Frederick the Great. “How that rain would have fazed him if he had been!
The human race would have been wiped out.”
“Oh, pshaw!” ejaculated Noah, deprecating the unseemliness of the
quarrel, and putting his arm affectionately about Bonaparte’s shoulder.
“When you come down to that, I was French—as French as one could be in
those days—and these Gallic subjects of my friend here were, every one of
’em, my lineal descendants, and their hatred of rain was inherited
directly from me, their ancestor.”
“Are not we English as much your descendants?” queried Wellington,
arching his eyebrows.
“You are,” said Noah, “but you take after Mrs. Noah more than after me.
Water never fazes a woman, and your delight in tubs is an essentially
feminine trait. The first thing Mrs. Noah carried aboard was a laundry
outfit, and then she went back for rugs and coats and all sorts of
hand-baggage. Gad, it makes me laugh to this day when I think of it!
She looked for all the world like an Englishman travelling on the
Continent as she walked up the gang-plank behind the elephants, each
elephant with a Gladstone bag in his trunk and a hat-box tied to his
tail.” Here the venerable old weather-prophet winked at Munchausen, and
the little quarrel which had been imminent passed off in a general laugh.
“Where’s Boswell? He ought to get that anecdote,” said Johnson.
“I’ve locked him up in the library,” said Holmes. “He’s in charge of the
log, and as I have a pretty good general idea as to what is about to
happen, I have mapped out a skeleton of the plot and set him to work
writing it up.” Here the detective gave a sudden start, placed his hand
to his ear, listened intently for an instant, and, taking out his watch
and glancing at it, added, quietly, “In three minutes Shem will be in
here to announce a discovery, and one of great importance, I judge, from
the squeak.”
The assemblage gazed earnestly at Holmes for a moment.
“The squeak?” queried Raleigh.
“Precisely,” said Holmes. “The squeak is what I said, and as I always
say what I mean, it follows logically that I meant what I said.”
“I heard no squeak,” observed Dr. Johnson; “and, furthermore, I fail to
see how a squeak, if I had heard it, would have portended a discovery of
importance.”
“It would not—to you,” said Holmes; “but with me it is different. My
hearing is unusually acute. I can hear the dropping of a pin through a
stone wall ten feet thick; any sound within a mile of my eardrum vibrates
thereon with an intensity which would surprise you, and it is by the use
of cocaine that I have acquired this wonderfully acute sense. A property
which dulls the senses of most people renders mine doubly apprehensive;
therefore, gentlemen, while to you there was no auricular disturbance, to
me there was. I heard Shem sliding down the mast a minute since. The
fact that he slid down the mast instead of climbing down the rigging
showed that he was in great haste, therefore he must have something to
communicate of great importance.”
“Why isn’t he here already, then? It wouldn’t take him two minutes to
get from the deck here,” asked the ever-auspicious Le Coq.
“It is simple,” returned Holmes, calmly. “If you will go yourself and
slide down that mast you will see. Shem has stopped for a little
witch-hazel to soothe his burns. It is no cool matter sliding down a
mast two hundred feet in height.”
As Sherlock Holmes spoke the door burst open and Shem rushed in.
“A signal of distress, captain!” he cried.
“From what quarter—to larboard?” asked Holmes.
“No,” returned Shem, breathless.
“Then it must be dead ahead,” said Holmes.
“Why not to starboard?” asked Le Coq, dryly.
“Because,” answered Holmes, confidently, “it never happens so. If you
had ever read a truly exciting sea-tale, my dear Le Coq, you would have
known that interesting things, and particularly signals of distress, are
never seen except to larboard or dead ahead.”
A murmur of applause greeted this retort, and Le Coq subsided.
“The nature of the signal?” demanded Holmes.
“A black flag, skull and cross-bones down, at half-mast!” cried Shem,
“and on a rock-bound coast!”
“They’re marooned, by heavens!” shouted Holmes, springing to his feet and
rushing to the deck, where he was joined immediately by Sir Walter, Dr.
Johnson, Bonaparte, and the others.
“Isn’t he a daisy?” whispered Demosthenes to Diogenes as they climbed the
stairs.
“He is more than that; he’s a blooming orchid,” said Diogenes, with
intense enthusiasm. “I think I’ll get my X-ray lantern and see if he’s
honest.”
