcasm, did not see why a man, because he was full of ideas, had
- to slop over like a tub of soapsuds—surely a mixed metaphor, a
- confused figure of speech.
- </p>
- <p>
- Another idea occurred to me. It was that Susannah had the entire
- sympathies of the <i>Violetta</i> in tow.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XX—THE BALLAD OF GEORGIANA AND DELORES
- </h2>
- <h3>
- THE BALLAD
- </h3>
- <p class="indent20">
- THERE was a cat and named Dolores,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And she had many worries.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- They made her ill. They made her thin.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Her stomach was all tumbled in.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “Oh, grief! Oh, dear' Who does not wail!
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Dolores had a beautiful tail
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- It was black and partly yellow.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- She was so fair and good a fellow.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ I don't mean she was ever fat,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I mean she was a woman cat
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Now, there was a hen too. Oh Shame!
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Now Georgiana was her name
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ Now, to be proud she had a right.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Her eyes they were very bright,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And all her toes she had but one,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Although some of her tail feathers were gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “Hark! The sea is full of awful posts
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Which make a person think of ghosts.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Hark! The hurricane so fierce does blow.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- She is gone off the ship Woe!
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ Dolores did not wait to purr.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- 'Farewell,' she cried. 'I go to her.'
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- The foam it slithered through her claws,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- She was drowned in Friendship's Cause.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ My precious darling! Oh, my pet!
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- You both so hated to get wet.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Now you're as wet inside as a water pail,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- It makes me sick I die, I faint, I fail.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Now, sharks and whales, you are so big,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- If you should eat them, you're a pig,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Now, little fish, make friends with them please,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- With Georgiana and Dolores.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /> <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_FOOT" id="link2H_FOOT"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- FOOTNOTES BY JAMES ULSWATER.
- </h2>
- <p>
- First Stanza: As the Ancient Mariner began his marvellous tale, “There was
- a ship,” so Susannah begins, “There was a cat”—boldly, ruggedly, a
- leap <i>in médias res</i>. The first stanza is a condensed and yet
- accurate analysis of Dolores, ending with a striking bit of realism.
- </p>
- <p>
- Second Stanza: A wild burst of grief subsiding sadly into tender
- reminiscence. Note how the proportions of black and yellow on the tail of
- Dolores are delicately discriminated, the “black” being, in point of fact,
- predominant.
- </p>
- <p>
- Third Stanza: We are introduced to Georgiana. Here arises a difficulty.
- What was there in the condition of being “a hen” to warrant the
- exclamation, “Oh, Shame!” Surely none! I interpret the passage thus: the
- exclamation “Oh, Shame!” is simply the poetess' passion bursting through,
- as it were, the reserve of the narrative, and in this way it prophetically
- forecasts the fatal issue. It is not, I think, a reflection or invective
- against hens, as such.
- </p>
- <p>
- Fourth Stanza: Observe how just and truthful are the details, how
- Georgiana's right to a certain pride of manner, which indeed was hers, is
- critically based upon the brightness of her eyes, upon the approximate
- completeness of her toes. And yet it is honourably admitted that there was
- a deficiency of tail feathers.
- </p>
- <p>
- Fifth Stanza: As the ballads of folklore are ever distinguished by a
- certain abruptness of climax, so here Susannah. Note the present tense,
- used only in this stanza. In the last line, how remarkable in effect is
- the passionate interjection which follows the simple statement of
- Georgiana's catastrophe!
- </p>
- <p>
- Sixth Stanza: Last line, “slithered”—a difficult word, and yet
- effective! The whole line is masterly.
- </p>
- <p>
- Seventh Stanza: The last line is clearly a Shelleyan reminiscence, a trace
- of my readings aloud of that poet. And yet, if Susannah had plagiarised,
- it was at least, boldly, frankly.
- </p>
- <p>
- Eighth and Last Stanza: Note the contrast between the defiant and
- denunciatory address to the “whales and sharks,” and the pleading
- gentleness of that petition to the “little fish,” that they receive with
- comfort and affection those sad and houseless visitants, who had perished
- not ignobly, not unworthily.
- </p>
- <p>
- A poem composed by Sadler on the foregoing events:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “The climates got out on a spree,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- A heaven-and-hell carouse,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And Satan built along the sea
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- The pillars of his house;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And 'mong them all they drowned one hen,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- One played-out, seedy cat,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And then slid off to sea again,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And let it go at that,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Leaving some waves to sob and worry,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Leaving Susannah crying.—
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Oh, Lord, this world is sound and fury,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And nothing signifying.
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- But come a time when heaven and hell
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Has settled their arrears,—
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- 'Bout twilight of the judgment day,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- When all the books are put away,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And all the little souls gone home
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Each to its place in kingdom come—
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- The Lord and me, we'll set and—well,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- We'll set around and talk a spell
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- About some woman's tears.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /> <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXI—SUSANNAH AND RAM NAD
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE deck of the <i>Violetta</i>
- had resumed its ordinary domestic look. True, no Dolores lay on the
- carpet, no Georgiana pecked and scratched in the scuppers. At some
- distance apart on his rug, his basket behind him, in deep abstraction, sat
- Ram Nad.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad had absent-mindedness down to a science. He could roll up his
- eyeballs and go off like a bullet. When not abstracted he usually played
- jackstraws. What recondite connection there was between him and jackstraws
- I never made out, but I suspected it was the delicate sleight of hand
- required, and the practice it gave him, which fastened him to that
- Occidental game. Certainly I would back him against any jackstraw player—But
- there never was such a jackstraw player before. The laws of physics were
- nothing to him. Gravitation in jackstraws he ignored.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sadler, Susannah, and I were in conversation under the awning, but Mrs.
- Ulswater sat a long time silent.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Doctor,” she said at last, “do you think Ram Nad could have Georgiana and
- Dolores in his basket?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Susannah started. On me too the idea had a certain volcanic effect.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why suppose so?” I said. “Is there evidence? Have you a subtle instinct?
- Does he look a shade more virtuous than usual? If he does, it would go to
- prove he has been accumulating sin. But does he? He looks to be precisely
- as usual. Why suppose they didn't go overboard? Why not adopt my theory
- and Susannah's of Dolores' pathetic departure?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose they did.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater sighed, and was silent for some moments before she went on:
- </p>
- <p>
- “But if Ram Nad churned them into his basket the way he does with things,
- after what I've told him, it's flat disobedience, and I won't stand it
- from a heathen. Georgiana never would go on deck when the wind blew, and
- they were both in the cabin the night before the water spouts. Of course
- if I accused him of it, and it wasn't so, he'd be perfectly crushing. He'd
- be crushing if it <i>was</i> true, for that matter. But somehow I don't
- see how it could have happened, and I won't have Ram Nad getting the best
- of me. I wish you'd see if you can find out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Now if anything suits my temperament and talent, it is wily diplomacy, and
- the worming out of another man by devious ways the carefully guarded
- secret of his soul. I took a camp stool and sat down before Ram Nad. He
- was abstracted behind the whites of his rolled-up eyes. I said with subtle
- suavity:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wake up, you old Cingalese snake of a juggler!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad came out of infinity, and answered with welcoming gesture:
- “Imbecile, why do you trouble me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where,” I said, “are Georgiana and Dolores, you depraved and disgusting
- pundit?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do I know, pig?”
- </p>
- <p>
- But this limpid flow of pure reason was not, it seemed to me, really
- headed for Ram Nad's soul secret. I skilfully shifted the attack.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, in this way you might have an idea, illustrious. As I understand
- your theory of everything, it's this: The entire universe, you say, is
- only a general idea which has the misfortune to be particularised in
- spots. Normally, it's just an abstract conception, but parts of the
- conception have somehow blundered into a curious condition called
- concreteness. A very distressing condition, very. Bless my soul!
- Concreteness is an awful catastrophe.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “As you state it so, it may be so stated,” said Ram Nad.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now then, if any person then, such as Georgiana or Dolores, either
- tragically, or peacefully, or in any manner whatever, becomes dead, you
- say of them, simply: They have returned to generality; they are no more
- separately existent; they are rid of the burden of identity; they have, so
- to speak, disappeared in that airy original mixture again. Such would be
- your description of the case.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You possess some misunderstood fragments of truth, O brother,” said Ram
- Nad.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very good. But see here! When you churn things in that remarkable basket
- of yours, and they are gone, and I ask: 'Where are they?' you invariably
- say: 'They have become general ideas.' When I ask why I can't see or touch
- them, you answer, 'General ideas are not visible or tangible, but are of
- the mind purely.' Sometimes, at this point, I have perhaps ejaculated,
- 'Gammon!' I apologise. Sometimes, on the other hand, you have exclaimed,
- 'Imbecile!' I forgive. The question is this: What's the difference between
- being generalised in a basket, and being generalised by drowning? Are they
- not the same? Or do you follow my argument, illustrious?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad considered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is a worthy inquiry, O brother. It may be your mind is at last
- becoming capable of thought? But how shall I answer. Is there a
- difference? Should I not answer that there is none?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There can't be, Ram Nad, there can't be!” I exclaimed. “Reason proves it.
- Then, see here! Why can't you, then, restore Georgiana and Dolores? It's
- all the same, for reason proves it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- If there did, as I fancied, for an instant pass over Ram Nad's patriarchal
- face, into his meditative eyes, an expression, if not of cunning, at least
- of a certain pleasant humanity, it vanished quickly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have yourself answered,” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The difference is this: if the cat and hen of inquiry had been
- generalised here by me, I could so restore them; but because they are
- drowned, I am not able. Therefore the question is answered.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I see. That was the point. I thought maybe you could—a pardonable
- mistake—your talents are so extraordinary. I thought you might be a
- resurrectionist on the side. You'll excuse me, I'm sure.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad withdrew again behind the whites of his eyes, and I returned to
- the awning, reflecting. Ram Nad had lacked hypnotic subjects since Mrs.
- Ulswater put her foot down on his fixing any human inhabitant of the <i>Violetta</i>
- that way.
- </p>
- <p>
- But it struck me I'd never known a man with so fine an outfit for
- casuistry as Ram Nad, such a liquid and euphuistic term for slaughter and
- theft, such philosophic refinement in the practical process. Thus: you
- generalise your neighbour's watch. It becomes an abstract idea, and
- belongs to the original nebulous unity of pure conception. You go around
- the corner and concentrate your mind on the idea till it's particular
- again. You get about the same watch. Maybe not. Pretty similar. It seemed
- so to me.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I pass,” I said to Mrs. Ulswater. “Who plays next? Ram Nad's got 'em,
- that's my penetrative opinion; but he can bluff like a fire engine.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm going to give him a piece of my mind,” said Mrs. Ulswater,
- indignantly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, my dear,” I said, “I don't believe it would fetch them. I believe
- Ram Nad could put even a piece of your mind into his basket, and churn it
- to a harmless generality. I do indeed. Your play, Sadler.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Spank him,” murmured Sadler, sleepily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ha! King Ogel! Hum! Why didn't we induce Ram Nad to generalise that king?
- Mightn't it have had a sort of—shall I say?—a refining effect,
- a deodourising effect? Well, maybe not. Spanking was, in his case, I
- should say, bracing, suggestive; as applied to a king, I admit its point.
- But, now, as applied to a patriarch, I should draw the line, I really
- should. Your turn, Susannah.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Susannah sprang up and started across the deck toward Ram Nad. We watched
- her in silence, in expectation. She stood before him a moment conversing,
- then dragged the conical basket around in front of him, and of her own
- accord climbed into it. This was interesting. We all three arose and drew
- near them, while Ram Nad covered the opening with a corner of his loose
- garments, and fell to that familiar procedure resembling the motion by
- which, with fork or spoon, the energetic housewife blends and fuses the
- delicately organised egg into a yellow somewhat, an inorganic mess.
- </p>
- <p>
- Wherein Ram Nad's skill or secret consisted, its scientific theory, I did
- not—I do not now—profess or expect to know. I call him an A1
- magician, and pass the deal. Did it consist in hypnotic deception of the
- observer? I incline to that idea, on account of the element of gammon
- therein. Was it some unusual sleight of hand? Was it a knowledge and
- control of some occult but natural law? I have at times leaned to that
- hypothesis, only to return again either to gammon or the pleasant repose
- of a gaseous doubt. He appeared to be able on request, with any object not
- too large to go into his absorbent basket, there to dissolve the said
- object into nothing. You could look into the basket. You could feel with
- the hand. You could search Ram Nad's clothes, or comb his beard. You would
- come to the end of ultimate wisdom, and conclude to pass the deal. Then,
- on request, he would reproduce the object.
- </p>
- <p>
- Susannah is not a large object; she is about the size of Mrs. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're sure she isn't taking any harm?” said Mrs. Ulswater, peering into
- the mysteriously empty basket. “What on earth did you do with her? Well,
- she's not there. Fetch her out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad covered the opening, churned a bit, and then rolled up the whites
- of his eyes and concentrated his mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stuff!” said Mrs. Ulswater, “You're pretending.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Show not knowledge to a woman,” said Ram Nad, politely, “but indulgence.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He turned the basket upside down. Mrs. Ulswater tipped it over.
- </p>
- <p>
- By the sacred Bo Tree, by the antiseptic waters of Benares, what is the
- wisdom of the East against the logic of Susannah?
- </p>
- <p>
- “Susannah!” I cried. Sadler and I clasped hands and danced, glorious and
- flamboyant, in the circular manner of a “ring-round-rosy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Susannah, hosannah!” I cried, and Sadler chaunted:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “Ram Nad, you're a son of a gun, tralala,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Ram Nad, if that isn't one, tralala,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- On you I don't happen to know,”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- and continued, chaunting:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “You'd better quit sinning of sins, tralala,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Or you'll maybe be breaking your shins, tralala,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- On things you don't happen to know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- For there on the deck, smiling quaintly, sat Susannah! There, clasped, one
- in each of her arms, were Georgiana and Dolores!
- </p>
- <p>
- Ram Nad rose silently. Martyred meekness was the foundation of his facial
- expression. Dignity and charity were its fringes and decorations. He went
- forward among the sailors.
- </p>
- <p>
- Calm was restored. Susannah explained. She had thought that, if Ram Nad
- had put Georgiana and Dolores in some sort of place, and if he did the
- same thing to her, perhaps she would be in the same place, and why
- shouldn't she find them? Such was Susannah's logic, simple, yet
- transcendental. Questioned on the matter of being churned, she said that
- she began to feel very comfortable and soft, and then something like
- custard, and then like custard that was all around everywhere; that is,
- she was both custard herself and contained in custard; and so, reaching
- out in the custard of which she consisted, she caught hold of Georgiana
- and Dolores. So far Susannah. Such is all the evidence bearing on this
- singular event.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Susannah,” I said, “I like your analysis. Do you happen to feel anything
- in the nature of a ballad beginning to—to root around inside you?
- Because—here is the point. This ballad, as it stands, of Georgiana
- and Dolores, you see——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That!” said Susannah, scornfully, “that's no good now. It isn't so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXII—CONCLUSION OF DR. ULSWATER'S LAST MANUSCIPT
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OR four reasons we
- purpose now to move, by summery stages and many an ocean isle, to Portate,
- whither these, my written words, will perhaps not long precede us.
- </p>
- <p>
- The four reasons: First; the poet Sadler claims to have been once banished
- by executive edict from the city of Portate, and has a notion he would
- like to examine his condition of exile, so to speak, at close range; to
- poke once more a certain irascible Jefe Municipal, or Mayor, doubtless of
- your acquaintance, in the midriff of his temper. Second; Mrs. Ulswater
- seems to have a singular hankering affection for one who, she says, “was
- the nicest boy there is,”—a distinct opinion in a confusion of
- tenses.
