CHAPTER VII

We were sailing due west, so that the full moon partly revealed the

side face of the figure approaching us, and I venture to assert

that the old moon, satellite of lovers, never shone upon anything

more graceful than the vision we now beheld. Man as I was, I knew

intuitively that she was dressed with a perfection far beyond my

powers of description. The partly revealed face wore an expression

of childlike simplicity and innocence, with all of a mature woman’s

exquisite beauty. No frowns now marred that smooth brow; the daintily

chiseled lips were animated by a smile of supreme loveliness.

“What a perfectly enchanting night!” she cried, as she came to a

standstill before us. “But don’t you think it is a trifle chilly?”--and

a slight shiver vibrated her frame. “But I suppose you have been

energetically walking, and therefore have not noticed the change of

temperature. Oh, Hilda, darling, would you mind running down to my room

and bringing up that light fleecy wrap, which I can thrown over my

shoulders?”

“I will bring it at once,” replied Miss Stretton, hastening toward the

companion-way. Just as she reached the head of the stair a ripple of

tinkling laughter added music to the night.

“Dear me, how stupid I am!” cried Miss Hemster, “Why, Hilda, I have it

here on my arm all the time! Don’t bother, darling!”

Miss Stretton paused for a moment, then said, “Good-night!” and

disappeared down the stairway.

Man is a stupid animal. I did not know at the moment, nor did I learn

until long after,--and even then it was a lady who told me,--that this

was a sweet dismissal, as effective as it was unperceived by myself.

Miss Hemster busied herself with the fleecy wrap, whose folds proved

so unmanageable that I ventured to offer my aid and finally adjusted

the fabric upon her shapely shoulders. We began walking up and down the

deck, she regulating her step to mine, and, in the friendly manner of

yesterday afternoon, placing her hand within my arm.

However, she did not hop and skip along the deck as she had done on

the streets of Nagasaki, although I should have thought the smooth

white boards offered an almost irresistible temptation to one who had

shown herself to be bubbling over with the joy of youth and life.

Notwithstanding the taking of my arm, she held herself with great

dignity, her head erect and almost thrown back, so I expected to be

treated to a new phase of her most interesting character. I was finding

it somewhat bewildering, and hardly knew how to begin the conversation;

but whether it was the springing step, or the smoothness of the deck,

or both combined, it struck me all at once that she must be a superb

dancer, and I was about to make inquiry as to this when she withdrew

her hand rather quickly after we had taken two or three turns up and

down the deck in silence, and said:

“You are not taking advantage of the opportunity I have been kind

enough to present to you.”

“What opportunity?” I asked in amazement.

“The opportunity to apologize to me.”

“To apologize?” cried I, still more at a loss to understand her

meaning. “Pray, for what should I apologize?”

She said with great decision and some impatience:

“How terribly dense you Englishmen are!”

“Yes, I admit it. We are celebrated as a nation for obtuseness. But

won’t you take pity on this particular Englishman, and enlighten him

regarding his offence. What should I apologize for?”

“Why, you told my father you were not a friend of the Mikado!”

“Certainly I told him so. I am not a friend of the Mikado; therefore

why should I claim to be?”

“Oh!” she cried, with a fine gesture of disdain, “you are trying to do

the George Washington act!”

“The George Washington act!” I repeated.

“Certainly. Of course you don’t see that. He could not tell a lie, you

know.”

“Ah, I understand you. No, I am doing the Mark Twain act. I can tell a

lie, but I won’t.”

“Not even for me?” she asked, looking up at me with that winning smile

of hers.

“Ah, when you put it that way I fear I shall be unable to emulate the

truthfulness of either George or Mark.”

“Now that isn’t so bad,” she said, taking my arm again, which gave me

the hope that I had been at least partially restored to favour.

“You certainly intimated to me yesterday that you were a friend of the

Mikado.”

“Then I am to blame; for with equal certainty I had no right to do so.”

“You said you had seen him several times and had spoken with him.”

“Yes, but that does not constitute a claim upon His Majesty’s

consideration.”

“Why, you have only seen me two or three times, and I am sure you know

I’m a friend of yours.”

“Madam, I am delighted to hear you say so. If the Mikado had made a

similar statement, I should claim him as a friend before all the world.”

“Then there was another thing you said, and I suppose you’ll go back on

that, too. You said you were a partisan of mine, or, since you are such

a stickler for accuracy, an adherent--I think that was the word--yes,

you were my adherent, or retainer, or something of the sort, such as

we read of in old-fashioned novels, and when you said so, poor little

trustful girl that I am, I believed you.”

“Indeed, Miss Hemster, you had every right to do so. Should occasion

arise, you will find me your staunch defender.”

“Oh, that’s all very pretty; but when it comes to the test, then you

fail. You heard what my father said. You must have known I meant you

to claim friendship with the Mikado. Poor father’s as transparent as

glass, and he surely made it as plain as this funnel that I wished you

to claim friendship with the head of the Japanese nation. So, after all

your beautiful promises, the moment you get a chance to back me up, you

do so by going back on me.”

“My dear Miss Hemster, why did you not give me a hint of your wishes?

