I had flung my much-maligned blazer into a corner, and now I slipped
on an ordinary tweed coat. I found the deck empty with the exception
of Miss Stretton, who was walking up and down in the moonlight, as
she had done the night before, but this time she came forward with a
sweet smile on her lips, extending her hand to me as if we had been old
friends long parted. There was something very grateful to me in this
welcome, as I was beginning to look upon myself as a pariah unfit for
human companionship. Indeed, I had been bitterly meditating on striking
into the Corean wilderness and living hereafter as one of the natives,
about the lowest ambition that ever actuated the mind of man.
“Have you sentenced yourself to solitary imprisonment, Mr. Tremorne?”
“Yes. Don’t you think I deserve it?”
“Frankly, I don’t; but as you did not appear at either luncheon or
dinner, and as the Japanese boy who brought my coffee up here told
me you were keeping to your room, I thought it as well to send for
you, and I hope you are not offended at having your meditation broken
in upon. Prisoners, you know, are allowed to walk for a certain time
each day in the courtyard. I do wish I had a ball and chain for your
ankles, but we are on board ship, and cannot expect all the luxuries of
civilization.”
Her raillery cheered me more than I can say.
“Miss Stretton, it is more than good of you to receive an outcast in
this generous manner.”
“An outcast? Please don’t talk rubbish, Mr. Tremorne! Somehow I had
taken you for a sensible person, and now all my ideas about you are
shattered.”
“I don’t wonder at it,” I said despondently.
“Yes, I know you are in the Slough of Despond, and I am trying to pull
you out of it. When I remember that men have ruled great empires,
carried on important wars, subdued the wilderness, conquered the ocean,
girdled the earth with iron, I declare I wonder where their brains
depart to when they are confronted with silly, whimpering, designing
women.”
“But still, Miss Stretton, to come from the general to the particular,
a man has no right to ill-treat a woman.”
“I quite agree with you; but, as you say, to come to this particular
incident which is in both our minds, do you actually believe that there
was ill-treatment? Don’t you know in your own soul that if the girl had
received treatment like that long ago she would not now be a curse to
herself and to all who are condemned to live within her radius?”
“Yet I cannot conceal from myself that it was none of my business. Her
father was present, and her correction was his affair.”
“Her correction was any one’s affair that had the courage to undertake
it. What had you seen? You had seen her strike me, and thrust me from
her as if I were a leper. Then you saw this girl with the temper of
the--the temper of the--oh, help me----”
“Temper of the devil,” I responded promptly.
“Thank you! You saw her take up a deadly weapon, and if she has not
murdered one of the three of us, we have to thank, not her, but the
mercy of God. You did exactly the right thing, and the only thing, and
actually she would have admired you for it had it not been that you
came down to her door and prostrated yourself for her to trample over
you.”
“Good heavens, Miss Stretton! were you inside that room?”
“It doesn’t matter whether I was or not. I know that she twisted you
around her little finger, and took her revenge in the only way that was
possible for her.”
“Ah, but you don’t know the depth of my degradation. She showed me her
wrists, marked by the fingers of a savage, and that savage was myself.”
“Pooh! pooh! pooh!” cried Miss Stretton, laughing. “Do you think those
marks indicate pain? Not a bit of it. Your grasp of her wrists did not
injure her in the least, and, short of putting handcuffs on them, was
the only method at your disposal to prevent her perhaps killing her
father, a man worth a million such as she, and yet neither he nor you
have the sense to see it. I can inform you that Miss Gertrude’s arm
is sore to-night, but not where you clasped it. She hurt herself more
than she injured me when she struck me. Look at this,”--and she drew
back her sleeve, disclosing a wrist as pretty as that of Miss Hemster,
notwithstanding the fact that one part was both bruised and swollen.
“That is where I caught her blow, and can assure you it was given with
great force and directness. So, Mr. Tremorne, if you have any sympathy
to expend, please let me have the benefit of it, and I will bestow my
sympathy upon you in return.”
“Indeed, Miss Stretton, I am very sorry to see that you are hurt. I
hoped you had warded off the blow slantingly, instead of getting it
square on the arm like that.”
“Oh, it is nothing,” said the girl carelessly, drawing down her sleeve
again, “it is merely an exhibit, as they say in the courts, to win
the sympathy of a man, and it doesn’t hurt now in the least, unless I
strike it against something. I ask you to believe that I would never
have said a word about the girl to you if you had not seen for yourself
what those near her have to put up with. You will understand, Mr.