- </p>
- <p>
- Third; the poet Susannah. Now what the bearing may be, in Mrs. Ulswater's
- mind, of Portate on Susannah, is not so clear to me. But to me this is
- clear, that Susannah is in a way outgrowing the capacity of islands. She
- is in need, I admit, of a continental connection. Fourth; I have some
- researches to make in South-American archaeology.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ah, Susannah! What is there about this frank maidenhood that a mist
- sometimes gathers in Mrs. Ulswater's lucid eyes in looking at her.
- Susannah's nature is not, as yet, I should say, compact of softest
- sentiment. Passionate in affection, sudden in resolve, terrific in action,
- given to valour and wrath, why about her should the emotions of this
- vessel all dance in a species of harmonious jig? Why should this
- concussive and rebounding person rouse in my own glutinous nature a
- phosphorescent glow, as of a jelly fish, and cause my languid tentacles of
- emotion to flutter about like a flag in the wind? Why lies the melancholy
- Sadler tonight on the small of his back in a deck chair, his knees hooked
- over the rail, his feet pendant above the sea, and, in a foggy voice, to
- an abominable tune and the twankle of an exasperating banjo, sing:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “Good night, my Starlight,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Queen of my heart.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- You are my star bright,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- We are apart.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Me where the high seas
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Thunder and smite,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- You in your sky dreams,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Good night, Starlight.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- I do not, indeed, apprehend Sadler to be directly addressing Susannah, as
- such, in these terms and with that inharmonious vocalisation; but I
- apprehend the impact of Susannah upon Sadler to arouse in him something
- other than jubilation, something within the sunless caverns of his memory,
- certain uneasy glimmerings of an old romance. And I ask, why? To the eye
- of pure reason, Susannah contains as much of the vapour of moonlit
- sentiment as a coal scuttle. The eye of pure reason, after any continuous
- examination of Susannah, feels as if it had been in a prize fight, and
- emerged therefrom a blackened optic and out of business for the time. And
- yet there arises—hark! again, above the low breath of the sea wind,
- rises that melancholy song:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ Good night, my Starlight,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Trembling to tears,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- White is my hair, white
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- In the wake of the years.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Over the lee wave
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- You shine on my night,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Me, the old sea waif,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Good night, Starlight?”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent30">
- Yours—Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- (End of Dr. Ulswater's Fourth and Last Manuscript. )
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIII—I RESUME THE NARRATIVE. THE PORTATE ULTIMATUM
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE city of
- Portate, on the west coast of South America, when I knew it, had already a
- distinct flavour of enterprise. Two Northern companies had much to do with
- its affairs. One of them, The Union Electric, had the trolleys and the
- street lighting; the other had been longer on the ground, was called The
- Transport Company, and owned the inland railroad and the principal line of
- steamers in the harbour. I had charge of The Union Electric plant. Both
- were large companies operating in numerous South-American cities.
- </p>
- <p>
- There is a river called the Jiron, which runs down from the mountains, and
- makes a green strip through a desert land, and so on through Portate to
- the sea. Even from the sea you can make out the white caps of the Andes;
- but in the heats of Portate, you decline to believe that the white is
- snow.
- </p>
- <p>
- Portate is the seaport of the country. There is a telegraph line running
- inland to the capital. The monkeys do gymnastics on the wires, and the
- natives steal sections of it to tie their roofs on with, on the theory
- that the thing is plain foolishness, and the enterprise of fools is the
- profit of the wise. Then you go around and lam the native and take the
- wire, but he stays by his own opinion, and the Government wants to know
- what you mean by allowing official messages to be interrupted; for, they
- say, monkeys and roofs are not in the contract, and call it improper
- frivolity to mention them: “Why tie on roofs with official messages? Why
- improperly submit important business to the gymnastics of creatures
- without intelligence?”—till you come out of it by swearing yourself
- blood relation to all the monkeys on the Jiron, which seems as
- satisfactory as anything, being put down to the inherited madness of the
- Northerner. There are several varieties of monkeys on the Jiron.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the city of Portate there are wharves, which float off to sea in
- freshets, and have to be pursued and brought back in disgrace. The trolley
- line goes from the wharves to the Plaza, and then visiting about town. The
- telephones and electric lights are the pride of the enlightened, but the
- unenlightened think they are run by connection with that pit of the sinful
- about which Padre Rafael is an authority.
- </p>
- <p>
- “For, observe! It is not as wood that it burns. <i>Madré de Dios</i>, no!
- It is the wrath of the devil on the end of a stick.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Union Electric had the contract for the whole outfit of the lights and
- trolleys, and sent me down to handle it. I had good nerve then. I thought
- electricity was king, and that a man could do anything he set out to do.
- He can, but my nerve is not so good now.
- </p>
- <p>
- Now The Union Electric Company's contract was to furnish the city of
- Portate so many arc lights, at so much a month per light, with monthly
- payments, but there was more politics in it than I was used to. It took me
- some time to see that if the Mayor bought a set of gilt furniture on the
- 28th, and the paymaster a span of horses on the 29th, it wasn't reasonable
- to bring them a city lighting bill on the 30th. But they thought it
- unreasonable, and after awhile I came near thinking so too. I had to get
- five signatures to each bill, and the signatures took turns going off into
- the country between the 30th and the 15th. After that they generally came
- with protests in parentheses, that arc No. 53 had been observed by
- respected gentlemen to sputter improperly, and that arc No. 5, on a
- certain night, had refused to burn, in contempt of authority,—which
- was because a native had heaved a stone into it, out of religious
- scruples. They were always in arrears.
- </p>
- <p>
- They liked it that way. They said it was delay in tax-collecting. It was
- very warm. Did the Senor suffer from the heat? Alas! the tax collector was
- too fat. It had been represented to his Excellency that tax collectors
- should be thinner. They were thirty thousand dollars behind. It seemed to
- me that the city of Portate was too happy. It didn't have troubles enough.
- </p>
- <p>
- I went to see the Mayor, what they call the “Jefe Municipal.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was a puffy old man, of about the fatness of the tax collector, but
- smaller, and wore a white moustache and imperial in such a way that it
- seemed to be his symbol of authority.
- </p>
- <p>
- I said, “Mayor, the city owes me thirty thousand dollars.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is it possible!” he cried, holding up his hands. “But we do pay you too
- much. How does the city owe you so much if it is not too much?”
- </p>
- <p>
- That was good tropical logic. Tropical logic always confused me.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My friend,” he said, “is it not in your country also that the corporation
- oppresses the people?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Union Electric,” I said, “doesn't do business for love of humanity,
- and it didn't send me down here for my health.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Alas! No?” sighed the Mayor, wiping his forehead. “The corporations are
- without souls, pitiless. I read it in a newspaper, that also of the United
- States. But if the Senor's health is delicate, a trip to the hills—-”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I give you till Wednesday night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He brightened up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a festival night. The municipal band will play in the Plaza. The
- people will dance. Portate is a city of pleasure, a second Paris. And you,
- Senor, will honour us, on the balcony of the magistrates.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thirty thousand dollars by Wednesday night, or I shut off the lights.
- With great regret, your Excellency——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Senor——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's an ultimatum. Allow me to express, nevertheless——”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Mayor rose, smiling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nevertheless, you will observe the festival. A delight, Senor, a
- panorama!”
- </p>
- <p>
- I went over and tried to impress the paymaster, but he wouldn't be
- impressed either. He said arc No. 38 was shining persistently into the
- upper-story windows of the house of a municipal councillor, against his
- honour and privacy. He said the son of the municipal councillor was to
- marry his, the paymaster's daughter, and The Union Electric Company
- oughtn't to disturb such alliances. I went down to the plant as fast as
- possible, feeling in the mind to see people that were reasonable and
- steady, like the six dynamos.
- </p>
- <p>
- Chepa was my foreman's name, and a good man he was—a half-breed of
- fifty years perhaps, with gray hair about his ears. I told him I was going
- to shut off the lights if they didn't pay up, and Chepa's hair stood on
- end. He said I was a distinguished gentleman, and would be shot for an
- anarchist together with himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mother of heaven! It will be a hot time. Behold me! I am game!”
- </p>
- <p>
- I told him he wouldn't need any more heroism than came natural. I only
- wanted him to switch off, and throw the machines out of gear at nine
- o'clock Wednesday night, and then disappear for a day or two.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't let them lay eyes on a hair of you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- That was Saturday if my memory is right, the third of May. It came on
- Wednesday without any more interviews. The day was hot, and I didn't see
- that the tax collector was getting thinner with extra labour of collecting
- taxes. But the preparations for the festival were going on, so innocent
- and peaceful it would break your heart to see, with ridiculous strips of
- coloured cloth around the wax-palms on the Plaza; for a wax-palm grows a
- hundred and fifty feet high, and looks like a high-born lady; and red and
- white stripes around the foot of her, like a barber's pole, aren't
- becoming. I sent up a man with the bill in the afternoon, and he came back
- saying the Mayor was so busy with his uniform that he wouldn't look at
- him. I gave orders to shut off the switch at nine o'clock. About eight in
- the evening I disguised myself with a cloak and a villainous slouch hat,
- and left my house, which was a mile out of the city, though handy to the
- plant. The cook had run off to the Plaza, and I plugged up the telephone,
- so it was a house that couldn't be conversed with. Then I walked into
- town.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Mayor's uniform and several other uniforms were on the balcony of
- magistrates, the Mayor making a speech to the effect that it was a
- municipality without parallel, a second Paris, which civilisation regarded
- universally, and exclaimed, “Behold Portate!” There was Padre Rafael,
- standing directly under an electric light, and it was curious to see him
- with that kind of saint's glory around him, and smiling like a plaster
- cast of Benevolence. Whoop-bang! went the brass band, with the bass drum
- miscellaneous, and the cornets audacious, and the trombones independent,
- but aiming, you might say, at a similar tune. And all the Plaza fell to
- dancing and conversing, with the fountain in the middle sprinkling
- recklessly, and the wax-palms done up in red and white bunting, and the
- electric light shining uncannily, with their bills unpaid.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come up, Padre Rafael!” shouts the Mayor presently, catching sight of his
- reverence, “to the balcony of the magistrates. It is a glorious occasion.”
- He puffed out his chest so anybody could admire that liked.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then the lights went out, and the band ended off with a grunt and a
- squeal.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Plaza was black as a hat, only for a few lights in the windows, and
- quite silent for a moment. I lit out when the howls began. It seemed to me
- they'd sound better from a distance. There were people running and
- shouting along the pitch-black streets. But getting into the outskirts of
- the city, I found there were a few stars shining, and came home without
- trouble. I sat down on a bench in the garden and waited. It was a hundred
- yards or more from the house. It was very peaceful, with all manner of
- tropical scents floating around. Shutting down the lights of Portate
- didn't seem to bother the rest of South America.
- </p>
- <p>
- By and by a carriage drove up, and there was a deal of banging at the
- doors, and tramping around the house. I thought it was an under-official
- that threw a rock through the window, not a real dignitary. Later there
- was another carriage, more banging and tramping.
- </p>
- <p>
- I went to bed after that. I don't know how long they tried to telephone
- from the City Hall—the telephone didn't say.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIV—THE ARREST
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN I awoke in the
- morning, the sunlight was shining brightly through the shutters, and I lay
- awhile getting things straightened out in my mind, wondering what the
- authorities would do next, and sorting my own cards. Then I noticed a
- murmuring all about, not like a conversation of a few people, but like the
- voices of a crowd at some distance. I took a cautious peek. Oh, my native
- country! The yard was full of soldiers of the City Guard in their pink
- uniforms, all squatting on the ground very dejectedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hi!” I thought. “There's no hurry about getting dressed. The cook must
- have stayed shy, or they'd have got me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I never saw that cook again. I've heard that he came on the soldiers about
- three o'clock in the morning, camping in the front yard. Their orders were
- to stay there till I came home. The cook went off into the country to
- avoid politics.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Speaking of the cook now,” I said to myself, “they'll arrest me without
- breakfast. They'll march me into town afoot, like a malefactor. It won't
- do for the dignity of The Union Electric.”
- </p>
- <p>
- With that I wrapped myself and the telephone in double blankets, took out
- the plug, and cautiously rang up a livery-stable.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Carriage!” I said, “to Senor Kirby's house, North Road, in an hour.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then I prospected in the kitchen on tiptoe, and collected a spirit-lamp
- and such matters, got dressed, and breakfasted behind the shutters with a
- calmness that was a bit artificial. The City Guard wasn't breakfasting. By
- the calamitous features of the elderly officer sitting on my horse-block,
- they didn't expect to. El Capitano Lugo was his name, and a very friendly
- man, after breakfast.
- </p>
- <p>
- I sat smoking behind the shutters, and waited for the carriage, which came
- along leisurely about nine. The soldiery destroyed the picket-fence
- getting into the road all together.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What news?” said El Capitano Lugo.
- </p>
- <p>
- The driver was a scared man.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Eh!” he said. “But I know nothing, Senor Capitano, nothing! Carriage to
- Senor Kirby, North Road. A telephone.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is an empty house, idiot!”
- </p>
- <p>
- With that they were all crowded close about the carriage, talking in low
- tones, but excited. It was about ghosts, as the captain told me after, and
- there ran a theory among them that I had been a spirit for the last twelve
- hours, turning off lights and sending telephones to avenge the atrocity of
- my murder.
- </p>
- <p>
- But it got no farther than a theory, because of the opening of the door,
- and me coming out on the porch in duck trousers, polka-dot tie, and a calm
- that was artificial.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is that my carriage?” I asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah!” shouted the captain, making for me, over the wrecks of the
- picket-fence. I said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “How d'ye do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I arrest you!” said he.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course you do. Get into the carriage.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And off we went bowling toward the city, with the guard plodding far
- behind in pink uniforms, and very dejected. Captain Lugo himself would
- answer nothing when I tried to show him that pink uniforms were in bad
- taste for a city guard.
- </p>
- <p>
- But, oh, the extravagance of language at the City Hall, and the Mayor with
- his beautiful temper in ruins!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Intolerable! The contempt of dignity, the mockery of constituted power!
- By whose orders were the lights turned off?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mine, your Excellency, of course. Told you all about it last Saturday.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Â la carcel!</i>” he shouted, with his official moustache standing up
- at the ends. “He has despised the city. Take him to jail, hastily.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You'd better look out,” I said. “It's an international complication. The
- United States will be capturing Portate with an extension of the Monroe
- Doctrine,” I said, fishing wildly for an argument.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Insolent foreigner!” said he.
- </p>
- <p>
- “May Portate be darkened forever!” said I.
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>A la cârcel!</i>” said he, and four pink uniforms hustled me and my
- duck trousers out into the street and around the corner to the jail.
- </p>
- <p>
- Now that was an unpleasing place to be in. I charged up fifty dollars for
- the experience, to The Union Electric Company, who said it was a good joke
- and paid it, eventually; but it wasn't a joke.
- </p>
- <p>
- The jail was an expanse of deal-wall on the street, except at one place
- where there was an architectural doorway. And within there was a large
- patio or courtyard, a low adobe building surrounding it, with rows of open
- cells, and a sort of cemented veranda in front. That was the Portate City
- Jail entire. There were guards at the door. They shoved you in, and you
- did what you chose. There were groups of dirty peons lolling about, others
- playing some game with pebbles and fragments of cement, two women who had
- been officially interrupted while pounding each other's heads, a donkey,
- some cats, and a sad-eyed pig, all arrested for vagrancy.
- </p>
- <p>
- I sent a guard up to the hotel for a chair, and sat down haughtily in the
- corner of the veranda behind the gateway and farthest from the sun. The
- groups of peons gathered around me. Their manners were naturally good, but
- they couldn't avoid the romantic fascination of me. I sent another guard
- with a telegram to the United States Minister and a message for the
- resident Consul. I gave the guard a dollar to buy tobacco and cigarette
- papers, and compromised with the friendly peons. We agreed on a circle
- twenty feet away, which was near enough for conversation, and far enough
- for a draught between. There was a wall of them, all supplied with
- cigarettes, and me the centre of observation. We discussed the government
- of Portate, and there was no one in the City Jail but thought it needed
- reform.