IX
CAPTAIN KIDD MEETS WITH AN OBSTACLE
“EXCUSE me, your Majesty,” remarked Helen of Troy as Cleopatra accorded
permission to Captain Kidd to speak, “I have not been introduced to this
gentleman nor has he been presented to me, and I really cannot consent to
any proceeding so irregular as this. I do not speak to gentlemen I have
not met, nor do I permit them to address me.”
“Hear, hear!” cried Xanthippe. “I quite agree with the principle of my
young friend from Troy. It may be that when we claimed for ourselves all
the rights of men that the right to speak and be spoken to by other men
without an introduction will included in the list, but I for one have no
desire to avail myself of the privilege, especially when it’s a
horrid-looking man like this.”
Kidd bowed politely, and smiled so terribly that several of the ladies
fainted.
“I will withdraw,” he said, turning to Cleopatra; and it must be said
that his suggestion was prompted by his heartfelt wish, for now that he
found himself thus conspicuously brought before so many women, with
falsehood on his lips, his courage began to ooze.
“Not yet, please,” answered the chairlady. “I imagine we can get about
this difficulty without much trouble.”
“I think it a perfectly proper objection too,” observed Delilah, rising.
“If we ever needed etiquette we need it now. But I have a plan which
will obviate any further difficulty. If there is no one among us who is
sufficiently well acquainted with the gentleman to present him formally
to us, I will for the time being take upon myself the office of ship’s
barber and cut his hair. I understand that it is quite the proper thing
for barbers to talk, while cutting their hair, to persons to whom they
have not been introduced. And, besides, he really needs a hair-cut
badly. Thus I shall establish an acquaintance with the captain, after
which I can with propriety introduce him to the rest of you.”
“Perhaps the gentleman himself might object to that,” put in Queen
Elizabeth. “If I remember rightly, your last customer was very much
dissatisfied with the trim you gave him.”
“It will be unnecessary to do what Delilah proposes,” said Mrs. Noah,
with a kindly smile, as she rose up from the corner in which she had been
sitting, an interested listener. “I can introduce the gentleman to you
all with perfect propriety. He’s a member of my family. His grandfather
was the great-grandson a thousand and eight times removed of my son
Shem’s great-grandnephew on his father’s side. His relationship to me is
therefore obvious, though from what I know of his reputation I think he
takes more after my husband’s ancestors than my own. Willie, dear, these
ladies are friends of mine. Ladies, this young man is one of my most
famous descendants. He has been a man of many adventures, and he has
been hanged once, which, far from making him undesirable as an
acquaintance, has served merely to render him harmless, and therefore a
safe person to know. Now, my son, go ahead and speak your piece.”
The good old spirit sat down, and the scruples of the objectors having
thus been satisfied, Captain Kidd began.
“Now that I know you all,” he remarked, as pleasantly as he could under
the circumstances, “I feel that I can speak more freely, and certainly
with a great deal less embarrassment than if I were addressing a
gathering of entire strangers. I am not much of a hand at speaking, and
have always felt somewhat nonplussed at finding myself in a position of
this nature. In my whole career I never experienced but one irresistible
impulse to make a public address of any length, and that was upon that
unhappy occasion to which the greatest and grandest of my
great-grandmothers has alluded, and that only as the chain by which I was
suspended in mid-air tightened about my vocal chords. At that moment I
could have talked impromptu for a year, so fast and numerously did
thoughts of the uttermost import surge upward into my brain; but
circumstances over which I had no control prevented the utterance of
those thoughts, and that speech is therefore lost to the world.”
“He has the gift of continuity,” observed Madame Récamier.
“Ought to be in the United States Senate,” smiled Elizabeth.
“I wish I could make up my mind as to whether he is outrageously handsome
or desperately ugly,” remarked Helen of Troy. “He fascinates me, but
whether it is the fascination of liking or of horror I can’t tell, and
it’s quite important.”