If, when we were in Nagasaki, you had but said that you wished me to

proclaim myself the Emperor’s brother, I should have perjured myself on

your behalf like a gentleman.”

“It happened that I was not on deck when you came aboard, and so did

not see you. But I do think, if you hadn’t forgotten me entirely, you

would have learned at once from my father’s talk what I wished you to

say.”

“Yes, I see it all now, when it is too late; but as you have remarked,

and as I have admitted, I am extremely dense, and unless a thing is as

plain as the funnel--to use your own simile--I am very apt to overlook

it. Sometimes I don’t see it even then. For instance, when you are

walking by my side, I am just as likely to run into the funnel as to

walk past it.”

She laughed most good naturedly at this observation, and replied:

“Oh, you do say things very charmingly, and I will forgive you, even if

you refuse to apologize.”

“But I don’t refuse to apologize. I _do_ apologize--most abjectly--for

my stupidity.”

“Oh, well, that’s all right. Perhaps, when everything’s said and done,

it was my own fault in not giving you warning. Next time I want you to

stand by me, I’ll have it all typewritten nice and plain, and will hand

the paper to you twenty-four hours ahead.”

“That would be very kind of you, Miss Hemster; and, besides, you would

then possess documentary evidence of the stupidity of an Englishman.”

“Oh, we don’t need to have documentary evidence for that,” she replied

brightly; “but I tell you I was mad clear through when I knew what you

had said to my father. I raised storm enough to sink the yacht.”

“Did you?”

“Didn’t I? Why, you _knew_ I did.”

“I hadn’t the slightest suspicion of it.”

“Oh, well, you are denser than I thought. And I have been worrying

myself all the afternoon for fear you were offended by the way I told

you to take your seat at the table.”

“Offended? I shouldn’t have had the presumption to think of such a

thing. Indeed, it was very kind of you to indicate my place. Such

instructions are usually given by the steward.”

She bestowed a sly, sidelong glance upon me, and there was a somewhat

uncertain smile at the corners of her pretty lips.

“Is that a little dig at me?” she asked.

“Nothing of the sort. It was a mere statement of fact.”

“Sometimes I think,” she said meditatively, more to herself than to me,

“that you are not such a fool as you look.”

I was compelled to laugh at this, and replied with as much urbanity as

I could call to my command:

“I am overjoyed to hear that statement. It seems to prove that I am

making progress. Such evidence always encourages a man.”

“Oh, well,” she said, with a shrug of impatience, “don’t let’s talk any

more about it. I didn’t want to go to Corea, and I _did_ want to return

to Yokohama; so here we are going to Corea. Don’t you think I am a very

good-natured girl to let bygones be bygones so easily?”

“You certainly are.”

“Then that’s settled. Tell me what Miss Stretton was talking to you

about.”

I was somewhat taken aback by this extraordinary request, but replied

easily:

“Oh, we had not been walking the deck very long, and we discussed

nothing of extreme importance so far as I can remember.”

“What did she say about me?”

“I assure you, Miss Hemster, your name was not mentioned between us.”

“Really? Then what on earth _did_ you talk about?”

“When I have the good fortune to be in your presence, Miss Hemster, I

confess it seems impossible that I should talk about anyone else than

yourself, nevertheless I should not presume to discuss one lady with

another.”

The girl jerked away her arm again, and turned to me with a flash in

her eyes that was somewhat disconcerting.

“Look here, Mr. Tremorne,” she cried, “if you’ve got anything to say

against me, I want you to say it right out like a man, and not to hint

at it like a spiteful woman.”

“What have I said now?” I inquired very humbly.

“You know quite well what you have said. But if you imagine I am as

stupid as you admit yourself to be, you’ll get left!”

“My dear madam,” I ventured; “one of the advantages of having a thick

skin is that a person does not take offence where no offence is meant.”

“There you go again! You know very well that you were driving at me

when you said that you refused to discuss one lady with another;

because, if you meant anything at all, you meant that I was trying to

do what you couldn’t bring yourself to do; and when you talk of ‘lady’

and ‘lady’ you are in effect putting Miss Stretton on an equality with

me.”

“I should never think of doing so,” I replied, with a bow to the angry

person beside me.

“Is that another?” she demanded. “Oh, you know very well what I mean.

Do you consider Miss Stretton a lady?”

“My acquaintance with her is of the shortest, yet I should certainly

call her a lady.”

“Then what do you call me?”

“A lady also.”

“Well, if that isn’t putting us on an equality, what is?”

“I said, madam, that _I_ did not put you on an equality. That was done

by a celebrated document which you often fling in our faces. I refer

to the Declaration of Independence, which, if I remember rightly,

begins--‘All men are created equal,’ and I suppose, as the humourist

puts it, that the men embrace the women.”

“Miss Stretton is my paid servant,” insisted Miss Hemster, evading the

point; “and, as was said in the opera of ‘Pinafore,’ when one person

has to obey the orders of another, equality is out of the question.”

“I didn’t think that made any difference in the United States.”

“But this isn’t the United States.”