- </p>
- <p>
- By and by the Consul came, and he was so interested and pleased with the
- situation that he wasn't up to the duties of his office, as I told him. He
- said the Mayor was in luck, on account of the extreme heat up-country at
- the capital.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My guess at the Mayor is: he's figuring to keep you in jail over night
- for the sake of his dignity, and cover you with documentary apologies in
- the morning,” said the Consul. “And I've been telegraphing the Minister,
- and can't get him; for he's gone hunting up the cool of the mountains with
- the President of the Republic, the Minister of the Interior, and some
- other official parties. I say, why did you pick out a festival and
- presidential excursion day? You bold, bad man! said he, sticking his hands
- in his pockets and laughing at me.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stay here all night!” I shouted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Can't help it,” said the Consul, grinning. “I've done all I could. He'll
- get into trouble likely. What can I do, if he wants to run his risk and
- stand by his luck?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll denounce you at home for inefficiency.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have a cot bed?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Get out!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Pleasant dreams!” he said. “It 'll be a hot night;” and with that he went
- off grinning.
- </p>
- <p>
- The afternoon wore away slowly. I began to think the Mayor might have me
- down after all, and wondered if Chepa would run the plant that night with
- a detachment of pink soldiery over him. I sent a guard after some lunch.
- No one else came except my lawyer, who brought some newspapers, and said
- the Mayor was blushing all over with happiness and conceit. He said there
- were crowds in the Plaza, and sure enough you could hear the mutter and
- shuffle of them, for the Plaza was but a few blocks away. It seemed to me
- they were making more noise than before, and when the lawyer was gone, and
- the afternoon was late, it seemed to have grown to a kind of dull roaring,
- with shouts and howls intermixed. The peons in the patio were stirring
- about, too, and jabbering. The dusk was coming on faintly.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXV—MRS. ULSWATER'S INSURRECTION
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HERE was a clatter
- and tramp of feet in the street outside. The door of the patio flew open
- with a bang.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Take your dirty hands off me!” Bang, went the door again, and there in
- the patio stood a little squat Irishman with red hair and stubby black
- clay pipe in his mouth.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's the matter?” I called to him, for his hair was rumpled and his
- coat torn, with rough handling. He ran to me, and the crowd, the
- simple-hearted criminality of Portate, gathered around us.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hoosh!” he said. “It's an insurrection, sor. I'm arristed for
- distributin' insidjus proclamations in backwoods Casthilian, an' the
- guards has taken me last copy, tellin' how The Mayor has Tyrannously
- Arristed the Electric Lights! Release Misther Kirby or Down wid the Mayor!
- Shall Portate be Darkened? Citizens, Rise!' Oh, hivens, me entherprise and
- adventures!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Comb down your red hair,” I said, “and go on.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's auburrn, sor!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's fine shade of gold, you Hibernian Apollo! Who in time are you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I come in yesterday evenin' on the <i>Violetta</i>”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, sor. Me name's Hagan, but Sadler's gone away from me, an' I have the
- trimbles in me bones.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I'll be shot! Are they all right?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure, they are.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Go ahead then.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, sor, me an' Sadler an' the docther, we got ashore as soon as we
- could. 'Twas in the early evenin', an' thim two went off somewhere for
- somewhat; and me, I went down Bolivar Street to an old haunt of me
- mimories, to see what was there. An' who should come out of the caffy but
- Chepa. Sure, he's your foreman now, but onct he was me frind an' dispised
- acquaintance in this city of sinfulness many a year ago. 'Red hair!' says
- he wid a shriek. 'Auburrn!' says I, 'ye grizzly Dago.' An' wid that we
- ombraced. 'Och, Jimmie!' he says, 'you're the man I'm wantin',' he says.
- 'Where's Sadler?' 'I dunno,' I says, 'not just now. He's around the town.'
- 'Tis happy he'll be then this night,' he says, 'for society an' politics,'
- he says, 'an' populations an' powers 'll be playin' discordant chunes,' he
- says. 'Come on,' he says, 'an' help me ungear thim dynamos.' Wid that we
- started for the plant, an' me not knowin' at all the divilmint that was
- goin', an' we come to the plant, and Chepa set the dynamos buzzin' like
- bees, an' thin sat down an' explained his language wid information. 'At
- nine o'clock,' he says, 'I shut 'em off and disables the machinery,' an'
- he did. Then we come back through the town by the back streets. There was
- wicked rage in the heart of Portate. She wint to bed in the dark, and had
- bad dreams. But we come down to the docks an' hired a boat out to the <i>Violetta</i>,
- and we told the missus and the young la-ady about it. After awhile comes
- out the boys in the gig wid a letther from the docther sayin' him an'
- Sadler was gone up counthry on a night thrain in pursuit of South-American
- archylogy. 'Kit,' says the missus, readin' it out to the young la-ady,
- 'Kit seems to have this city in a barrel, an' he's plugged the shpigot,
- an' where in the barrel he is I dunno,' he says, 'for we've been to the
- electric plant and we've banged on the doorway of his house, an' nothin'
- happened, an' Portate is tumultuous and dark. Wherefore,' he says, 'I
- argue he ain't expectin' company to-night, an' me an' Sadler is goin' up
- counthry afther archylogy,' he says, 'to be back to-morry.' 'Goodness!'
- says the missis, an' she an' the young la-ady went down for the night, an'
- me an' Chepa passed it cool an' balmy. This mornin' the missis sent us
- ashore for news. But oh, the sights of the ragin' city! Oh, the throuble
- an' combustion of it! A crowd of men grabs us at the corner. 'Gintlemen,'
- says Chepa, 'respected sehores, 'tis the wickedness of the Jefe,' he says,
- 'a-spindin' on gilt furniture the hard-earned taxes of the people,
- collected by the tax collector,' he says, 'wid the shweat of his fatness.
- For Sehor Kirby,' he says, 'to the great sorrow of himself, havin' run out
- of electricity, is unable to buy more on account of the avarice and theft
- of the beast of a thief of a Jefe,' he says, and they thought so too. By
- and by comes the news of yourself arristed and put in jail. 'Jimmie,' says
- Chepa, 'it will not do.' I says 'It will not.' An' we broke away an' went
- back to the <i>Violetta</i>. An very interested they were, sor, the missis
- an' the young la-ady, askin' questions, an' then a-studyin' an' a-lookin'
- at ache other. 'Well,' says the missis, 'I wish Doctor Ulswater hadn't
- gone, but it's the Jefe's fault an' not Mr. Kirby's, an' I think you were
- quite right, Mr. Chepa,' she says, 'to tell the people so. But of coorse
- you could only tell a few,' she says, 'an' I suppose most of thim think
- it's Mr. Kirby's to blame, an' I think we ought to stop that,' she says,
- 'so I think we'd bet-ther have a lot of bills printed to explain.'—'Hooroar!'
- says the young la-ady, jumpin' up and wavin' herself in the atmosphere.
- 'I'll write it!' An' wid that she grabs Chepa an' plumps down wid him on
- the carpet, an' what wid thim two composin' inflaminous proclamations, an'
- me a shmokin' me poipe wid terror in me bosim an' me face smeared over wid
- insidjous calm, an' the missis a lookin' off at Portate, wid her knittin'
- in her hand and statesmanship an' revolution in her eye, 'twas a
- ould-shtyle Fenian meetin', sor, an' down wid the landlords! 'It's hot,'
- says Chepa, manin' the proclamation. 'There's no foreign governmint to
- rescue Chepa wid diplomacy. They'll hang me,' he says, 'an' 'tis no
- matther. Behold me, senora! I am game.' 'You must stay here,' says the
- missis. 'Jimmie will have the bills printed and posted.' 'Oh, senora!'
- says Chepa, lookin' hurt. 'Of coorse you're not afraid,' she says—an'
- I wished she knew that I was—'but it'd be bad for you to be
- arristed,' she says, 'an' besides there's another reason.' It lies in the
- nature of things, sor, to do what the missis says. There's no help for it.
- I came into Portate alone, wid myself, an' gold in me trousers pocket
- which I changes to the barbarious paper money of the counthry an' scuttles
- off to a printer. 'Set it up!' I says, showin' barbarious money. 'Print
- it!' An' he did so, wid the fear of consequences an' the lust of avarice.
- But, sor, ye should have seen the amazin' innocence an' wrath of the
- populace, a-jumpin' all over the Plaza, a-howlin', a-wavin' proclamations
- an' blackguardin' the Mayor for arristin' the lights. Prisintly comes a
- line of soldiers wrigglin' through the crowd, an' one of 'em raps me over
- the head with the butt of his gun, out of the mistherable shpite of him,
- an' they takes me red-handed in the disthribution of proclamations, an' up
- we goes, up the steps of the City Hall, before the public was onto the
- insult to its liberties. An' oh, the terrible language of the Mayor,
- a-kickin' over chairs in the corridor! 'To prisin,' says he, tearin' his
- hair tremendjous. 'Ye'll be shot in the mornin',' says he. Then they took
- me out the back alley, an' down here sudden, bein' punched in the back wid
- the butt ends of the rifles of a misfit soldiery, an' thim's the facts.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVI—THE TRUCE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>O spoke Jimmie
- Hagan. We sat looking at each other, and smoking silently for a moment. I
- got up and shooed the motley collection of human things around us back to
- a pleasanter distance, and sat down again to think. But still I didn't see
- altogether what Mrs. Ulswater thought she was going to do with her
- insurrection. It was a good idea of hers to keep Chepa aboard the <i>Violetta</i>.
- But a mob is like dynamite, and a person ought to have a considerable idea
- before he takes it on himself to explode one. A Portate mob is a maniac
- that cuts throats in the name of the saints, and forgets what started him,
- and he scatters destruction in all directions. For a man said to be
- without sand, I thought Hagan had done pretty well.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sor,” he said, “it's this way. I knew the Mayor long ago, an' Sadler knew
- him well, an' I know the Mayor's the same man wid the tempestchus bowels
- of him, for he's a nice man when he's cheerful, but he's not a wise man
- when there's trouble comin'. Well, sor, Sadler nor the docther ain't here,
- an' what one of them doesn't know the other does. An' some men was born to
- order and others to take orders, an' I dunno. But, if the Kid was here
- things'd be doin'. Well, sor, the docther is filled up wid handy knowledge
- more'n a bushel of pertaties wid perta-ties, but when it comes to makin'
- up his mind, it's the missis does it. The <i>Violetta</i> carries more
- contagious brains than's native in South America, an' you're askin' what
- the missis had in mind, an' I dunno. But Chepa says there's only two men
- in Por-tate can start them disabled machines for to-night's lightin', to
- say nothin' there's not a trolley runnin' in the city this day. An'
- where's those two men? One of 'em's here. The other's on the <i>Violetta</i>,
- but the Mayor don't know where he is. Well, sor, what can he do? It's not
- for me to say, but there's the populace shlingin' stones at the City Hall
- this blissid minute in persuasion of the Mayor's wickedness. An' who
- persuaded 'em of the Mayor's wickedness? Trolleys they don't so much care
- for, but there'll be lights or shootin', an' the Mayor'd needn't be
- foolish, an if ye ask me, I'll say it's the missis has got the soople
- intilligence, an' no throuble at all. Hark to 'em now!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The roar of the crowd had grown to be tremendous, and they were probably
- throwing stones. What, indeed, could the Mayor do? The peons about us were
- chattering in excited groups, and the guards at the gate were distinctly
- uneasy. If the mob came there, I could make a fair guess what the guards
- would do.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a sudden clatter in the streets, of hoofs and wheels on bad
- pavement. Again the great wooden door flew open with a bang. Entered the
- paymaster, another agitated official, and an officer in pink and white,
- who bowed and smiled at me affectionately.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are released, senor,” said the officer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I am! And this gentleman too?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Impossible, senor. His Excellency is determined. With you, senor, he
- requests a friendly interview.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He won't get it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “His Excellency is in a carriage at the door.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was not fifty feet to the open door. His Excellency seemed to have lost
- flesh with the excitement and anguish of his mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oo-aa!” came over from the Plaza, that indescribable roar.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, senor!” he cried with enthusiasm. “It is the will of the people that
- we be reconciled. Enough. We are reconciled.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not yet, Mayor. My red-haired friend here——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Impossible!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not a light, then. Bury it all, Mayor. The wisest plan.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But the proclamations! Abominable, public, infamous!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, quite wrong, of course.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You admit it!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He must be pardoned.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To-morrow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oo-aa!” from the Plaza, that hair-raising yell.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Mayor shivered. Then he gathered up his dignity with the gracefulness
- of a lady picking up her skirts, and finished the game like a fallen but
- romantic potentate. “Enough,” he said. “I yield.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We drove to the Plaza, Jimmie Hagan on the carriage-springs behind, the
- Mayor and I standing on the seat and holding hands for the public to see
- the unlimited affection we had; the paymaster and the officer in pink and
- white on the seat facing, waving their hats with unnatural joy, and the
- other official on the seat with the driver.
- </p>
- <p>
- But what a sight was the Plaza! What a howling mass of faces, open mouths,
- hands gesticulating, all fading and dimly seen at a few hundred feet from
- the carriage, for the night was falling fast.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Excellency,” I said, “you owe me thirty thousand dollars. We'll stop at
- the bank.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Just at present, senor, the public's balance is low, but——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “On the contrary—or rather, we'll step in and see.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To-morrow, senor——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Excellency,” I said, “I don't care one little bit at all whether it's out
- of the city's deposit, or your private account, or whether there's any
- difference between them. But there won't be a light till every dollar is
- paid. Moreover, this mob is nervous. Moreover, here's the bank.”
- </p>
- <p>
- We got down, and left the pink and white officer in the carriage with the
- two other officials. The Mayor stalked grimly ahead of me into the bank,
- and the thirty thousand was paid.
- </p>
- <p>
- I made the plant in a carriage in ten minutes. Three scared furnace
- tenders were there, in charge of a company of pink soldiers. Among them
- they had two dynamos more or less mutilated trying to switch them on with
- a pick-axe. At last I got things running, turned on the main switch, and
- saw the nearby streets leap into brightness.
- </p>
- <p>
- When Hagan and I came back through the town about eight o'clock, the band
- was playing in the Plaza, the people rejoicing among the palm trees, which
- were done up in bunting, and the Mayor was making a speech from the
- balcony of magistrates to the effect that Portate was a centre of
- civilisation, a second Paris.
- </p>
- <p>
- It occurred to me that I was carrying thirty thousand dollars in my
- pocket, and wasn't a steel vault. The lights were going anyway for
- to-night, and maybe some public functionary's private bandit might be
- looking for me. I ought to have deposited before going to the plant, or
- perhaps—but there was the <i>Violetta</i>, which would be safer
- still.
- </p>
- <p>
- We dodged the Plaza, and went down to the docks. Not a boatman was about.
- I untied a row boat, and we rowed out, looking for the <i>Violetta</i>. It
- was easy to distinguish her, clean and white, glimmering with bright
- port-holes. As we drew near we could see the polished brasses shining
- under the stars. The cool sea wind on the bay and the soft lapping of
- waves against the boat were pleasant to feel and hear, after the heat and
- noise of Portate. The sight of the <i>Violetta</i>, neat and compact, made
- me homesick for the temperate zone and my own people of the North,
- gray-eyed level-headed people, steady and reasonable. I felt like a
- carrier pigeon come home.
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Violetta</i>, ahoy!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVII—ON BOARD THE VIOLETTA
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">C</span>APTAIN JANSEN met
- us at the gangway. There were some changes in the look of the <i>Violetta</i>'s
- deck since last I had seen it, a year and a half before, in the West
- Indies. The awning was new. Those geranium pots were gone, which used to
- stand along the scuppers, and be carried down every night and whenever the
- weather threatened. The world had been too much for them. The same doilies
- were on the same rocking chairs. There was the brown mahogany parlour
- table. But among objects that recalled home conventions, something that
- breathed eastward, a tropic touch here and there, had been admitted. A
- huge Burmese tapestry swung from one side of the awning, and the breeze
- bayed it in, its green embroidered serpents writhing lazily above an
- honest but uninspiring sofa from Grand Rapids. Yellow Chinese mats from
- Singapore were on the deck in place of the former flowered carpet.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater sat in her familiar rocking chair, small, thin, quiet, and
- slightly precise; and on one of the mats, with her back against Mrs.