Tremorne, I am but a poor benighted woman who has had no one to talk
to for months and months. I cannot unburden my soul to Mr. Hemster,
because I like him too well; and if I talk to the captain he will
merely laugh at me, and tell funny stories. There is no one but you; so
you see, unfortunate man, you are the victim of two women.”
“I like being the victim of one of them,” said I; “but am I to infer
from what you have said that, as you don’t speak to Mr. Hemster because
you like him, you speak to me because you dislike me?”
“What a far-fetched conclusion!” she laughed. “Certainly not. I like
you very much indeed, and even admired you until you used the word
‘abjectly’ down in that passage. That is a word I detest; no one should
employ it when referring to himself.”
“Then you _were_ in Miss Hemster’s room after all.”
“I have not said so, and I refuse to admit it. That is hereafter to be
a forbidden topic, and a redeemed prisoner in charge of his gaoler must
not disobey orders. If it were not for me, you would now be in your
room moping and meditating on your wickedness. I have wrestled with you
as if I were a Salvation lass, and so you should be grateful.”
“Never was a man wallowing in despondency more grateful for the helping
hand of a woman enabling him to emerge.”
“It is very generous of you to say that, when it was the helping hand
of a woman that pushed you into it.”
“No, it was my own action that sent me there. I doubt if a man ever
gets into the Slough of Despond through the efforts of any one else.
A lone man blunders blindly along, and the first thing he knows he is
head over ears in the mud,--and serve him right, too.”
“Why serve him right?”
“Because he has no business being a lone man. Two heads are better than
one; then, if one is making for the ditch, the helping hand of the
other restrains.”
“Since when did you arrive at so desperate a conclusion, Mr. Tremorne?”
“Since I met you.”
“Well, it is a blessing there was no one to restrain you to-day, or
otherwise somebody might have been shot. There is something to be said
for lack of restraint upon occasion.”
“Miss Stretton, if I had had a sensible woman to advise me, I am
certain I would never have lost my money.”
“Was it a large amount?”
“It was a fortune.”
“How one lives and learns! I have often heard that women squander
fortunes, but never yet that a woman helped to preserve one.”
“It is better for a man’s wife to squander a fortune than to allow a
stranger to do it.”
“Oh, I am not so sure. The end seems to be the same in both cases. I
suppose you have in your mind the woman who would have given you good
advice at the proper time.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Then why don’t you ask her now, or is it too late?”
“I don’t know that she would have anything to do with me; however,
it is very easy to find out. Miss Stretton, will you marry me? I
have nothing particular to offer you except myself, but I think I’ve
reached the lowest ebb of my fortunes, and any change must be toward
improvement.”
“Good gracious, is this actually a proposal?”
“If you will be so generous as to regard it as such.”
The young lady stopped in her promenade, and leaned back against the
rail, looking me squarely in the face. Then she laughed with greater
heartiness than I had yet heard her do.
“This is most interesting,” she said at last, “and really most amazing.
Why, you must have known me for nearly two hours! I assure you I did
not lend you a helping hand out of the Slough of Despond to imprison
you at once in the Castle Despair of a penniless marriage. Besides, I
always thought a proposal came after a long and somewhat sentimental
_camaraderie_, which goes under the name of courtship. However, this
explains what I have so often marvelled at in the English papers; a
phrase that struck me as strange and unusual: ‘A marriage has been
arranged and will take place between So-and-So and So-and-So.’ Such a
proposal as you have just made is surely an arrangement rather than a
love affair. Indeed, you have said nothing about love at all, and so
probably such a passion does not enter into the amalgamation. If you
were not so serious I should have thought you were laughing at me.”
“On the contrary, madam, I am very much in earnest, and it is you who
are laughing at me.”
“Don’t you think I’ve a very good right to do so? Why, we are hardly
even acquainted, and I have no idea what your Christian name is, as I
suppose you have no idea what mine is.”
“Oh, Hilda, I know your name perfectly!”
“I see you do, and make use of it as well, which certainly advances
us another step. But the other half of my proposition is true, and I
remain in ignorance of yours.”
“When unconsciously I went through the ceremony of christening, I
believe my godfathers and godmothers presented me with the name of
Rupert.”
“What a long time you take in the telling of it. Wasn’t there a Prince
Rupert once? It seems to me I’ve heard the phrase ‘the Rupert of
debate,’ and the Rupert of this, and the Rupert of that, so he seems to
be a very dashing fellow.”
“He was. He dashed into misfortune, as I have often done, but there all
likeness between us ends.”