“I beg your pardon, but this is the United States. We are on the high

seas, aboard a steamer that is registered in New York, and so this deck

is just as much a part of your country as is New York itself, and the

laws of the United States would justify the captain in putting me in

irons if he thought my conduct deserved such treatment.”

“Then you refuse to tell me what you and Miss Stretton were discussing!”

“My dear madam, if Miss Stretton asked me what you and I were

discussing, I should certainly refuse to inform her. Should I not be

justified in doing so? I leave it to yourself. Would you be pleased if

I repeated our conversation to Miss Stretton?”

“Oh, I don’t know that I should mind,” replied Miss Hemster mildly, the

storm subsiding as quickly as it had risen; “I have no doubt she told

you that her father was a clergyman, and that my father had borrowed

five hundred dollars from her father to get his start in life. And she

doubtless hinted that her father was the founder of our fortune.”

“I assure you, Miss Hemster, that she said nothing at all about five

hundred dollars or any other sum. She spoke mostly of your father, and

she spoke very highly of him.”

“She certainly had every right to do so. My father gave her what

education she has and supported her ever since.”

I made no comment upon this statement, and my companion veered round a

bit and said brightly:

“Oh, I see you don’t like me to talk like that, and perhaps I

shouldn’t, but Hilda Stretton is as sly as they make them, and I’ve

no doubt she came on deck just to size you up, while you would never

suspect it.”

“I venture to think you do the young lady an injustice, Miss Hemster. I

am sure she would have preferred to walk the deck alone, although she

was too polite to say so. I rather fear I forced my company upon her.”

“Oh, yes, oh, yes; I understand all about that. Such is just the

impression Hilda Stretton would like to make upon a man. Now I am

honest. I came on deck purposely to have a talk with you.”

“Then I am very much flattered.”

“Well, you ought to be, and I may say this for you, that you don’t talk

to me in the least as other men do. Nobody has ever dared to contradict

me.”

“Have I done so? You shock me, for I certainly did not intend to

contradict you.”

“Why, you have done nothing else, and I don’t think it’s gentlemanly

at all. But we’ll let that go. Now I wish to talk about yourself.”

“Well, I think we might choose a more entertaining topic.”

“We’ll talk about Lord Tremorne then.”

“Hang Lord Tremorne!”

“Ah, Miss Stretton and you were discussing him then?”

“Indeed we were not, but I am rather tired of the gentleman. Yet he is

a very good fellow, and I ought not to say ‘Hang him!’ even if I am on

the high seas. I am sure I wish him nothing but good.”

“If he were to die, would you become Lord Tremorne?”

“Bless me, no!”

“Who stands between you?”

“His three sons, who are very healthy specimens of humanity, I am glad

to say.”

“Isn’t there ever any possibility of your becoming Lord Tremorne, then?”

“Oh, there’s a possibility of anything, but no probability. I may say

quite truthfully that no one would be so sorry as I if the probability

occurred.”

“Don’t you want to have a title?”

“I wouldn’t give twopence for it.”

“Really? I thought every one in England wanted a title?”

“Dear me, no! There are men in England, plain Mr. This or That, who

wouldn’t change their appellation for the highest title that could be

offered them.”

“Why?”

“Oh, they belong to fine old families and look upon the newer

aristocracy as upstarts.”

“It seems funny to talk of old families, for all families are the same

age. We all spring from Adam, I suppose.”

“Doubtless, but I believe the College of Arms does not admit such a

contention.”

“Don’t you think family pride a very idiotic thing?”

“Oh, I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I haven’t thought very much

about it, though I don’t see why we should parade the pedigree of a

horse and be ashamed of the pedigree of a man.”

“It isn’t the same thing. A horse may have notable ancestors, whereas I

am told that most of your aristocracy sprang from thieves and outlaws.”

“As far as that goes, some of them are still in the pirate profession,

those who belong to the public companies, for example,--bogus

companies, I mean. I suppose, after all said and done, that the

pedigree of even the oldest family in Europe is as nothing to that of

the Eastern Kings, for this King of Corea that we are going to see

traces his ancestry about as far back as did Pooh-Bah.”

“Do you think there will be any trouble in getting to see his Corean

Majesty?” Miss Hemster asked with a shade of anxiety in her tone.

“I am not at all sure, for the etiquette of the Corean Court is

very rigid. A horseman must dismount when he is passing the Palace,

although it is but a ramshackle conglomeration of shabbiness. Every one

admitted to the Presence must prostrate himself before the King.”

“Well, I shan’t do it,” said the girl confidently.

“I hope to obtain a relaxation of the rule in the case of a Princess

like yourself, Miss Hemster. If his Majesty should graciously touch

your hand, the law of Corea demands that ever afterward you must wear a

badge as token of the distinction conferred upon you.”

“Oh, I shall just wear another ring with the arms of Corea on it,--that

is, if Corea has arms,”--said Miss Hemster with vivacity. “I am sure

it is very good of you to take all this trouble for us. And now I must

bid you good-night and thank you for the very pleasant walk we have had

together.”

With that my lady withdrew her bright presence and disappeared down the

companion-way.

A Chicago Princess · 第 7 / 25 章