“Ladies,” resumed the captain, his uneasiness increasing as he came to
the point, “I am but the agent of your respective husbands, _fiancés_,
and other masculine guardians. The gentlemen who were previously the
tenants of this club-house have delegated to me the important, and I may
add highly agreeable, task of showing you the world. They have noted of
late years the growth of that feeling of unrest which is becoming every
day more and more conspicuous in feminine circles in all parts of the
universe—on the earth, where women are clamoring to vote, and to be
allowed to go out late at night without an escort, in Hades, where, as
you are no doubt aware, the management of the government has fallen
almost wholly into the hands of the Furies; and even in the halls of
Jupiter himself, where, I am credibly informed, Juno has been taking
private lessons in the art of hurling thunderbolts—information which the
extraordinary quality of recent electrical storms on the earth would seem
to confirm. Thunderbolts of late years have been cast hither and yon in
a most erratic fashion, striking where they were least expected, as those
of you who keep in touch with the outer world must be fully aware. Now,
actuated by their usual broad and liberal motives, the men of Hades wish
to meet the views of you ladies to just that extent that your views are
based upon a wise selection, in turn based upon experience, and they have
come to me and in so many words have said, ‘Mr. Kidd, we wish the women
of Hades to see the world. We want them to be satisfied. We do not like
this constantly increasing spirit of unrest. We, who have seen all the
life that we care to see, do not ourselves feel equal to the task of
showing them about. We will pay you liberally if you will take our
House-boat, which they have always been anxious to enter, and personally
conduct our beloved ones to Paris, London, and elsewhere. Let them see
as much of life as they can stand. Accord them every privilege. Spare
no expense; only bring them back again to us safe and sound.’ These were
their words, ladies. I asked them why they didn’t come along themselves,
saying that even if they were tired of it all, they should make some
personal sacrifice to your comfort; and they answered, reasonably and
well, that they would be only too glad to do so, but that they feared
they might unconsciously seem to exert a repressing influence upon you.
‘We want them to feel absolutely free, Captain Kidd,’ said they, ‘and if
we are along they may not feel so.’ The answer was convincing, ladies,
and I accepted the commission.”
“But we knew nothing of all this,” interposed Elizabeth. “The subject
was not broached to us by our husbands, brothers, _fiancés_, or fathers.
My brother, Sir Walter Raleigh—”
Cleopatra chuckled. “Brother! Brother’s good,” she said.
“Well, that’s what he is,” retorted Elizabeth, quickly. “I promised to
be a sister to him, and I’m going to keep my word. That’s the kind of a
queen I am. I was about to remark,” Elizabeth added, turning to the
captain, “that my brother, Sir Walter Raleigh, never even hinted at any
such plan, and usually he asked my advice in matters of so great
importance.”
“That is easily accounted for, madame,” retorted Kidd. “Sir Walter
intended this as a little surprise for you, that is all. The
arrangements were all placed in his hands, and it was he who bound us all
to secrecy. None of the ladies were to be informed of it.”
“It does not sound altogether plausible,” interposed Portia. “If you
ladies do not object, I should like to cross-examine this—ah—gentleman.”
Kidd paled visibly. He was not prepared for any such trial; however, he
put as good a face on the matter as he could, and announced his
willingness to answer any questions that he might be asked.
[Picture: Captain Kidd consents to be cross-examined by Portia]
“Shall we put him under oath?” asked Cleopatra.
“As you please, ladies,” said the pirate. “A pirate’s word is as good as
his bond; but I’ll take an oath if you choose—a half-dozen of ’em, if
need be.”
“I fancy we can get along without that,” said Portia. “Now, Captain
Kidd, who first proposed this plan?”
“Socrates,” said Kidd, unblushingly with a sly glance at Xanthippe.
“What?” cried Xanthippe. “My husband propose anything that would
contribute to my pleasure or intellectual advancement? Bah! Your story
is transparently false at the outset.”
“Nevertheless,” said Kidd, “the scheme was proposed by Socrates. He said
a trip of that kind for Xanthippe would be very restful and
health-giving.”
“For me?” cried Xanthippe, sceptically.
“No, madame, for him,” retorted Kidd.
“Ah—ho-ho! That’s the way of it, eh?” said Xanthippe, flushing to the
roots of her hair. “Very likely. You—ah—you will excuse my doubting
your word, Captain Kidd, a moment since. I withdraw my remark, and in
order to make fullest reparation, I beg to assure these ladies that I am
now perfectly convinced that you are telling the truth. That last
observation is just like my husband, and when I get back home again, if I
ever do, well—ha, ha!—we’ll have a merry time, that’s all.”
“And what was—ah—Bassanio’s connection with this affair?” added Portia,
hesitatingly.
“He was not informed of it,” said Kidd, archly. “I am not acquainted
with Bassanio, my lady, but I overheard Sir Walter enjoining upon the
others the absolute necessity of keeping the whole affair from Bassanio,
because he was afraid he would not consent to it. ‘Bassanio has a most
beautiful wife, gentlemen,’ said Sir Walter, ‘and he wouldn’t think of
parting with her under any circumstances; therefore let us keep our
intentions a secret from him.’ I did not hear whom the gentleman
married, madame; but the others, Prince Hamlet, the Duke of Buckingham,
and Louis the Fourteenth, all agreed that Mrs. Bassanio was too beautiful
a person to be separated from, and that it was better, therefore, to keep
Bassanio in the dark as to their little enterprise until it was too late
for him to interfere.”