“It seems to me the likeness remains, because the present Rupert is
dashing into the misfortune of a very heedless proposal. But do not
fear that I shall take advantage of your recklessness, which is the
more dangerous when you remember my situation. I sometimes think I
would almost marry the Prince of Darkness to get out of the position I
hold, for I am told he is a gentleman, who probably keeps his temper,
and I am coming to the belief that a good temper is a jewel beyond
price. However, I’m exaggerating again. I do not really need to stay
here unless I wish it, and I remain for the sake of Mr. Hemster, who,
as I told you last night, has always been very kind to me, and for whom
I have a great respect and liking. Besides, I am not nearly so helpless
as perhaps you may imagine. If I went home I could make a very good
living teaching music in the States. So you see I do not need to accept
the Prince of Darkness should he offer his hand.”
“You mean, _when_ he has offered his hand?”
She laughed at this, and went on merrily:
“No, ‘if;’ not ‘when.’ I shall always cherish the proposal of Prince
Rupert, and when the Prince of Darkness makes advances I shall probably
tell him that he is not the first Highness so to honour me. When the
sunlight comes to take the place of the moonlight, we shall laugh
together over this--I can’t call it sentimental episode, shall we term
it, business arrangement? Now, would you mind accepting a little advice
on the subject of matrimony?”
“I’ll accept your advice if you’ll accept me. Turn about is fair play,
you know. Let us finish one transaction before we begin another.”
“Transaction is a charming word, Mr. Tremorne, nearly as good as
arrangement; I am not sure but it is better. I thought the transaction
was finished. You are respectfully declined, with thanks, but, as I
assured you, I shall always cherish the memory of this evening, and,
now that the way is clear, may I tender this advice, which I have
been yearning for some hours to give you. You won’t reply. Well, on
the whole I think your attitude is very correct. You could hardly be
expected to jump joyously from one transaction to another, and I really
feel very much flattered that you have put on that dejected look and
attitude, which becomes you very much indeed and almost makes me think
that the precipitancy of my refusal equals the headlong impetuosity of
your avowal. A wiser woman would have asked time for consideration.”
“Pray take the time, Miss Stretton; it is not yet too late.”
“Yes, it is. What is done, is done, and now comes my advice. You said
two heads are better than one. That is true generally, but not always,
so I shall present you with an aphorism in place of it, which is that
two purses are better than one, if either contains anything. If one
purse is always empty, and the other is bursting full, the truth of
my adage cannot be questioned. I surmise that your purse and mine
are almost on an equality, but I can assure you that Miss Hemster’s
_portemonnaie_ is full to repletion.”
“That has nothing to do with me,” I answered curtly.
“Oh, but it may have, and much. I noticed when you came down to
luncheon yesterday that you are very deeply in love with Miss Hemster.”
“My dear Miss Hilda,--I claim the right to call you that,--when one
remembers that you never took your eyes from your plate at luncheon I
must say that you have most extraordinary powers of observation. You
thought I was high and mighty toward Mr. Hemster, which was not the
case, and now you assert that I was in love with Miss Hemster, which is
equally beside the fact.”
“Of course you are bound to say that, and I may add that although I
am offering you advice I am not asking confidences in exchange. I
assert that you fell in love with Miss Hemster during your charming
ramble through Nagasaki; falling in love with a haste which seems to
be characteristic of you, and which totally changes the ideas I had
previously held regarding an Englishman.”
“Yes, a number of your notions concerning the men of my country were
entirely erroneous, as I took the liberty of pointing out to you last
night.”
“So you did, but actions speak louder than words, and I form my
conclusions from your actions. Very well, propose to Miss Hemster; I
believe she would accept you, and I further believe that you would
prove the salvation of the girl. Her father would make no objection,
for I see he already likes you; but in any case he would offer no
opposition to anything that his daughter proposed. His life is devoted,
poor man, to ministering to her whims and caprices, so you are certain
of the parental blessing, and that would carry with it, as I have
pointed out, the full purse.”
“You spoke of the Prince of Darkness just now, Miss Stretton, so I
will appropriate your simile and say that if there were an unmarried
Princess of Darkness I would sooner try my luck with her than with Miss
Hemster.”
“Oh, nonsense! Miss Hemster is a good-hearted girl if only she’d been
rightly trained. You would tame her. I know no man so fitted to be the
modern Petruchio, and I am fond enough of the drama to say I would like
to see a modern rendering of ‘The Taming of the Shrew.”
“She’ll never be tamed by me, Miss Stretton.”