- Ulswater's chair, sat a girl in a white dress, with dark hair, with very
- definite eyebrows and a tilted, provocative nose. In front of her, on
- another mat, sat Chepa smoking a cigarette. At some distance off, a
- motionless figure in dingy white crouched in the shadow of the cabin, whom
- I took to be Ram Nad engaged in abstraction. These were the occupants of
- the after-deck.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Kit!” cried Mrs. Ulswater, dropping her knitting. Susannah sprang up and
- cried: “Did we beat the Mayor?”
- </p>
- <p>
- I told them about the insurrection, Jimmie Hagan's arrest, and the Mayor's
- surrender, and how I wanted Dr. Ulswater to take charge of The Union
- Electric's cash.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm ever so much obliged for your insurrection, Mrs. Ulswater. As to the
- Mayor—well, you've been around the world yourself since I saw you,
- and got acquainted with the Gentile. What do you think of him?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Whom do you mean by the Gentile?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The alien, the uncanny human who isn't like us. His 'best is like his
- worst,' isn't it? in our eyes, because both his best and his worst are
- different from ours.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I like him better than I expected to,” she answered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you going to keep on rearranging him?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm not so sure as I was what his arrangement is.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But the cruise of the <i>Violetta</i> has been a success, hasn't it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- After a moment's thought she said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “When it began, I didn't know what I wanted, but I thought I should know
- it when I saw it. And that was the way it turned out. I found out what it
- was, when I found it. The doctor and Susannah are most of it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It wasn't the missions, then?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not exactly. It's partly finding things to do, and doing them as they
- come along.” After a pause she said, as if changing the subject:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you think you can get on with the Mayor here, after all this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, that's the question. The Mayor has his virtues, but he doesn't like
- insurrections or paying bills. If Providence didn't afflict him with one
- or the other of those now and then, he might be a philosopher; but now you
- speak of it, I shouldn't say he was a good loser. It's one of the
- characteristics of the tropics, to carry grudges long and far.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Susannah was looking at me gravely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you make poetry?” she asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not in the way of business,” I said, still thinking of my troubles. “It's
- Portate that introduces poetry into business. If I propose to the Mayor to
- put in five hundred new lights, he proposes a procession. If I tell him
- I'm going to repaint some of the trolley cars, he announces it that night
- to the populace from the balcony of magistrates, and the populace comes
- and asks me for a free ride, and The Union Electric's employés claim it's
- a holiday. You see, Miss Romney——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, I'm Susannah?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh! Well, Susannah—You see, Susannah, Portate furnishes all the
- poetry The Union Electric Company will stand. They can't afford to let me
- decorate the situation too. That's why I have some doubts about the
- ultimatum and the insurrection. They were rather decorative, weren't
- they?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm going to make poetry about you,” said Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- She got up and walked away across the deck, in the manner of one
- conducting powerful operations with the muses. She came to where the dingy
- heap of eastern wisdom sat against the cabin wall.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ram Nad!” we heard her say, with a stamp of the foot, “you go this minute
- and get your shawl!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He rose silently, pale and venerable, and went down the companionway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He catches cold easily,” Mrs. Ulswater explained. “I told him not to sit
- out evenings without his shawl.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Chepa and Hagan had gone forward sometime before. Susannah paced the deck
- apart with folded arms, making poetry about me. Mrs. Ulswater sat in her
- rocking chair, knitting, listening, talking.
- </p>
- <p>
- I was thinking that she would have been a dangerous woman, with all that
- will and reserve, if she had not happened to be honest and kind. She could
- not help but foresee and devise. I wondered if she were plotting and
- planning at the moment, and for whose benefit. Likely it was for mine. I
- wondered if the Mayor were plotting and planning for my distress or
- destruction at the same moment. Likely he was. I didn't much care. Mrs.
- Ulswater had rearranged the tropics here and there, but they had not
- rearranged her. It was about eleven o'clock. Susannah was extraordinarily
- pretty. As the subject of a ballad by Susannah, of a plot by Mrs.
- Ulswater, and another plot by the Mayor, supposing all these things were
- going on, I seemed to be in the centre of things.
- </p>
- <p>
- At that moment the sound of oarlocks startled us. We rose and went to the
- rail. A boat drew near on the dark water. On the surface of the water the
- lights of the distant city made long broken reflections. The boat drew up
- at the foot of the gangway, and Dr. Ulswater mounted, followed by a large
- powerful man, gray-haired, with a long dangling moustache and lean throat,
- carrying on his broad shoulders a large oblong box. Behind them came up
- one of the boatman, carrying a trunk. Susannah cried:
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's in the box?”
- </p>
- <p>
- And I said, catching sight of my initials, “Where'd you get my trunk?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jansen,” said Dr. Ulswater, “get up steam. We leave as soon as you're
- ready.” A moment later we were seated under the awning; Mrs. Ulswater in
- her rocking chair knitting and nowise excited; Susannah, her hands clasped
- about her knees, back against the rocker, eagerly absorbing all things;
- the doctor, the grizzled Sadler and I, each negotiating one of the
- doctor's cigars. Chepa, with his cigarette, and Hagan, with his black clay
- pipe and extravagant hair, squatted together on the deck.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVIII—HANNAH ATKINS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>E sought you at
- your house, Kit,” said Dr. Ulswater; “we sought you also at the
- establishment where you generate that mystical fluid which now travels
- meekly, invisibly, its slender wires, and now spits like a red-hot cat.
- You electrical engineers have your fingers on the pulse of the universe. I
- admire in you the representatives of the age.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The condition of affairs in Portate was most mixed and unclassified. No
- light anywhere, except here and there a smoky lantern, and such sulphurous
- beams as the eye of imagination might detect, or conceive, gleaming from
- the bosoms of some thousands of furious citizens. We reached the railway
- station with the feeling of having been miraculously rescued. The town,
- however, was quieting down. Most of the citizens had gone home to plot
- your assassination. Your ultimatum seemed to be everywhere known.
- Evidently you were not meaning to be found that night by friend or foe,
- and therefore Sadler and I went our way in the interests of archæology.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is a national museum at the capital of this country, which contains
- an extraordinary collection of Inca relics, but is as disorderly as
- Portate emotions. Thither we went by the slowest train the ingenuity of
- man ever invented, getting what sleep we could, through the night, upon
- car seats of mistaken construction, each one of which was a populous
- commonwealth of bugs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Arrived at our destination in the morning, I found my way to the Museum,
- and presently was buried from the world, lost to the present. It must have
- been near noon when Sadler came and found me surrounded by pottery,
- weapons, tools, and the swathed bundles of the mummied dead.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Doctor,' he said; 'when's your birthday?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “I reflected.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Bless my soul, it's to-morrow! This thing's got to stop! I'll be older
- than an Inca!'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'You're a swaddled infant,' he said. I thought Mrs. Ulswater said it was
- to-morrow. I've got a present for you.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Birthdays, indeed! What had I to do with birthdays, who was reborn into
- eternity on the day I married Mrs. Ulswater! I had no use for them. I
- wished some one would make me a present of the treasures of that mixed-up
- and ruinous museum, and rescue them for archaeology. Carvings! Do you
- happen to know that the Inca signs of the Zodiac are practically identical
- with the Egyptian, that, moreover, they probably antedate them, that——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, we don't,” interrupted Sadler. “It ain't so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can prove it to any man with eyes,” shouted Dr. Ulswater, thumping his
- knee.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which I holds myself,” said Sadler, gloomily, “that any man, with eyes,
- can see as them signs of the Zodiac all comes from the jim-jams, and the
- first man that made 'em was the first man that had drunk not wisely but
- too often.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ha!” said Dr. Ulswater. “Why! Now, that's an idea! It really is!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “What was the present, and what about
- it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Susannah said, “What's in the box?” and I,
- </p>
- <p>
- “What are you doing with my trunk?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater wanted to stop there and discuss the origins of the signs of
- the Zodiac, and the orderly narrative was getting into a bad condition,
- but Sadler took it up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it was this way, ma'am,” he said. “I left the doctor at the Museum.
- Them mummies didn't look to me respectable, but maybe they are, only as
- you told me to look after the doctor, I didn't know as I'd ought to leave
- him in that there dissipated society. But I went off down the street, and
- by and by I see a man I knew, named Sanchez Beteta. He used to be a
- graceless young one, son of a poverty-stricken caballero who lived on
- Valencia Street in Portate. Beteta was walking stately and soft, and he
- had on patent-leather shoes that was pointed like pins, and he had a cane
- that was an airy vision, and a buttonhole bouquet, and fixings, and side
- whiskers, and clothes that was beautiful to make a bad egg remember its
- young dreams, and he come along like his garments was angels' wings. I
- says to myself: 'I want to be like that'; and I pokes him in the chest
- sudden and solid, and I says, sort of ingratiating:
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Where'd you steal them clothes?' I says in West Coast Spanish. He looked
- me over with a haughty eye. Then he says:
- </p>
- <p>
- “'If you're a ghost,' he says, 'I wished you'd fade away. How and why do
- you exist, aged one?' and I says:
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Get me a bouquet and a cane. I want some vanity.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then we went and got them vanities, and paraded in glory on the
- fashionable highway that's called 'The Paseo,' and he told me the origin
- of his clothes. They came from his being in the Government, a sort of
- Subcommissioner of National Monuments and Memorials, and from that
- position's having some pickings of drumsticks while his superiors was busy
- with other parts of the chicken. I told him how I'd come there, and how
- electricity had played it dark on Portate, and how Dr. Ulswater was at the
- Museum sorting out knowledge and wishing he had an Inca mummy for home
- consumption. Beteta knew about Portate. It was in the morning paper that's
- called 'El Patria.' Then he took to thinking.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Would the learned senor,' he says, 'pay a price for a royal mummy? He
- is, you say, of great wealth.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “I says: 'Why?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Because,' he says, 'I may have such an article to dispose of.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Which,' I says, 'is a fraud. It's made of mashed paper and it ain't got
- no pedigree.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Not at all,' he says, 'not at all! I scorn you. Could I, who am but an
- amateur, deceive one learned as your friend? It was in this way, simply.
- Some years ago an ancient tomb was opened and found to contain mummies of
- the family of the Inca, Huayna Capac. Of him you know nothing at all, but
- your friend does, and without doubt he knows that most of that family died
- during, or after, the Conquest. Without doubt he knows of the tomb I speak
- of and its discovery. It was described in the publications of science. Now
- the Museum is in my Department of Monuments and Memorials, and somewhat
- under my charge, because of my great interest in my country's antiquities.
- Also because of this interest I was allowed to acquire one of these relics
- for my private collection. But alas! I am unfortunate! Integrity and
- poverty go together. It rends my heart. I fear I had better dispose of my
- treasure. You will ask, “Why not to the Museum?” Again, alas! Evil tongues
- would whisper. I, an official of the Department, sell to the Department!
- My own conscience, too delicate, would shrink. But you are hardened, of an
- evil mind, a cynic. You don't understand the scruples.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Sure,' I says, 'I do. Remorse and me are bosom friends. Come see the
- doctor.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'At present,' he says, 'I have an important engagement. Bring him to my
- house at three this afternoon. Number 20, Street of the Museum.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “I went after the doctor then, and asked him would he have a birthday
- present, and what was the market price of royal mummies of the family of
- Hannah Atkins. 'Who?' says he, and I tried it again. 'Oh!' he says,
- 'Huayna Capac!'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'The same,' I says. He stated a likely price, which stumped me some, for
- Beteta had only asked about a third of that for his mummy, and I didn't
- see Beteta's game. I judged he must be an ignorant amateur on mummies.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We went to lunch, and about three o'clock we come round to Beteta's
- house. It stood side up to the side of the Museum, with a little paved
- court, or patio, between. You had to go into the patio to get into
- Beteta's house, and there was a small door in the Museum that opened on
- the patio too. Beteta let us in and showed his mummy in a box on a table,
- and it was that roped and done up in coloured cloth you could tell it from
- any sort of bundle, only there was a copper placard on it, which appeared
- to be antique.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'It has been in the Museum for some days past,' says Beteta, 'because of
- comparisons I desired to make with the other plates.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Ah!' says the doctor.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I regret that an important engagement now hurries me,' says Beteta. 'My
- house is yours, but if you go back to Portate to-day, the train leaves in
- two hours.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Oh!' says the doctor. 'To be sure, we must go back.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'So regrettable! But, without doubt,' says Beteta, 'you will return. My
- house is yours. For me, but an amateur, to make acquaintance of a learned
- archaeologist, how grateful! You find here materials for packing. My house
- is yours. Adios, senores. The public servant is not master of his time.
- Adios, senores. My house is yours.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then he took his cash and left us, we feeling sort of surprised.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'What's your expert opinion?' says I.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Why,' says the doctor, putting on his glasses again and looking wise, I
- think you and your intimate friend belong to the genus gammon, species
- humbug; but his mummy is all right.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'If it's a sure Hannah Atkins, that's what I'm asking,' I says. 'I guess
- Beteta ain't even an amateur on mummies, and he's skeered of conversation
- with you. I guess you're right there.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “We packed Hannah Atkins, and toward five o'clock I shouldered the box.
- Some populace saw us come from the patio and followed us to the station,
- wondering what a caballero, with a cane and a buttonhole bouquet, and a
- box four foot long on his shoulder, and a amiable large party in a white
- vest behind him, was doing with that there combination of circumstances.
- So we caught the train and started for Portate. There was another man I
- used to know on the train. He was a Scotch engineer in the employ of The
- Transport Company and named Jamison.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIX—MR. JAMISON
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>ADLER paused. I
- knew Jamison too.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What was Jamison coming to Por-tate for?” I asked. “Did he say?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He did,” said Sadler. “His conversation was meaty. I'm makin' a dramatic
- pause.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then he paused some more.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't think much of that birthday present!” said Susannah, scornfully.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then I'll expand your imagination, Susannah,” said Dr. Ulswater. “Huayna
- Capac was the great Inca who died in 1527, the year Pizarro landed. Three
- of his sons contended for the throne, Huascar, Atahualpa and Manco, but
- how many other children he left is nowhere stated, to my knowledge. The
- marital system of the royal house, however, being such as it was, it is
- probable they were numerous. The mummies discovered some four years ago
- were five in number, each with a copper plate sewn to the cerements, and
- inscribed, ostensibly by one Padre Geronimo Valdez. Each of the
- inscriptions states that the enclosed person was a daughter of Huayna
- Capac, who had been baptised and buried by himself, Padre Geronimo. The
- date given on this plate is 1543. We have yonder then, in all probability,
- all that remains of a daughter of the Incas.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It isn't expanded at all,” said Susannah, meaning her imagination.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What was her name?” asked Mrs. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Curiously,” said Dr. Ulswater, “the inscription doesn't state.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Her name's Hannah Atkins,” said Sadler.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater. “What happened next?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater continued the narrative. “Mr. Jamison was a Scotch person,
- with dusty eyebrows and considerate eyes, his speech compact of caution
- and a burr. Sadler told him of our acquisition and inquired about the man
- Beteta.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Because,' I added, 'if the gentleman is no amateur of mummies, why
- should he have a mummy in his possession? And if he hadn't any,—if,
- in fact, he stole it from the Museum,—why should he risk so much for
- the no great sum the mummy is worth, in fact, for the yet smaller sum
- which he received? It seems more probable that in some way it must have
- been his.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I hae doots of it,' said Jamison, drily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Does he know anything of archaeology?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I hae doots of it.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Did he steal it, then?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I hae doots it was something resembling that, though maybe no
- precisely.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'For that absurdly small compensation?' “'I hae doots about the size of
- it.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'What for, then?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I hae doots ye'll find some pink military at Portate that'll maybe
- explain.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sadler here burst into spacious laughter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'We're speeding to our doom, doctor,' he said. 'Ho, ho!'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I hae doots, said Jamison, 'he may have it,' said Jamison.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'But,' I said, 'that doesn't explain Beteta.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I hae doots,' said Jamison, 'he may have an understanding with his
- Department.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Why,' I said, 'you grow in mystery, Mr. Jamison. You cover the land with
- darkness. If the sum he received was too small to explain him by himself,
- it is surely too small to explain an arrangement implying a distribution.