A pink glow of pleasure suffused the lovely countenance of the
cross-examiner, and it did not require a very sharp eye to see that the
wily Kidd had completely won her over to his side. On the other hand,
Elizabeth’s brow became as corrugated as her ruff, and the spirit of the
pirate shivered to the core as he turned and gazed upon that glowering
face.
“Sir Walter agreed to that, did he?” snapped Elizabeth. “And yet he was
willing to part with—ah—his sister.”
“Well, your Majesty,” began Kidd, hesitatingly, “you see it was this way:
Sir Walter—er—did say that, but—ah—he—ah—but he added that he of course
merely judged—er—this man Bassanio’s feelings by his own in parting from
his sister—”
“Did he say sister?” cried Elizabeth.
“Well—no—not in those words,” shuffled Kidd, perceiving quickly wherein
his error lay, “but—ah—I jumped at the conclusion, seeing his intense
enthusiasm for the lady’s beauty and—er—intellectual qualities, that he
referred to you, and it is from yourself that I have gained my knowledge
as to the fraternal, not to say sororal, relationship that exists between
you.”
“That man’s a diplomat from Diplomaville!” muttered Sir Henry Morgan,
who, with Abeuchapeta and Conrad, was listening at the port without.
“He is that,” said Abeuchapeta, “but he can’t last much longer. He’s
perspiring like a pitcher of ice-water on a hot day, and a spirit of his
size and volatile nature can’t stand much of that without evaporating.
If you will observe him closely you will see that his left arm already
has vanished into thin air.”
“By Jove!” whispered Conrad, “that’s a fact! If they don’t let up on him
he’ll vanish. He’s getting excessively tenuous about the top of his
head.”
All of which was only too true. Subjected to a scrutiny which he had
little expected, the deceitful ambassador of the thieving band was
rapidly dissipating, and, as those without had so fearsomely noted, was
in imminent danger of complete sublimation, which, in the case of one
possessed of so little elementary purity, meant nothing short of
annihilation. Fortunately for Kidd, however, his wonderful tact had
stemmed the tide of suspicion. Elizabeth was satisfied with his
explanation, and in the minds of at least three of the most influential
ladies on board, Portia, Xanthippe, and Elizabeth, he had become a
creature worthy of credence, which meant that he had nothing more to
fear.
“I am prepared, your Majesty,” said Elizabeth, addressing Cleopatra, “to
accept from this time on the gentleman’s word. The little that he has
already told us is hall-marked with truth. I should like to ask,
however, one more question, and that is how our gentleman friends
expected to embark us upon this voyage without letting us into the
secret?”
“Oh, as for that,” replied Kidd, with a deep-drawn sigh of relief, for he
too had noticed the gradual evaporation of his arm and the incipient
etherization of his cranium—“as for that, it was simple enough. There
was to have been a day set apart for ladies’ day at the club, and when
you were all on board we were quietly to weigh anchor and start. The
fact that you had anticipated the day, of your own volition, was
telephoned by my scouts to me at my headquarters, and that news was by me
transmitted by messenger to Sir Walter at Charon’s Glen Island, where the
long-talked-of fight between Samson and Goliath was taking place.
Raleigh immediately replied, ‘_Good_! _Start at once_. _Paris first_.
_Unlimited credit_. _Love to Elizabeth_.’ Wherefore, ladies,” he added,
rising from his chair and walking to the door—“wherefore you are here and
in my care. Make yourselves comfortable, and with the aid of the fashion
papers which you have already received prepare yourselves for the joys
that await you. With the aid of Madame Récamier and Baedeker’s _Paris_,
which you will find in the library, it will be your own fault if when you
arrive there you resemble a great many less fortunate women who don’t
know what they want.”
With these words Kidd disappeared through the door, and fainted in the
arms of Sir Henry Morgan. The strain upon him had been too great.
“A charming fellow,” said Portia, as the pirate disappeared.
“Most attractive,” said Elizabeth.
“Handsome, too, don’t you think?” asked Helen of Troy.
