THE PRESIDENT SURPRISED.
It was the intention of the Presidential party to spend one day and
night in Chihuahua, and to leave the following morning before eleven
o’clock for Saltillo, where they would spend a few days visiting her
large and famous educational institutions, of which the United States is
justly proud.
But instead of carrying out the plan for the tour, he sent a message,
saying his visit would be delayed, to the president of the most renowned
of the ten schools, which had made the beautiful city of Saltillo, away
up in the Sierra Madre mountains, five thousand feet above the sea
level, the envy of all pedagogues all over the East and North. The hub
of learning was no longer said to be in the old, puritanical town of
Boston, as was credited to it a hundred and fifty years ago.
A strange shifting of scenes had taken place, not only in the fall of
Boston from its educational pedestal, but in the shifting of the axis of
the earth, changing the positions of the poles, and creating in
different parts of the world a different climate from what had been in
years gone by, as well as different animal, vegetable life and mineral
deposits.
The great school, “For Hidden Thought,” of which Francisco de Urdiñola
was president, was the institution of greatest note in Saltillo, and the
only one of its kind in America. It was to the president of this
University that the President of the United States sent a message,
saying that the date of his arrival in Saltillo would be delayed.
President Mortingo had a short conversation with Governor Lehumada at
the close of the banquet the previous evening, in which the President
declared his intentions of becoming a “subject” the following day, to
see if he could fathom the mysteries of the evening.
He made an appointment also to meet the child, Catalina Martinet, at the
Governor’s home, at nine o’clock, after which meeting he would go to the
studio of the scientist, Guillermo Gonzales.
As the President sped through the beautiful streets of Chihuahua, from
the Mexican Annex, to the palatial home of Governor Lehumada, his
thoughts travelled with surprising rapidity from one occurrence to
another of the last evening.
He had never taken life seriously, and notwithstanding the fact that he
had thought last night that the “Memory Fluid” possessed an uncanny
element, he laughed to himself now, and declared the whole scene was an
uproarious comedietta, in which he was about to present himself before
the public as the buffoon. He chuckled at the thought of the prominence
from a new point of view it would bring him, by submitting himself as a
subject for the great scientists to further experiment upon. He had
always been ambitious to shine before the public. He was chosen
President of the United States, not because he was a great politician,
or a man who had distinguished himself in the service of his country;
quite the contrary. He came by chance, as it were, into the presidential
chair. He had great wealth and good nature combined, and he allowed
himself to be _used_ by his friends. It was a great plum he had secured
by being good-natured, and his face constantly glowed with evident
satisfaction.
The two great political parties had ceased to agree amongst themselves,
and on the eve of the great national election a black horse had been run
into the ring and won the race.
Each party was glad the other had not won the race, and each felt
assured that the _black horse_ would not prove a serious stumbling-block
to the many projects each party hoped to accomplish by the election of a
man from its own party.
Far beyond the most sanguine expectations of the people, he had proved a
benefactor. His good-nature, coupled with his desire to do no one a
wrong personally, and produce all the good possible to the nation, was a
balm to the hurt minds of the two defeated parties.
All of these things Mr. Mortingo knew very well, and reflected over them
now with much satisfaction. It was the pleasant things of life he was
seeking, and he had his full share. He accepted all favors shown him,
even those from persons whom he knew to be enemies, and whose object in
showing him courtesies was for the sole purpose of gaining some
political favor or social prestige. He smiled as he stepped from the
carriage, and thought of the sensation the step he was about to take
would make upon the people.
Governor Lehumada received him in his wonderful drawing-room, with the
respect due his position, and at once presented the child, Catalina
Martinet. She curtesied prettily and gave her tiny hand to the
President. He kissed her bright face and asked her to sit on the chair
placed by the one he was to occupy, and to excuse him one moment. Then
he drew his arm through the arm of the Governor, and as they walked a
few steps away, said: “Your Honor, does the child know I have come to
see her?”
“She does not, sir; at least she does not know by being told. I have,
however, a feeling that she divined you were coming, and that you would
talk to her upon the subject of a past existence,” replied the Governor.
“I am sorry she suspects the object of my visit. I am afraid the mere
fact of it will make me incredulous of her statements,” said the
President. “However,” he continued, “what led you into the belief you
have just stated?”