- Ha!' I exclaimed. Let me consider.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Right you are, doctor,' said Sadler. 'You have the idea now. He wan't
- anywhere round when we left.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly, on consideration it seemed to me, that if we were accused of
- ourselves extracting her whom Sadler insists on calling Hannah Atkins—feloniously
- from the Museum, we would have some difficulty in proving the culprit to
- have been Beteta.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Beteta,' said Jamison, slowly, after a pause, 'has some sma'
- penetration. Without knowing much about archaeology, he might consider
- that a gentleman with a steam yacht is maybe a man of some substance, that
- might pay a bit more for immunity than for a mummy. For the interests of
- the Museum, he might consider it proper to attract a strategic
- contribution from a foreigner. I hae doots the appropriations for the
- Department of Public Monuments and Memorials don't support its offeecials
- to their satisfaction. He might arrange the circumstances so that the
- circumstances would be suffeecient. He might so put it to persons who
- might be suffeeciently authoritative to make it suffeeciently safe. They
- might send an authoritative despatch to the Mayor of Portate. I have a bit
- of information the facts are no so far from that supposition. No that I'd
- care to be an authority for the statement.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'He's an infernal scoundrel!' I exclaimed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'It may be so,' said Jamison, 'but he has some sma' penetration. It's my
- recollection too that our friend Sadler was in no verra good odour with
- the authorities when he left some years ago. Folk said he ran away a wee
- bit surrepteetiously, or maybe he'd deny that.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sadler again roared with laughter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I hae doots Beteta has the penetration to remember that too,' said
- Jamison.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'However,' I said. 'Kirby will see us through.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Aye! Kirby? Is he a friend of yours?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “I told him of my old friendship with Kit.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Oo! Is it so? But I hae doots Kirby has troubles of his own. I hae doots
- it would be better to keep the two troubles apart.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here Sadler got up suddenly from his seat, asking of Jamison:
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Say, does Steve Dorcas live where he used to?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Aye,' said Jamison. 'He does.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Well,' said Sadler, 'it's this way, doctor. Seeing I got you into it, I
- guess it's mine to get you out,' and he left the car. I asked who was
- Dorcas.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Oo—he's superintendent of The Transport Company,' said Jamison,
- 'but I doot if Sadler will be able to find him the night. His house is
- outside of Portate a bit. We pass it on the railroad.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “He paused and looked thoughtfully through the window. The night was
- falling. A desolate country indeed, a sandy and rocky desert, is this
- coastland, for the most part. I was reflecting that, if Sadler had a plan,
- I might as well take what comfort was passing, whatever meat of
- conversation on several subjects this shrewd Scotchman might afford. I
- started on the subject of South-American archaeology, but Jamison did not
- respond. His mind seemed to be elsewhere. At last he said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Ye'll maybe make a reasonable compromise, if Dorcas is with you, and I
- hae no great doots but he will be, for he was friendly with Sadler once.
- And leaving that, I'll no deny I'm going down to Portate myself on a
- soommons from Dorcas, but it's no aboot you and your mummy. It's to take
- charge of The Union Electric's plant. Whereby, as you're a man, I see, of
- no sma' penetration yourself, doctor, ye'll be seeing it's likely Kirby's
- no expected to be in a poseetion to run the plant to-morrow night.' “'It
- seems to follow, Mr. Jamison,' I said, 'that the Mayor means to arrest him
- tomorrow.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “He nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I hae some information he did so this morning, but I opine the Mayor will
- be letting him out this night to run the plant, or Portate will be dark
- again.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'On account,' I questioned, 'of there being no train that would get you
- to Por-tate before ten?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Your penetration is no sma' matter, doctor,' he said. 'It's working
- well.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'It's a wild thing, Mr. Jamison,' I continued, after some thought, 'a
- frivolous intelligence, a restless and turbulent member. Its mad quest
- after information is always making me trouble. It wants to know now how
- you and the Superintendent of The Transport Company happen to be so
- willing, not to say eager, to get into collusion with these corrupt and
- debt-dodging municipal thieves in Portate, and thereby to spoil Kirby's
- most enlivening and pleasant stratagem for collecting a just debt. It
- wants to know whether Kirby's being in jail is any personal gratification
- to either of you gentlemen.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “He broke into a dry but not unkindly laugh.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'No personal, doctor. Kirby is a good man. Oo—a wee bit hasty and
- cocksure, but he's only a lad. But your penetration is doing well. I'm
- thinking it might better go on.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'On your suggestion, it will,' I assented. 'The Transport Company and The
- Union Electric are rivals presumably. Presumably, then, the former has no
- objection to winning favour with the authorities at the expense of the
- latter. Waiving the question of fairness or morality——'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Aye, better waive 'em,' said Jamison, drily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Waiving them entirely,' I said, 'The Transport Company seems to be in
- line with prosperity at the present moment.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here Sadler came back in the car.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Engineers and conductors are easy on this road,' he said. 'One dollar
- apiece. We'll pull up where the road crosses to Dorcas' place, and
- disappoint that there pink military.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Verra good,' said Jamison, nodding kindly. 'I'll go with ye, and I'm
- thinking we'll be there in a few moments now.' Presently the train slowed
- down and stopped. Sadler shouldered Hannah Atkins, and we got out. The
- train went on its way. The glimmer of the not distant city showed that the
- electric plant was working. To the left some distance stood a large house
- among trees, and to it a road ran from the railway crossing. It stood near
- the bank of the river, a yellow, stuccoed house with a patio. A man who
- met us at the door exclaimed:
- </p>
- <p>
- “'What, Jamison! What, what! Why, why! Sadler! Come in, come in. What's
- that box? How d'ye do? Have a cigar! Have a drink. Good Lord!'
- </p>
- <p>
- “He was introduced to me as 'Steve Dorcas.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXX—MR. DORCAS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>E was short,
- thickset man with a stubby chin whisker, an incessant energy, and an
- amazingly choppy manner of speech.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Just so; just so,' he said when he had heard our circumstances and
- needs. 'Drive you around myself. Do it myself.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shortly thereafter he was driving us with two small ferocious horses
- through the starlit night, over tumultuous roads, circling the city, in
- order that—without passing through it, or meeting its expectant pink
- militia or gend'armerie—we might get to some point on the bay where
- a boat could be obtained to the <i>Violetta</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'I see, I see,' he said. 'You'll have to get away. Get away. Before
- daybreak. Beteta. Know him well. Damn rascal. Right, Jamison! Right.
- Clever old boy, Jamison. Old boy. I was up City Hall. City Hall. Five
- o'clock. Saw Mayor. Saw despatch. No names though. Said Museum was robbed.
- Description. No names. How should I know? Too early, though. Beteta ought
- to have waited. Seven o'clock. Time enough. Damn fool. Make no great
- difference. Maybe not. Humph! Good enough case. Got you short. Eh? Few
- thousands. Blackmail. Wouldn't do. Eh? Keep the mummy? Lord, yes. Your
- game. Whoa! Here's Kirby's house. See if he's here.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Singular conversationalist, Mr. Dorcas. His discourse resembled the
- precipitous flow and fall of successive bricks. He pulled up before that
- house of the picket fence, visited by Sadler and myself the night before.
- But all was dark, not a window lit, no one within.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We could see, however, the low buildings, tall stacks, and shining
- windows of the electric plant some distance away. Jamison departed for the
- plant, saying he would tell Kirby we were there, if Kirby were at the
- plant. Dorcas fastened his horses to the picket fence. We sat on the edge
- of the porch and held council.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Kirby in bad hole,' said Dorcas. 'Mayor crazy. No lights. Snuffed out
- the city. Cool, but risky. These boys, Lord! What nerve they have! Don'
- know. Might have worked, maybe. But that riot. Bad. Irish. Jimmie Hagan.
- Red hair. Proclamations. Hot. Printed too. Hagan had 'em. Mayor's
- tenderest corns stepped on. Insurrection. Sedition. Mob. File of soldiers.
- Dead wall. Bang! Dead Irish. Next, Kirby took the riot. Clubbed the Mayor
- with it. What! Collusion with rebellion. Humph! Got his bill. Yes. But the
- Mayor's got him. Never forgive. Never!'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Irish!' said Sadler. 'Proclamations nothing! Irish never got up an
- insurrection.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Did too,' said Dorcas, diving into his coat. 'Here. Got a copy. See
- here!'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'He must have run into Chepa,' said Sadler. 'Chepa used to have sand, and
- he's Kirby's foreman, now, ain't he? We heard so. Him and Irish used to be
- with each other like a man and his pug dog, and each of 'em thought the
- other was the pug dog. That's a proper international relation, ain't it?
- Wrath of God!' says Sadler. 'Look here! Chepa never did this by his
- lonesome.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “He read aloud the proclamation:
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Citizens, rise! The Mayor tyrant has arrested the electric lights! The
- Mayor, betrayer of the people, has put in jail Kirby, friend of the
- people! The Mayor thief has stolen the people's taxes to buy gilt
- furniture! The Mayor pig eats the people's taxes! Therefore is he fat and
- shaped like an egg which within is bad. Kirby, friend of the people, is
- desolate because he cannot buy more electricity, because the Mayor sneak
- will give him no money which the people gave him! Release Kirby or Down
- with the Mayor! Shall Portate be darkened forever? Citizens, are you
- slaves? Citizens, be not deceived! Citizens, rise!'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Chepa nor Irish didn't do that!' said Sadler.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Peppery, ain't it!' said Dorcas. 'Red hot. Who did it! Don' know. Kirby,
- maybe. Don' know! Done for himself now. Sure.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Mr. Dorcas,' I said, 'why shouldn't Kirby sail with us to-night?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Maybe he won't. Likely not. Here's Jamison.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jamison came up deliberately. He said there were some men tending the
- furnaces and dynamos who thought either Kirby or Chepa would be back
- before midnight. Senor Kirby had said he was going to visit a foreign
- vessel in the harbour. They knew no more.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jamison thought he would go back to the plant, and so said farewell.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Why, there!' I said; 'He's on the <i>Violetta</i> already. But
- undoubtedly there will arise a point of duty, of responsibility. But you
- are a responsible man, Mr. Dorcas. You may be playing a game of your own,
- but my impression is it will be, on the whole, a decent game. I'm willing
- to be convinced it is, however it may look not over friendly. At any rate,
- Kirby knows you, if I do not.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Knows me!' Dorcas said. 'Knows me! You're right. Point's this: He's done
- for himself. <i>Persona non grata</i>. Poison to the Mayor. Spoiled the
- Mayor's face. I'll see to property. Cable Union Electric. Send another
- man. Tell 'em he did well. All considered. Overdid it some, maybe. Bad
- hole. No good here now. Cats and dogs. Fines. Thirty thousand up the spout
- again. Damages. Anything. Queer country. Got to play it, you know. Same as
- a trout. Better clear out.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “I said, 'But in that case what are we doing here? He'll want to come here
- to pack up, and as we leave before daybreak, he'll have no time to spare.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dorcas shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Better not. Things happening now. City Hall. Pretty likely. Military
- here most any time. Despatches to Beteta. Despatches from Beteta. Gunboat
- after your boat. Don't know. Point's this: Whose a burglar? I am. Pack up
- for him. Why not?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sadler said, i don't know Kirby, but I'll take the liberty of busting his
- window, if that's all. Looks to me as if one had been busted here
- already.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “He put his hand through the broken window pane and unfastened the window,
- and we entered, leaving Dorcas with his horses.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Our selections from your apparel and other properties, Kit, I trust
- you'll find to have been judicious.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dorcas drove us to the north side of the bay and routed out the men who
- rowed us here. They are, I believe, employés of The Transport Company.
- Dorcas refused to come with us.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Better not,' he said. 'Point's this: tell the Mayor I haven't seen him.
- No collusion. Mayor's friend. You tell Kirby. Write me letter. I'll wait
- here. Send it back. Power of attorney. Take charge. Responsible. I say so.
- Tell him. Goodbye, gentlemen. Glad to've known you. Good-bye.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Having arrived then,” concluded Dr. Ulswater, “it remains to inquire if
- we've done well. If not, the boatmen are waiting, but if we have——”
- Here Dr. Ulswater leaned forward, and put his hand on my knee.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear boy, I believe I speak for Mrs. Ulswater too. We've been the
- round of the world, missing you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As I thought it over, it seemed to me plain that Dorcas was right. He and
- Jamison were very decent sort of men. If Dorcas took the responsibility,
- the property would be safer with him than with me, supposing I was in
- jail. Could I serve The Union Electric better, under the circumstances,
- than by running away, as a sort of scapegoat, carrying off The Union
- Electric's ill-odour with the Mayor, along with the thirty thousand? The
- Company ought to be satisfied. I didn't like running away. I longed for
- another crack at the Mayor. I looked at Mrs. Ulswater, at the doctor, at
- Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- I supposed Dorcas was right about the ultimatum too, if the doctor had
- reported his jerky hints correctly. He had lived in the country almost as
- long as I was old, and was clever and wise. I had felt proud of that
- ultimatum. It was new and bold and spectacular. But Dorcas had put his
- finger on the flaw in it, the injury to the Mayor's prestige, by which
- nothing was gained and much was lost. He might have pardoned being held
- up, if it could have been done behind the door, though I didn't see how it
- could have been done. He might even have pardoned the ultimatum, but there
- were Chepa's proclamation, whose blasting rhetoric was Susannah's—Susannah's
- genius and Chepa's idiom—and Mrs. Ulswater's insurrection in
- general, and my taking advantage of it—why, Dorcas was right there,
- at least. The Mayor had a whip-hand now, for the Government would back him
- up now with a case for international argument. The riot was bad business.
- It looked as if Mrs. Ulswater were not so infallible as the doctor
- thought. I wasn't altogether a success either. The Union Electric might or
- might not think me all right, but Dorcas was right, and The Transport
- Company had won a point over us by having elderly wisdom to manage its
- affairs in Portate, instead of a young one whose nerve was longer than his
- head. Anyhow, the milk was spilt.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll write to Dorcas,” I said, getting up. “I seem to have run through my
- usefulness.” While I was writing in the cabin I could hear the chain and
- wheel where the crew was hauling in anchor. The hands of the cabin clock
- pointed to one o'clock.
- </p>
- <p>
- Had Mrs. Ulswater contracted a habit of <i>coups-d'état?</i> Certainly her
- riot didn't look like workings of infallible good sense.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXI—SUSANNAH—END OF THE VOYAGE OF THE VIOLETA
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>F Mrs. Ulswater,
- then, had planned her riot in order to make my position in Portate
- untenable—as a sort of explosion of blasting powder to loosen me
- from South America, it seemed reckless. It was not like her to make a mess
- of a man's business in order to please only a notion of hers to have him
- in her floating asylum. She had had, as I remembered her, a curious awe of
- business. It was implanted in her, I supposed, by Mr. Mink of Ohio. One
- would say offhand, of course, that she had meant, by these incendiary
- proclamations, merely to frighten the Mayor into releasing me, and had not
- seen beyond that. Of course, that might be the case.
- </p>
- <p>
- But when I asked her just what was the extent of her plan, she seemed
- reserved, and wanted to talk of settling somewhere in the States again.