“She has been, Mr. Tremorne, only you spoiled your lesson by your
apology. You must not make a mistake like that again. If you had stood
your ground, preserving a distant and haughty demeanour, with a frown
on your noble brow, pretty Miss Gertrude would soon have come around to
you, wheedling, flattering, and most exquisitely charming, as she well
knows how to be. You could then have caught her on the rebound, as the
novels put it, just, in fact, as I have managed to catch you to-night.
You will be very thankful in the morning that I refused to retain my
advantage.”
“I shall never be thankful for that, Miss Hilda, and it is equally
certain that I shall never propose to Miss Hemster. If I were a
speculative adventurer I’d venture to wager on it.”
“Most men who see her, propose to her; therefore you must not imagine
that Gertrude has not been sought after. I should not be at all
certain of your success were it not that every man she has hitherto
met has flattered her, while you have merely left the marks of your
fingers on her wrists and have threatened to box her ears. This gives
you a tremendous advantage if you only know how to use it. I have
read somewhere that there is a law in Britain which allows a husband
to punish his wife with a stick no bigger than his little finger. I
therefore advise you to marry the girl, take something out of the full
purse and buy back the ancestral acres, then go into the forest and
select a switch as large as the law allows. After that, the new comedy
of ‘The Taming of the Shrew,’ with the married pair living happily ever
afterward. You should prove the most fortunate of men, in that you
will possess the prettiest, richest, and most docile wife in all your
island.”
“I am not a barrister, Miss Stretton, therefore can neither affirm nor
deny the truth you have stated regarding the law of the stick. If,
however, a belief in that enactment has led you to reject my proposal,
I beg to inform you that I have no ancestral acres containing a forest;
therefore I cannot possess myself of a twig of the requisite size
without trespassing on some one else’s timber. So you see you need have
no fear on that score.”
“I am not so sure,” replied Hilda, shaking her pretty head, “I imagine
there must be a Wife-Beaters’ Supply Company in London somewhere,
which furnishes the brutal Britisher at lowest rates with the correct
legal apparatus for matrimonial correction. I tremble to think of the
scenes that must have been enacted in the numerous strong castles of
Britain which have had new copper roofs put on with the money brought
over by American brides. Girls, obstreperous and untrained, but wealthy
beyond the dreams of avarice, have gone across, scorning the honest
straightforward American man, who in my opinion is the most sincere
gentleman of all the world. These rich but bad-tempered jades have
disappeared within the castle, and the portcullis has come down. Have
we ever heard a whimper from any one of them? Not a whisper even. If
they had married American men there would have been tremendous rows,
ending with divorce cases; but not so when they have disappeared into
the castle. You never hear of an American woman divorcing a lord, and
Lord knows some of those lords are the riff-raff of creation. History
gives us grim pictures of tragical scenes in those old strongholds, but
I shudder to think of the tragedies which must occur nowadays when once
the drawbridge is up, and the American girl, hitherto adored, learns
the law regarding flagellation. The punishment must be exceedingly
complete, for the lady emerges cowed and subdued as the Kate that
Shakespeare wrote about. And how well that great man understood
a wilful and tyrannical woman! Oh, you needn’t look shocked, Mr.
Tremorne. Haven’t you an adage on that benighted island which says ‘A
woman, a dog, and a walnut-tree; the more you beat them the better they
be?’”
“Great heavens, girl, what an imagination you have! You should
really write a novel. It would be an interesting contribution toward
international love affairs.”
“I may do so, some day, if music-teaching fails. I should like,
however, to have the confession of one of the victims of an
international matrimonial match.”
“Which victim? The English husband or the American wife?”
“The wife, of course. I think I shall wait until you and Miss Hemster
are married a year or two, and then perhaps she will look more kindly
on me than she does at present, and so may tell me enough to lend local
colour to my book.”
“I can give you a much better plan than that, Miss Stretton. Hearsay
evidence, you know, is never admitted in courts of law, and by the same
token it amounts to very little in books. I am given to understand
that, to be successful, an author must have lived through the events of
which he writes, so your best plan is to accept my offer; then we will
purchase a moated grange in England, and you can depict its horrors
from the depths of experience.”
“Where are we to get the money for the moated grange? I haven’t any,
and you’ve just acknowledged that you are penniless.”
“I forgot that. Still, moated granges are always going cheap. They are
damp as a general rule, and not much sought after. We could possibly
buy one on the instalment plan, or even rent it if it came to that.”
Miss Stretton laughed joyously at the idea, held out her hand, and bade
me a cordial good-night.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Tremorne for a most interesting evening, and
also for the proposal. I think it very kind of you, for I suppose you
suspect I haven’t had very many. I think we’ve each helped the other
out of the Slough of Despond. So good-night, good-night!”