“And truthful beyond peradventure,” observed Xanthippe, as she reflected
upon the words the captain had attributed to Socrates. “I didn’t believe
him at first, but when he told me what my sweet-tempered philosopher had
said, I was convinced.”
“He’s a sweet child,” interposed Mrs. Noah, fondly. “One of my favorite
grandchildren.”
“Which makes it embarrassing for me to say,” cried Cassandra, starting up
angrily, “that he is a base caitiff!”
Had a bomb been dropped in the middle of the room, it could not have
created a greater sensation than the words of Cassandra.
“What?” cried several voices at once. “A caitiff?”
“A caitiff with a capital K,” retorted Cassandra. “I know that, because
while he was telling his story I was listening to it with one ear and
looking forward into the middle of next week with the other—I mean the
other eye—and I saw—”
“Yes, you saw?” cried Cleopatra.
“I saw that he was deceiving us. Mark my words, ladies, he is a base
caitiff,” replied Cassandra—“a base caitiff.”
“What did you see?” cried Elizabeth, excitedly.
“This,” said Cassandra, and she began a narration of future events which
I must defer to the next chapter. Meanwhile his associates were
endeavoring to restore the evaporated portions of the prostrated Kidd’s
spirit anatomy by the use of a steam-atomizer, but with indifferent
success. Kidd’s training had not fitted him for an intellectual combat
with superior women, and he suffered accordingly.
[Picture: Kidd’s companions endeavouring to restore evaporating portions
of his anatomy with a steam-atomizer]
X
A WARNING ACCEPTED
“IT is with no desire to interrupt my friend Cassandra unnecessarily,”
said Mrs. Noah, as the prophetess was about to narrate her story, “that I
rise to beg her to remember that, as an ancestress of Captain Kidd, I
hope she will spare a grandmother’s feelings, if anything in the story
she is about to tell is improper to be placed before the young. I have
been so shocked by the stories of perfidy and baseness generally that
have been published of late years, that I would interpose a protest while
there is yet time if there is a line in Cassandra’s story which ought to
be withheld from the public; a protest based upon my affection for
posterity, and in the interests of morality everywhere.”
“You may rest easy upon that score, my dear Mrs. Noah,” said the
prophetess. “What I have to say would commend itself, I am sure, even to
the ears of a British matron; and while it is as complete a demonstration
of man’s perfidy as ever was, it is none the less as harmless a little
tale as the Dottie Dimple books or any other more recent study of New
England character.”
“Thank you for the load your words have lifted from my mind,” said Mrs.
Noah, settling back in her chair, a satisfied expression upon her gentle
countenance. “I hope you will understand why I spoke, and withal why
modern literature generally has been so distressful to me. When you
reflect that the world is satisfied that most of man’s criminal instincts
are the result of heredity, and that Mr. Noah and I are unable to shift
the responsibility for posterity to other shoulders than our own, you
will understand my position. We were about the most domestic old couple
that ever lived, and when we see the long and varied assortment of crimes
that are cropping out everywhere in our descendants it is painful to us
to realize what a pair of unconsciously wicked old fogies we must have
been.”
“We all understand that,” said Cleopatra, kindly; “and we are all
prepared to acquit you of any responsibility for the advanced condition
of wickedness to-day. Man has progressed since your time, my dear
grandma, and the modern improvements in the science of crime are no more
attributable to you than the invention of the telephone or the oyster
cocktail is attributable to your husband.”
“Thank you kindly,” murmured the old lady, and she resumed her knitting
upon a phantom tam-o’-shanter, which she was making as a Christmas
surprise for her husband.
“When Captain Kidd began his story,” said Cassandra, “he made one very
bad mistake, and yet one which was prompted by that courtesy which all
men instinctively adopt when addressing women. When he entered the room
he removed his hat, and therein lay his fatal error, if he wished to
convince me of the truth of his story, for with his hat removed I could
see the workings of his mind. While you ladies were watching his lips or
his eyes, some of you taking in the gorgeous details of his dress, all of
you hanging upon his every word, I kept my eye fixed firmly upon his
imagination, and I saw, what you did not, _that he was drawing wholly
upon that_!”
“How extraordinary!” cried Elizabeth.
“Yes—and fortunate,” said Cassandra. “Had I not done so, a week hence we
should, every one of us, have been lost in the surging wickedness of the
city of Paris.”
“But, Cassandra,” said Trilby, who was anxious to return once more to the
beautiful city by the Seine, “he told us we were going to Paris.”
[Picture: He told us we were going to Paris]