- She thought Portate a past issue. She wouldn't say whether or not her
- conscience was clear about the riot, but she didn't seem to be troubled.
- She was figuring about what kind of place would interest Dr. Ulswater to
- live in.
- </p>
- <p>
- We were to go first to San Francisco, where the doctor meant to ship
- Hannah Atkins to the Eastern museum for which he collected. She asked my
- advice about a place to settle in. Doctor Ulswater was fond of unsettled
- travelling and might be hard to satisfy. She didn't find my advice of much
- use. I judge there were too many rolling waves of moonlit imagination in
- it. Something seemed to be lacking, but she wouldn't say what the flaw
- was. I suspected she wasn't precisely stating the nature of her aim and
- purpose. She began to consult Sadler instead of me, and I took to running
- down Hannah Atkins to Dr. Ulswater, so as to induce his eloquence, calling
- her obsolete and stolid, or criticising the way she'd been laid out rather
- hunched up; and he would pour out South-American archaeology till
- everybody took a new interest in life. All you had to do to start him,
- like a spring flood in a thirsty land, was to begin something like this:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course,” you'd say, “I'm not real well acquainted with mummies, and
- I'll take your word Hannah's a good specimen of her kind, only I'd call
- her laying out pretty economic and bunchy; and of course she's not in it
- with an Egyptian mummy for a minute, but we won't quarrel about that,
- though on the outside she's pretty much like a bag of meal, and when
- opened up, the difference is all in favour of the bag of meal; but that
- isn't the point—-” and so on. Give him an opening, and he'd shed
- knowledge like rain off a roof, till you felt glad to be alive.
- </p>
- <p>
- Or else I would go off with Susannah and help her write her poem on me.
- That poetry was so candid that it got away from me. It soared off on the
- wings of truth, and dealt too much with pure facts. My nose not being
- straight, it stated the fact, not brutally, but simply. Any weakness I
- had, and there was a rhyme for it, down it went, and if there wasn't a
- rhyme, she just planted it in the beginning of the line instead of at the
- end. Technical difficulties never balked her of that. There were one
- thousand, two hundred and fourteen lines before we got to California. I
- wouldn't take a fortune for that poem. It was more than a photograph. It
- fitted me like the skin of a snake. But that's not its main value.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “Kit Kirby was an engineer,”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- it began.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ So handsome and so debonair.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- “Handsome!” I said, feeling interested. Susannah took an observation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Some.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you oughtn't to say 'so' when you mean 'some.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- She scratched out and wrote:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “Some handsome in respect to him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- But I was new at literary criticism or I wouldn't have made that mistake.
- It went on:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “But very crooked in his nose,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And very vain about his clothes!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- I objected:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all, Susannah! Neat and cleanly!”
- </p>
- <p>
- She corrected:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “And neat and cleanly in his clothes,”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- which shows the value of literary criticism.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then the poem went through with the circumstances of the Portate
- Ultimatum, the Hannah Atkins plot, and the sequel of those complications.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “And everything was in a muss,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And so he ran away with us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- Now, from that point on, it went along something like a diary. It recorded
- daily incidents, reflections, comments, the shades and modifications of
- Susannah's opinion of me. It was minute, microscopic, and detailed. It
- went into unsuspected corners, and hauled things out, and delivered
- judgments on them. If the book of the Recording Angel is put together on
- that model, it's surely a good model. Perhaps the first sight of the
- record and analysis will make a man squirm. But I wouldn't ask for a
- better Recording Angel than Susannah, or a judge on the whole more just.
- But that is not the main value of the poem to me. It began to strike me in
- a new light when I discovered that Susannah had my sins on her conscience.
- </p>
- <p>
- There were entries like these:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent30">
- “June fifth.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “The night is dark as it can be,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- The rain is falling on the sea,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And every one of us is gay.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Kit was very good all day.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent30">
- “ June tenth.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “ Georgiana Tupper died,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I cried a lot, and then I cried
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Because Kit did not care a fly,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- But said he did, and told a lie,”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- This was a kind of light to stand in, not only searching, but one that
- manufactures repentance faster than a man can dispose of the goods.
- </p>
- <p>
- Two things began to dawn on me: first, that, although, as the subject of
- Susannah's poem it was natural I should be all around in it, on the other
- hand, looking at the poem as a diary, I was more ubiquitous than seemed
- reasonable: second, that the diary was getting on my nerves. In fact,
- passing time was becoming a sort of running commentary on Susannah. It
- dawned upon me that Susannah and I had fallen into the habit of occupying
- each other's horizons. Then said to myself, “I'm in for it. It's the way
- the world is made.” This was toward the end of June. The <i>Violetta</i>
- was in sight of the California coast, and the blue mountains of the Coast
- Range were a fringe along the eastern skyline by day.
- </p>
- <p>
- One night I sat with Sadler, looking across the water toward where our
- native land lay in the darkness, he twankling on his banjo and I thinking
- of the condition of being a running commentary with an occupied horizon.
- By and by he began to mutter and grumble into a sort of tune whose joints
- didn't fit. On the whole, as a tune, it was an offence to music, and
- didn't agree with my idea of what is morally right. But it surely suited
- him. He began to sing to it, and the words didn't suit me either.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “When first I kissed Susannah—
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- The facts I state precise—
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- The forty million little stars
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- They winked their little eyes,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- They seemed to say, 'You dassn't'—
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I guessed the same was true,—
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- They seemed to say, 'I reckon things
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Will happen if you do';
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- When first I kissed Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “When first I kissed Susannah,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I wondered if I dared;
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I see some little stars go out,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Implying they was scared;
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I see a porpoise lift his head
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And pop his eyes and drool;
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- And all the sea lay flat and prayed,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- 'Lord help this poor damn fool!'
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- When first I kissed Susannah.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “When first I kissed Susannah—
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- The facts I state 'em free—
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- She never done a single thing
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- To knock the head off me.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- She melted like a snowflake,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- That's crystal, keen and white,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- That turns a drop of water,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- That glimmers in the night,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- When first I kissed Susannah.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a long silence.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course,” I said at last, “I might be mistaken, for though you're some
- stiff maybe with ancientness, still you've got weight and experience, and
- accident and foreordination ought to be allowed for.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure they ought. You're right, sonny. That there's a good balance of
- facts.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Allowing for all that then, still I'd like to remark that if you kiss
- Susannah again, I'll knock the head off you myself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Sadler twankled on peacefully.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is them sentiments genuine?” he asked, “Which I wish to inquire if
- they're the offspring of wrath.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They are!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” he said, “it's this way. Scrapping is roses and raptures to me,
- but the facts don't allow it. The facts of that poem ain't in my
- experience but yours, which is why I'm weeping to the moon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They're not in mine either.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They <i>ain't!</i> Well, why ain't they?” Then he swore in a slow,
- plaintive manner.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They ain't! Well, why ain't they? That's what I want to know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He went off leaving me reflecting about all the things a man misses. Then
- I thought about the way things are linked together, one thing happening
- because of another.
- </p>
- <p>
- For if the King of Lua hadn't roused Mrs. Ulswater's wrath so that she had
- to carry him off, she wouldn't have carried off Sadler too; and if Sadler
- hadn't been a poet, probably Susannah wouldn't have been either; and if
- Susannah hadn't begun a poem on me, it wouldn't have turned into a
- semipublic diary; and if I hadn't seen her diary, and seen it grow from
- day to day, I wouldn't have got into that tumultuous condition. Susannah
- saw through me, as if I were a window pane, but the window, through which
- I saw into Susannah's secrecy, was her diary.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last I got up and went down into the cabin. Susannah was not there, but
- the doctor was reading to Mrs. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mrs. Ulswater,” I said, “is Susannah too young to be kissed; that is, by
- me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't you mean too old?” she asked quietly, without looking up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I mean too young.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Ulswater was silent a moment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose she is. But not too young for us to make plans.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did you have a plan, Mrs. Ulswater?” I asked after a while.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You needn't pretend you didn't know what it was.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suspected it when it began to succeed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater took off his glasses and pointed them vaguely at me.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As to the date of your suspicions,” he said, “you are an authority, but
- as to the date of the success of Mrs. Ulswater's plan, you are in error,
- in error. Mrs. Ulswater's plans begin to succeed when she begins to make
- them. The beginning of the end is coincident with the beginning of the
- beginning. She has an arrangement with destiny. She i——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stuff!” said Mrs. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all! Not at all!” he cried. “I'll bet Hannah Atkins to a fresh
- infant that Mrs. Ulswater laid the lines of your future a year and a half
- ago, and started for a predestined Island of Clementina, and collected a
- foreordinate orphan whom she had spotted from the description of the late
- Mr. Tupper. 'Susannah,' she said to herself, 'will do for Kit. We'll go to
- Clementina.' Pundits, prime ministers, and reigning monarchs she picked up
- by way—populations rioted as she found convenient—mere
- incidental details to a further end. Through helplessly remonstrant
- oceans, through a universe undisciplined and disorderly, she pursued the
- judicious tenor of her way. Here and there she altered the trend of
- history. It was nothing. Missions! Not at all. Her purpose was to make a
- match. The feminine mind——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Ulswater.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXII—ZIONVILLE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N San Francisco
- Dr. Ulswater set about despatching Hannah Atkins eastward, and I got into
- communication with The Union Electric Company. Sadler disappeared. He went
- with Dr. Ulswater to see Hannah Atkins despatched, and then disappeared on
- business of his own.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater wired east: “Goods shipped by S. P. as per letter to follow.”
- Two days later he received a telegram from the East: “What's the trouble
- with your shipment?” He wired back: “Don't know of any trouble,” and
- received this mystic and portentous reply: “Held up at Zionville.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Zionville! Where and what was Zionville? Dr. Ulswater and I were to find
- out. How shall one answer the question: “What is Zionville?” We may begin
- in this way:
- </p>
- <p>
- A stranger visiting Zionville to-day, if he is one with eyes to see
- understanding, will notice that the distinction of the place, in some
- singular and subtle way, seems to come together and concentrate on its
- cemetery, a noble enclosure with an imposing arched gateway. He will
- wonder how and why.
- </p>
- <p>
- If he takes my advice, he will inquire first for Babbitt's Hotel. He will
- find there a long veranda with thin green pillars, many cane-backed
- chairs, and many occupants of the chairs. Of these occupants let him
- inquire for William C. Jones. It may well be that one of the occupants
- will be William C. Jones. Let him fall into casual conversation with
- William C. Jones. He will find him full of local patriotism, elderly,
- cross-eyed, a lawyer by profession, a man of harsh voice, and manner of
- speech as indirect as his left eye; of a bleak and barren face, heavy,
- morose, shaped like a Bartlett pear, with light eyelashes and no eyebrows;
- a man of statesmanlike carriage, with care up on his forehead. Let the
- stranger, pointing to the cemetery's tallest monument, at last inquire:
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's that monument for?” Maybe, if he should speak of it as “that
- pillar of distress,” or some such equivocal term as might suggest a doubt
- whether he liked its architecture, it might be a good plan. Then William
- C. Jones will fasten on either side of his questioner a glassy diagonal
- stare, and speak something to this general effect, inquiring:
- </p>
- <p>
- —Whether you are a sarcastic and facetious party, or one that has
- misspent his youth and means to die sudden and ignorant; and if so,
- whether you are inclined to ribaldry, and don't know a real serious
- subject from a can of spoiled beans; or are merely a sort of Hottentot
- party, disguised in a different and on the whole inferior kind of
- homeliness, with features not well assorted, morals depraved, and
- intellect omitted; and if so, whether on that account you ought to be
- excused for illiteracy respecting that world-renowned monument, or were
- not well brought up, and possibly intend better than you talk.——
- </p>
- <p>
- In that way the subject will be fairly opened.
- </p>
- <p>
- Under the guidance of William C. Jones let the stranger go about, listen,
- and observe. He will hear that originally Zionville was the offspring of a
- gold mine. He will see that at present she lies in the midst of orchards
- and vineyards. Superficially, she is a small and happy city lying between
- the flat plain of the Sacramento and the lower foothills of the Sierras.
- In reality she is a personage. No origins account for Zionville, and no
- appearances define her.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater is fond of drawing fine distinctions between what he calls
- “the phenomenal and noumenal Zionville,” between “the objective and the
- subjective Zionville,” between Zionville as she appears to the senses and
- “Zionville as such.” This is all more or less beyond me, but I'd go so far
- as to admit that “Zionville as such” is a personage without parallel in
- the solar system, without example in the Milky Way. How shall I describe
- her? She is romantic, and incurably young. She is nonchalant, and yet
- interested. She is open, unashamed, and yet impenetrable.
- </p>
- <p>
- When Dr. Ulswater and I first saw her, she appeared to consist of some
- hundreds of ramshackle houses thrown down anywhere, a few handsome
- residences on the hillsides, a couple of brick blocks, a high school, a
- jail, three churches, Babbitt s Hotel, and an outlying Chinatown. There
- were no sidewalks then to speak of, except on Main Street. There were some
- gas lamps, but nothing electric, and nothing that looked like a cemetery.
- Westward lay the plain, eastward the wooded hills and lonely canyons.
- Nothing spoke outwardly of Zionville s aspirations, her hopes and dreams.
- And yet she stood there in a crisis of her history.
- </p>
- <p>
- It is well established now that there are three great dates in Zionville
- history, of which the first marks the discovery of the Eureka Gold Mine,
- and the second the Reformation. Opinion agrees that before the Reformation
- she was already a personage, but admits that her morals were seedy; that
- morals was not a subject to which she gave any great attention.
- </p>
- <p>
- The history of the reform movement is a volume by itself. The subject of
- morals once called to her attention, she went at it with her
- characteristic ardour and efficiency. Anything labelled “Morality” she was
- ready to try. She set her mind on higher things. She became conscious of
- her destiny. A new era dawned. She discarded her old name. The name
- “Zionville” dates only from the Reformation. Her former name is expunged
- from her records. No public-spirited citizen ever mentions it now.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater and I stepped, then, from the train, and looked about us, and
- saw a drowsy, shiftless looking town, loafing, sprawling at the feet of
- the hills. We cared nothing for Zionville. We were looking for Hannah
- Atkins. We wanted to know what brigand of the Sierras was low-down enough
- to hold up a lady of her age, discretion, decent poverty, and illustrious
- descent. We asked the station master if he had any news about him
- concerning such and such goods, so and so labelled.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was a small man with pale eyes. No sooner had Dr. Ulswater spoken than
- his pale eyes glowed with purpose. There was a sudden and mysterious light
- in them. It was the reflection of the torch of Zionville. It was our first
- glimpse of Zionville's pure flame.
- </p>
- <p>
- He sprang up. He ran past us without speaking, out through the open door,
- and sped up the dusty street. We stood alone in the silent, empty station.
- The doctor walked to the door, adjusted his glasses, and gazed after. I
- followed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Doctor,” I said, “Hannah's got into trouble. Maybe she stopped off for
- breakfast and didn't pay her bills.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was beyond the reach of jibes, listening, gazing at the phenomena
- before him. We both looked. We saw Zionville waking up, shaking her mane,
- pealing her eagle eye, girding her loins and unlimbering herself. First
- one figure, then another appeared in the hot sunny street; then groups,
- throngs, gathered and martialled. The dust rose so thickly as to hide
- them, but the distant murmur grew, and now we heard the thump of drums,
- the clash of cymbals, the piping of fifes. The brown dust cloud came
- rolling down the street toward the station; through it we soon discerned
- the approaching procession, men and women and a fringe of clamouring
- children.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mad!” said Dr. Ulswater. “Why, it's a palpably insane community! What do
- you conjecture they're after?” I said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Maybe it's Hannah's pedigree. Maybe it's us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The dusty procession was upon us. We were seized and thrust into the
- middle of it. The tumult, the shouting, and the noise of semi-musical
- instruments was so great that if anybody attempted to explain or answer
- questions, I didn't make it out. I noticed that the confusion was really
- superficial. Nobody seemed to be in command, every one seemed to have a
- hand in what was going on—whatever it was—and some common
- understood purpose seemed to guide it all. It was an organised miscellany.
