|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!”