- Up the the street we went through the dust, drums, cymbals, fifes, and
- flags before and after. We turned at last, crowding up the alley where a
- large hall used to stand behind Gregson's grocery. Whoever in Zionville
- was not in that hall was looking in through the windows.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXIII—WILLIAM C. JONES AND LOUISA
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>T the upper end of
- the hall was a low platform, on the left side of which sat twelve men on
- benches. At the right end of the platform stood that familiar oblong box
- that contained the last tabernacle of Hannah Atkins. The covers were off.
- There were signs about her of considerable investigation. A table stood in
- the centre of the platform and behind it sat a very small man, with a long
- silky black beard and very delicate features.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gentlest and suavest of men! He was called “Louisa,” this magistrate. For
- if he had, hanging disconsolately in the rear of his history, the family
- name of “Bumper,” it was nothing to the point. The sure taste and
- discretion of Zionville always refused it.
- </p>
- <p>
- At that time he was Justice of the Peace, and Coroner, and some other
- things, and in after days Mayor of Zionville. His voice was sweet, tender,
- soothing, a sort of a tenor warble; his manners were beautiful, and
- language flowed from him like molasses from a spigot.
- </p>
- <p>
- In front of the platform stood a man of features reminding one of the
- Sahara Desert. This was William C. Jones, the Public Prosecutor.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dr. Ulswater was in a condition of wrath. With him a condition of wrath
- implied a condition of eloquence. We being hauled up before that soft and
- subtle child, Louisa, with Louisa, W. C. Jones, and all Zionville wanting
- to know all about Hannah Atkins all at once,—being, in fact, for the
- first time face to face with Zionville, that unique phenomenon,—any
- kind of behaviour on our part would be likely enough; but on account of
- haste, and on account of some punches in the back due to the ardour of the
- occasion, Dr. Ulswater had emotions in his head that kept discharging his
- hand upwards from his head in a series of explosions, and he started in to
- give his opinion of Zionville, and let off opinions in volleys and
- artillery playing wonderful. But Louisa flowed over him like molasses over
- a hot griddle cake:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Later, sir, later, we shall be happy to discuss with you the foibles of
- our society, but what we are interested in now is how this party, in this
- here truncated coffin, came to be travelling through Zionville in this
- here noncommittal manner; also, as to what may be the names, titles,
- pretensions, antecedents, residences, of yourself and friend; also of the
- noncommittal party aforesaid; also what may be your connection with that
- party. These, sir, are the points on which Zionville desires to be
- informed. But perhaps this other gentleman can give us some succinct
- statement, some short cut to the information this community is after.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I gave Louisa our names, and told him the party he referred to was a
- foreign lady that went by the name of “Hannah Atkins,” at least lately she
- been so called though I had reason to believe it was an alias, or a
- corruption of her title and pretension.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I thank you, sir,” said Louisa, sweetly. “We progress, and your
- statements reasonably agree with the information we already have. And now
- possibly Dr. Ulswater will entertain us with some still eloquent but more
- pertinent remarks, some exhilarating but not too gruesome anecdotes,
- illustrating the immediate causes of this lady's decease.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The doctor took a new start. He made some flourishing archaeological
- statements about the Incas and the antiseptic qualities of the Andean
- climate, and then he sailed off on the high seas of South-American lore
- and his own enthusiasm over Hannah Atkins. But he was still somewhat
- flustered and confused. There was a growing tumult round about. I judged
- Zionville didn't follow him. Louisa said it wouldn't do, and William C.
- Jones rose up gloomy and bleak, and his forefinger started arguing up and
- down like a walking beam. He wanted to know:
- </p>
- <p>
- —Whether them hideous words, unaccounted for by any civilised
- alphabet, was the names of Mrs. Atkins' ancestors, or of the last heathen
- jurymen that had tried him (Dr. Ulswater) for some previous harrowing
- crime; and if so, whether remarks made in the Choctaw language on
- insurance statistics, such as his (Dr. Ulswater's) remarks appeared to him
- (the speaker) to be, were not likely to impress an intelligent jury as
- intended to mislead and deceive; and if so, whether he (Dr. Ulswater)
- didn't mean,—before justice was summarily executed upon him by the
- aroused public spirit of Zionville,—to brush his hair and procure a
- set of whiskers less weedy and revolting; and if so, whether he meant to
- depose that this here deceased party came by her death naturally or not;
- and if so, whether he hadn't no better account to give of his possession
- of the same than incoherent statements, which plainly was meant to evade
- inquiry with irrelevant excursions into doubtful tradition——
- </p>
- <p>
- “Doctor,” said Louisa, “I grieve to have misled you. I intended to make
- plain the desire of the jury for information, not on the subject of this
- lady's remote ancestry, but as to how she came by her death, and why she
- was travelling around, not as an authenticated corpse, but as an inorganic
- freight, addressed to some more or less mythological institution, some
- abstract idea on the other side of the continent. Do I now make myself
- clear, sir? Do I understand you to depose her death to have been violent
- or natural?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How the blazes should I know?” cried the doctor, exasperated.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The defendant, gentlemen, deposes that he don't know. The defendant, in
- fact, declines to testify on the point.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She's a mummy!” shouted the doctor. “A mummy! What's the matter with this
- maniac of a town? If you don't know what a mummy is, I'm telling you. I
- know all about her that anybody knows,” and he went on to tell what he
- knew, but William C. Jones bore him down, inquiring with the voice of
- calamity:
- </p>
- <p>
- —Whether them figures he (Dr. Ulswater) was giving was the
- dimensions of the city of Cuzco, or the age of Mrs. Atkins' parents at the
- time of her death, or the geography of the Andes, or the story of Mrs.
- Atkins' young romance; and if so, whether he (Dr. Ulswater) was acquainted
- with her in youth; and if so, whether she was as yellow at that time or
- affected since by a fever of that colour; and if so, inasmuch as his (Dr.
- Ulswater's) statements seemed to imply that he was no relative but only an
- admirer of Mrs. Atkins, whether his (Dr. Ulswater's) manifestly false and
- absurd statement that she was upwards of four hundred years old and her
- complexion complicated with considerable paint, wasn't an unchivalrous
- statement, that throwed doubts on the genuineness of his (Dr. Ulswater's)
- boasted admiration; and if so, and there was any museum in Connecticut
- unscrupulous enough for such barbarous inhumanity, and Mrs. Atkins and Dr.
- Ulswater ever arrived there—in defeat of justice—whether they
- was intended to be exhibited in the same show case; and if so, whether the
- promiscuous and opprobrious language he (Dr. Ulswater) was at present
- using was by him thought calculated to benefit his case——
- </p>
- <p>
- “Doctor,” said Louisa, “Zionville is pleased to know you. Under other
- circumstances your evanescent humour would delight us beyond measure. But
- it is the opinion of the Court you ought to be informed that this is a
- moral town. Yes, sir. Not insanity but morality is what's hit us. It's the
- moralest town this side the Divide. We've got that reputation with the
- sweat of our virtues. There was a time when anybody found in possession of
- a corpse might be asked what he was going to do with it, or he might not,
- according to idle curiosity or intelligent interest. But times are
- changed. We make a point now of asking where he got it; which is, of
- course, a sacrifice of perfect courtesy to exacting morals. We admit it.
- But, sir, you have projected this here casket loaded with moral dynamite—if
- I may so state it—into this here moral community, and yet you claim
- not to know 'What the blazes'—if I quote correctly— she died
- of. The Court deprecates this distrustful attitude. The Court regards such
- reserve as suspicious, incriminating. In response to pertinent and proper
- questions you indulge some humorous statements regarding—if I caught
- the word—“mummies,” some jocular reference to the venerable
- appearance of the deceased—as the Court supposes. The Court has
- already inferred deceased was an Injun, and therefore don't care about the
- rest of her ancestry. You admit, sir, you know all about her, that you are
- in complete possession of the facts so far as known to any one. And yet,
- omitting the one pertinent fact, namely the cause and circumstances of her
- death, you deliver an uncalled-for lecture on Injun customs. The Court
- deprecates this learned frivolity. The Court penetrates your foolish
- subterfuge. The Court proposes to inform you of the evidence in its
- possession bearing on this case.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Here Louisa took a document from his pocket.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The following letter,” he said, “was received day before yesterday,
- addressed 'To The Magistrates of Zionville.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “'<i>Gentlemen</i>:—-
- </p>
- <p>
- “'On the 14th, probably on the afternoon east-bound freight, there will
- enter Zionville and endeavour to pass through a suspicious looking box
- addressed to some institution in Connecticut that may or may not exist.
- The undersigned is not informed. But the undersigned is well informed that
- the consignor of said box passes under the name of James Ulswater.” Now,
- if on examination of that there box, the Magistrates of Zionville is of
- the opinion that this yere “James Ulswater” is a party that oughtn't to be
- at large, the undersigned ain't going to dispute that opinion, undersigned
- being of the opinion the contents of said box is, or was once, a
- respectable middle-aged woman, with some Injun blood in her, and named
- Hannah Atkins, as to occasions of whose death it ain't for him to say.
- Only he don't take no stock in “James Ulswater's” remarks on the subject.
- They don't inspire no respect in his bosom. As to how “James Ulswater”
- came into possession of Mrs. Atkins' remains, the undersigned believes
- James Ulswater has something up his sleeve that he dassent tell. To what
- end then is “James Ulswater” shipping Mrs. Atkins, without sign of
- mourning or mortuary symbol, but with stealth, concealment and disrespect,
- over the innocent track and guileless freight agencies of the S. P. R. R.?
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Yours truly,
- </p>
- <p>
- “'A Former Citizen of Zionville who Believes in her Destiny and Honours
- her Morals.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gentlemen,” said Louisa, “do the suspicions of our fellow citizen appear
- to you justified?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The jurymen nodded one after another, like a row of tenpins.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do the prisoner's remarks inspire confidence in your bosoms?”
- </p>
- <p>
- One after another the jurymen shook their heads.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then the Court directs the sheriff to remove the elderly party calling
- himself 'Ulswater,' and his presumable accomplice, the younger party with
- the particular necktie and advantageous trousers, calling himself 'Kirby,'
- and that the sheriff hold these parties for further action. The Court is
- adjourned.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXIV—AMBASSADORS FROM ZIONVILLE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T seemed to me I
- was getting into the habit of incarceration. I passed from jail to jail.
- It was becoming monotonous.
- </p>
- <p>
- But this was a creditable jail, built in the fervour of the Reformation,
- with a considerable veranda in front facing on Main Street. In the fervour
- of the Reformation it had been, as you might say, a centre of interest in
- Zionville. So many citizens got enclosed there during that period for one
- reason or another connected with their not understanding the tendency of
- events, that this jail always had a peculiar social standing. It was not
- like the jails of other communities. It bore no necessary social stigma.
- If a citizen was deposited there, it made all the difference, and depended
- on the amount of repentance his case was supposed to call for, whether he
- was put in a front or a rear cell. Because in a front-windowed cell he
- could see Main Street, and maybe talk with friends in the street, or join
- in the conversation on the veranda. In this way the Judge and the
- condemned of the preceding afternoon might often be arguing in the evening
- through a barred window about politics or religion. Hence it always made a
- man vexed and low in mind to be put in a rear cell, where he couldn't see
- Main Street.
- </p>
- <p>
- Doctor Ulswater and I were put in a cell over the veranda, and through the
- barred window we could see the length of Main Street, which ran from the
- railway station, at one end of the town, to nothing in particular, as yet,
- at the other end. Main Street now runs from the railway to the cemetery,
- but at that time it ran off into generalities.
- </p>
- <p>
- Main Street at that moment was full of a crowd which acted as if it all
- belonged to one family. I could see Louisa standing on a dry-goods box and
- talking confidentially to the family. There was a general session of
- Zionville on Main Street. I judged we were the subject of conversation,
- along with Hannah Atkins. William C. Jones and two other statesmen were
- walking around arm in arm. The whole place was buzzing like a beehive.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then I noticed that Dr. Ulswater was not saying anything. He was looking
- over my shoulder through the bars silently, and all anger was gone from
- his face.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Kit,” he said, mildly, “this is a town of great interest to archaeology.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I thought it over, and said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Seems to me it'd be of more interest to Mrs. Ulswater's orphan asylum.
- It's too fresh. It's the most youthful-minded place I ever saw. I don't
- see any archaeology in it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Precisely,” he said. “The youthfulness of Zionville struck me too, and
- that not so much because of her crude appearance as because of her
- buoyancy. I said to myself, 'Clearly we are home again. This is no Latin
- mob of Portate, no explosion of firecrackers, no furious inefficiency.
- This is gunpowder in a gun. Here is the organising instinct, the jocular
- humour, together with the deadly arrival. We are in the States.' But yet I
- was not satisfied with that, and those considerations are not what's
- hoisting me now. Cast your eyes back over the late events. Look from this
- window on that people in their market place, their forum, their agora.
- Recollect how Zionville got herself together. What unity? What esprit de
- corps? You recognise it? Ha! No! It's Greek, sir, Greek! It's the civic
- clan, the municipal State. So looked the Athenians, so they acted in their
- market place. We have arrived not only in the States, but in Zionville.
- Now, what is Zionville? A piece of antiquity! Archaeology in flesh and
- blood! Pompeii be hanged. This is better than Pompeii. This is a
- reversion, an atavism!”
- </p>
- <p>
- I said: “You'd better not deal out suspicious sounding names like those
- within hearing of Zionville. She's high-bred and nervous. If you mean
- she's a town with a character, I agree. She has more character than a
- bucking bronco.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mysterious and extraordinary town,” he muttered. “Ha! You're right.
- 'Character' is the word. Personality! Personality fascinates me. I haven't
- the article myself. I'm a nebulous gas. Hence I thirst for, I cling to,
- personality. Most mysterious, most interesting town!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't deny the interest, doctor,” I said, “but it seems to me it's sort
- of concentrated around the question whether or not that crowd is going to
- take a notion to lynch us. It looks like a crowd that takes notions. Would
- an Athenian populace be likely to act that way?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Precisely,” he cried with enthusiasm. “Look at Socrates!”
- </p>
- <p>
- It seemed to me Zionville had some game going on, but I didn't make out
- what the game was. It seemed to me a lynching would be little short of
- frivolous. But then the Athenians had acted frivolous about Socrates.
- Zionville was surely an unexpected place. But the crowd in Main Street
- didn't act like an angry crowd. It acted interested.
- </p>
- <p>
- At this moment the door of our cell opened and Louisa and William C. Jones
- walked in. They sat down on a bench without speaking, and there they sat
- and seemed to be embarrassed, and William C. Jones' left eye was searching
- sideways for the cosine of x, and he began to question:
- </p>
- <p>
- —Whether coming in a spirit of conciliation or to speak last words
- of warning or entreaty; and if so—
- </p>
- <p>
- And there he stopped, as if he couldn't quite get his gait.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Maybe you're ambassadors,” I said, “ambassadors from Zionville.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The very word, sir,” said Louisa, looking pleased. “Ambassadors from
- Zionville.” And William C. Jones began again to indicate his doubts:
- </p>
- <p>
- —Whether a certain document received by Magistrates was intended to
- further public interests, or private ends, or mixed in motive; and if so,
- whether Dr. Ulswater's account of deceased party in question might be
- accepted by Magistrates and apologies tendered, according to attitude he
- (Dr. Uls-water) might hereafter assume; and if so, whether he (Dr.
- Ulswater) would rather the deceased party in question should be
- confiscated as incidental to judicial proceedings whose results, although
- likely to be fatal to him (Dr. Ulswater) and his accomplice, Zionville
- could no more than vainly regret, public interest being of first
- importance; and if so, whether Dr. Ulswater would consent to deliver over
- Mrs. Atkins peaceably, for a consideration, to the necessities of
- Zionville, and thereby win an honourable place in her (Zionville's)
- history; and if so, whether he would state his mind on that point without
- incommoding the subject with the conquest of Peru, or the natural history
- of South America, and thereby would accommodate the Magistrates; and if
- so, or whether it would be necessary to return to the Court house in order
- to hasten proceedings to the end that he (Dr. Ulswater) and his accomplice
- might be hung before the shades of evening softly descended, in the
- interests of justice and the destinies of Zionville; and if so, whether he
- would accept or decline the said proposition,—
- </p>
- <p>
- “Doctor,” said Louisa, sliding in like syrup. “Allow me to state briefly a
- few pertinent facts. Zionville is a moral town. It's the moralest town you
- ever saw. But, sir, we see the necessity of getting this atmospheric
- morality embodied in substantial institutions. We have already a high
- school with an Eastern college graduate at the head. We have three
- churches provided with clergymen, not one of whom dares show himself on
- the street without a choke collar. And, sir, we have a cemetery; that is,
- so far as a fence around it, and an excellent grave, well excavated, goes
- toward providing such an institution; which, however, public opinion is
- unanimous it don't go far enough. For there was once a time in Zionville
- when there'd have been no particular difficulty on this point, but those
- days are passed. In those days, when anybody was dead,—as might
- happen perhaps by perforation, and airiness in vital parts,—and if
- he was worth while, we used to ship him to Sacramento to get a ceremony
- ready made; and if he wasn't worth while, we didn't take much notice where
- he was planted; and therefore there wasn't any cemetery that anybody could
- find if he wanted one. Such were our customs and traditions in those days.
- But Zionville reformed. She took up with sackcloth. She sat down to mourn,
- and she rose up reformed. 'Morals,' she says, 'shall be my watchword.
- Morals,' she says, 'that's me.' Sir, since then there ain't anybody died
- in Zionville whatsoever, none whatever at all. But sometime ago there was
- a man named Jim Tweedy, who got indented with a chimney falling on him, to
- that extent he looked not only dead but disreputable, and you couldn't
- have told him from any other miscellaneous débris. And one of our esteemed
- citizens, named Pete Chapel, he got officious and jubilant, and went off
- by himself, and dug a sepulchre on some land that belonged to him out the
- end of Main Street. But was Jim Tweedy dead? Doctor, he was not! But he
- played off he was for forty-eight hours, and then he came to, and looks
- around the corners of himself, and says, 'Blamed if I ain't all
- triangles!' but he wouldn't have a thing to do with that location Pete
- Chapel had fixed up for him particular. He rejected it with indignation.
- Indeed, he was perhaps not justly to be blamed, though he's never had the
- standing in the community he had before, on account of our feeling he was
- a man that couldn't be relied on when public interest was concerned,
- besides looking discreditable on account of indentations in his surface;
- nor it couldn't be denied that Pete Chapel's position was uneasy too,
- seeing it was allowed as up to him to provide something for the situation.
- So he put up Tweedy's grave for a raffle, and it fetched a good price,
- over the value of the land about it, on account of public spirit in the
- town. After that it changed hands considerable, the price fluctuating
- according to rumours of indispositions, or strangers in town looking
- warlike. It went up and down till it got to be a sort of thermometer of
- Zionville's condition of depression, or confidence in its destiny. At last
- it fell into the hands of William C. Jones, here present, who donated it
- to Zionville, and Zionville put a fence around the property and
- denominated the same a Cemetery. Such and so far is the history of this
- institution. But, sir, we feel that our Cemetery has not as yet attained
- its proper standing in our community by formally entering upon its career
- of public usefulness. Our morality forbids the thought of too direct
- action to that end. It has been suggested that time would remedy this
- want. True. But meanwhile Zionville sees its progress stayed, its
- development halted. Now, sir, Zionville discerns in Mrs. Atkins an
- extraordinary fitness for this purpose. William C. Jones and I have
- consulted. We discern a rare opportunity, a crisis in Zionville's history.
- We have consulted with our fellow citizens, and they have took to the idea
- like a nigger to a watermelon. Our determination is inflexible. A monument
- has been ordered from Sacramento. The ceremonies are arranged whereby to
- plant Mrs. Atkins, whereby to inaugurate our Cemetery conformable to the
- spirit of our citizens. The San Francisco press has been notified to send
- representatives. All is prepared. Name your price, sir. It's yours. Name
- your conditions. They're granted. The antecedents of Mrs. Atkins are the
- most essential elements in her value, and we hope to see them, in your own
- eloquent language, indelibly engraven on the monument.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, bless my soul!” said Dr. Ulswater. “What good would a Peruvian mummy
- do you? Why don't you bury a buffalo and call it a bishop? What's the
- idea?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fame,” said Louisa.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fame? fame? But look here! Mummies belong in museums!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very good,” said Louisa. “Ain't a cemetery a museum? Alas, sir! a
- collection of various mortality?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dear, dear! You'll be the death of me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Whether it shall be possible,” began William C. Jones, “to avoid
- compassing your decease through obstinacy and public interests, being the
- object of this interview; and if so——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your honour,” said Dr. Ulswater with a grand gesture. Nobody could beat
- him for elegance when he was in trim—“Your honour,” he said,
- interrupting W. C. and addressing Louisa, “I beg the privilege of donating
- Hannah Atkins to Zionville, and to the service of her fame. To the
- interests of archaeology Zionville is more than a legion of mummies.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Louisa ran to the window, thrust his hat through the bars and waved it,
- and we heard Zionville break forth in one simultaneous pean.
- </p>
- <p>
- But when Dr. Ulswater and I came out of the jail and joined the rejoicing,
- when—as the subject and centre of rejoicing—we came down
- opposite Babbitt's Hotel, there we saw, on the veranda of it, Sadler six
- feet two, and engaged in sinister meditation against a green pillar. Then
- I knew he had written the Letter to the Magistrates.
- </p>
- <p>
- He came down from the veranda to join the rejoicing, and when I claimed to
- see into his insidious villainy, he looked depressed; but Dr. Ulswater was
- surprised and delighted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By hookey!” he said,—For since his marriage to Mrs. Ulswater he had
- come to swear always by innocuous things, and he was hard put to it
- sometimes for satisfaction; hence sometimes his objurgations were
- familiar, and sometimes recondite.—“By hookey!” he said, “Sadler, I
- knew there was something Zionville reminded me of. It was you!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I belonged to her,” said Sadler, sadly, walking along with us—“before
- she reformed. She wollered in her nakedness then, and we both found out
- that sin was monotonous. Since then we've each took a shy at the spiritual
- life and found it was sportier'n the other. But still I don't know if her
- Sunday School clothes will fit me. But, doctor,” he concluded, “if it
- suits you and Mrs. Ulswater to sojourn and abide here, I'll try on them
- clothes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXV—THE END
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N the history of
- Zionville the dates of the Discovery of the Eureka Mine, of the
- Reformation, and of the Burial of Hannah Atkins, are like 1492 and 1776 in
- the history of this country. Whether those foreseeing statesmen, William
- C. Jones and Louisa, had reasoned the whole thing out or not, is now the
- question. For Sadler claimed that the statesmanship was all his, and that
- Louisa and W. C. were trying to jump his claim. He and Louisa and W. C.
- Jones used to sit on the veranda of Babbitt's, and argue which of them
- ought to be pensioned, and have a bronze statue, and brass band to play
- for him at meals. Sadler's argument was that he came down on the heels of
- his Letter to the Magistrates, with the whole menu cooked in his own mind.
- He saw to it himself that Hannah stopped over. Louisa and W. C. Jones
- argued that the menu developed in the cooking, that is, under discussion,
- to say nothing of the delicate handling which lay to their credit.
- Moreover, they argued that Sadler had mostly in mind the private need that
- lay in his nature to get even with the Ulswaters for shanghaiing him off
- Lua. That was one of W. C. Jones' strong arguments against him, whereby
- there fell a shadow of suspicion on his (Sadler's) purity of motive. He
- had wanted to draw Dr. Ulswater to, and get him interested in Zionville,
- where he, Sadler, had lived when he was younger, and before he went over
- to Asia, and got the gray ashes of Asia on his head. He had a sentiment
- for Zionville, as have all who breathe her air.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I used to sit,” he said once, “in that there monastery in Rangoon, in
- Burmah, with a yeller robe on, and I'd contemplate the same idea for hours
- and days, same as Ram Nad is doing out there in the dust, which I don't
- see why Ram Nad can't do his meditating somewhere else besides up against
- that hitching post to employ one able-bodied man on detail to see nobody's
- horse don't step on him—Here, Bobby Lee! You call your dog off the
- prophet, or I'll come around and spank the fattest side of your trousers!—Well,
- by and by, what with turning that idea over and over, it'd get smooth and
- round like a billiard ball, and by and by I'd get into a condition where
- I'd begin to see things running round the ball, like the colours on a soap
- bubble, and them visions got mixed up with the daylight. But about once in
- three times when I'd got a vision pinned down so I could make it give its
- name, it was nothing but Main Street from the station to Babbitt's Hotel.
- That was the peculiar thing in the cultivation of my soul's garden. I
- guess their wasn't another garden like it in Burmah. When I started after
- Nirvana, about once in three I fetched up at Babbitt's.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which,” said W. C. Jones, “is a proper sentiment, but it don't prove you
- was onto Hannah.”
- </p>
- <p>
- I don't know either just why Ram Nad liked to meditate against the
- hitching post in front of Babbitt's. He got into the habit of it when the
- Ulswaters, and all theirs, lived at Babbitt's. It was before they built
- the big stone house on the hill, from whose porch one could see thirty
- miles to where the <i>Violetta</i> lay at anchor in the river. Ram Nad
- never got over the habit of the hitching post. He'd sit there placidly in
- the dust, with somebody's pony jingling a chain bit over his head, and
- somebody's dog investigating the conical basket, whose perils no dog could
- ever understand. Zionville was more than used to Ram Nad. He was one of
- the assets of the town. He could squat down where he liked, provided it
- was conspicuous and handy for pointing out to tourists. He was part of
- Zionville's fame—he and his basket and his dingy long beard, dingy
- cotton clothes, and brown bony ankles—a sort of public institution.
- He ate and slept at Babbitt's, or at the Ulswaters', or anywhere he chose.
- As I recollect, in his later years, he wore a Navajo blanket that Sadler
- gave him, of a fiery red that burnt a hole in the atmosphere. I recollect
- the Chinamen from Chinatown that used to drop around and consult him at
- the hitching post, but what about I don't know. He appeared to be an
- institution with them too, a sort of high priest or spiritual adviser.
- </p>
- <p>
- So lived Ram Nad in Zionville. So he died in Zionville by a unanimous
- agreement with himself. He left off breathing one afternoon, in the
- sunlight, by his hitching post, calm and harmonious, in a Navajo blanket.
- </p>
- <p>
- But I was speaking of the burial of Hannah Atkins, and what person, in
- truth, ought to have a bronze statue in front of the City Hall, with a
- laurel wreath on his head, and one finger pointing toward Hannah's
- monument.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of course, any man, of any likely town in the West, advertises his town.
- It's the subject of his daily conversation and his nightly dreams, for
- it's not merely a casual coincidence of people, but an enterprise that
- every inhabitant has stock in. So far Zionville wasn't peculiar. But no
- other town would have grasped and gathered in the possibilities of Hannah
- Atkins. The question is, Whose genius first foresaw those possibilities?
- </p>
- <p>
- It is some years past now. And yet a tourist on the Overland train now and
- then still drops off and asks to see where Hannah Atkins was buried. But
- Oh! that great day of the Burial! Reporters came up from San Francisco to
- attend, and Dr. Ulswater's oration was a monument in itself. And Oh! the
- great days that followed! Zionville became celebrated, suddenly and
- superbly, renowned. Fame jumped upon her. It proclaimed her the healthiest
- town on earth, not to say the most singular. There was a time—a
- short time, we admit—when nearly every newspaper in the land had its
- item about Zionville. It was enough. Dr. Uls-water, William C. Jones,
- Louisa, Sadler, Ram Nad, all, especially Hannah Atkins, had a period of
- limelight fame. Europe and America spoke of Zionville. The world stopped
- its business a moment and gave her a cheer.
- </p>
- <p>
- The thing was done. Zionville was as well known as Uneeda Biscuit, and
- launched on her career of increase. Her boom was started.
- </p>
- <p>
- As phrases from the Declaration of '76 have entered into the national
- language, so phrases from Dr. Ulswater's great speech are embedded in
- Zionville usage. “Centripetal point of envious resort,” were words to be
- remembered and repeated. “Here we lay,” said Dr. Ulswater, “the
- cornerstone of our fame,” and Zionville roared simultaneously! “He means
- Hannah!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Born in purple of an extinct American dynasty,” said Dr. Ulswater, “she,
- whom we here deposit, is henceforth become the symbol around which the
- affections of this democratic community are gathered, the cynosure of our
- pride, the nucleus of our respectful regrets.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The statesmen of Zionville, then, saw and grasped their opportunity,—Zionville's
- peculiar gifts, her imaginative reach and supple unity of action being
- with them. They demonstrated this fact, this principle, in the floating of
- a municipal enterprise, namely, the automatic action of the newspaper
- paragraph.
- </p>
- <p>
- Now, no one questions the talents, no one grudges the praise, of Sadler,
- of William C. Jones, of Louisa. They foresaw an automatic paragraph in
- Hannah Atkins. They developed and put that automatic paragraph in action.
- But the question is: What seminal mind first bore this seed? Where lay
- that creative spark of genius, of forecasting insight and prophetic
- statemanship? Who first conceived the idea?
- </p>
- <p>
- Susannah and I have long been married. We still occupy each other's
- horizon. In the same way Dr. Ulswater is apt to see Mrs. Ulswater on the
- horizon. She is perhaps a superstition of his.
- </p>
- <p>
- And yet, whenever I hear the Burial debated, and the idea of it traced
- through William C. Jones, Louisa, and Sadler, I seem to see, talking with
- Sadler in the evening on the deck of the <i>Violetta</i>, a small, thin,
- quiet woman, knitting, sewing. Sadler himself does not remember what she
- said. Probably her words were few. He remembers that it was there certain
- things took shape in his mind. He remembers describing Zionville to her,
- and how his sentiments got lively while he did so, and that Mrs. Ulswater
- was interested, and little by little he saw it all, clear as a map, before
- him. Was Mrs. Uls-water's then the seminal mind? If you ask her, she says
- “Fiddlesticks!” If you ask Dr. Ulswater, he says, “Not one imaginable,
- remote doubt of it!”
- </p>
- <p>
- I say nothing. Only I see Mrs. Ulswater on the deck of the <i>Violetta</i>,
- knitting, sewing.
- </p>
- <p>
- Even so she sits to-day, knitting, or sewing, on the porch of the stone
- house on the hillside. Below lies the city of Zionville, busy, booming,
- with its trolley line and electric lights, which I put in for The Union
- Electric. On the further hillside stands the Sanatarium; built and managed
- by the Uls-waters. Mrs. Ulswater sits in her rocking chair, caring nothing
- for bronze statues, little known of newspaper paragraphs, knitting the
- welfare of her fellow men, sewing, embroidering their destinies, mending
- their misfortunes. Forward and back goes the restless thrusting thimble;
- the fine needle glitters, is gone, and reappears.
- </p>
- <p>
- So Athens lay below the Acropolis, where stood the bronze statue of
- presiding Pallas, leaning on her spear. It was an idle weapon. The main
- business of Pallas was to take in glory. Looked at in one way, it was a
- foolish business. In Zionville Mrs. Uls-water turns all that over to
- Hannah Atkins, to any one who can stand it. Mrs. Ulswater is a deity from
- Ohio, and does not care for the parti-coloured bubble of glory.
- </p>
- <h3>
- THE END
- </h3>
- <div style="height: 6em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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