The Governor walked a few steps further away with his friend, and in a
lower tone said: “The child has taken a great fancy to me, and
notwithstanding the fact that I tried to persuade her not to call me
‘papa,’ she persists in so doing. She is a child a man in any position
in life would be proud to claim as his own, yet being a bachelor I feel
a certain timidity in being addressed as ‘papa.’ Now to answer your
question, what led me to suspect that she knew you would call this
morning and the object of your call as well? While I was taking my
breakfast she ran into the room, and after throwing her arms around my
neck and kissing me fondly, she exclaimed: ‘Dear papa, dear papa, the
great man will be here presently; I will run to the house I used to have
for a home, and get the philopena he gave me in the other life. I
promised to keep it always, and I want to show him I still have it. Then
he will remember.’
“‘Is the President coming to see _you_, Catalina?’ I asked.
“‘Dear papa, you _know_ he is; may I go for the philopena now?’
“‘No, child,’ I replied, ‘not now; but if our President comes and wishes
to see the philopena, you may go for it.’”
“Oh, thank you; thank you. Do let the sweet child go at once,” said the
President.
“Do you want me?” cried Catalina, starting from her seat toward them, as
they turned around to call her.
“We certainly do,” replied the Governor, as he caught the happy child in
his arms. “We certainly do, do we not, President?”
The President looked at the two for a moment in mute astonishment, then
replied: “We do want you, dear, but how strange!”
“I wear the philopena, President; you remember it, don’t you?”
The Governor looked at her questioningly, to which she replied:
“I slipped away, papa, just for a moment, to get it. I knew the
President would want to see it;” with that she handed him a curious coin
suspended from a small silver chain.
“What is it?” asked both men, as they examined it curiously.
Catalina looked serious as she replied: “He does not remember. It is
speiss, a five-cent piece, you gave me for winning the second game of
checkers I played after you taught me how. You said you would never see
it again, for I would give it to the priest some day when I went to
confess; playing checkers for a philopena.”
“This is an old coin,” said the President; “it is dated 1898.”
“And the day we played the game is cut on it also,” said Catalina.
“A date is on it—December the seventh. But who put it there?” asked the
President.
“Why, you cut the letters on it, your Honor,” Catalina replied, “with a
little pearl-handled knife. I have it also. You used many big words to
me then, but I remember them all very well. Do you remember what you
said the priest might do with the knife, if I were not a good girl?”
“You forget, child, the President does not remember; but tell us about
the knife,” said the Governor.
“Do; I am all curiosity,” said the President.
“It is a big word you used,” said Catalina, “and if you do not remember,
I will have to tell you what it means. You said if I were not a good
girl, the priest would perform phlebotomy upon me.”
“We do not know—explain, child,” said Governor Lehumada.
“He meant, the priest would open a blood-vessel, and all of my blood
would run out,” laughed the child.
“But were you so bad that I had to be constantly reminding you of the
fact?” asked President Mortingo.
“I was not bad then,” said the child; “it was only after I knew of the
disgrace of my birth that I got to be disagreeable and bad. It is now
time for you to take ‘Memory Fluid’ from Señor Guillermo Gonzales. I
will tell you about other things when you remember. I am now going to
meet Helen Hinckley in the Alameda.” She shook hands with the President;
kissed the Governor fondly, and with the air of a queen swept from the
room.
“How strange,” said the President; “a child and a queen in one;” while
Governor Lehumada, with a smile on his face, murmured: “Helen Hinckley,
my long-lost love, found at last, at last. Would that I, too, could
hasten to her.”
The President heard the Governor’s confession of love, but gave no sign
that his secret had been betrayed. “With your permission, Governor, I
will go at once to the studio of Señor Guillermo Gonzales. I wish to
become a subject immediately, the child has enthused me very much; in
fact, I never believed it possible for any one to arouse my curiosity to
such an extent.”
At that moment Señor Guillermo Gonzales was shown into the drawing-room,
and as he greeted the President, said: “To keep the matter of you
becoming a subject very quiet, I came at a suggestion just received from
the Governor, to administer the ‘Fluid’ here.”
“How considerate,” said President Mortingo. “I really felt a little
delicacy in going to your laboratory. Let the experiments begin now, I
pray you. I really am getting nervous over it. I hope I will not be
affected, on my return to a conscious condition, as was poor Mrs. Grange
last night.”
“Have no fears, President; it is not likely you committed any evil deeds
in a life gone by for which you will now suffer remorse. Your presence
in this life is no doubt due to the fact that you desired
knowledge—desired to reach the highest plane, without any waste of
years.”
“That is most likely,” said the Governor. “Friend Gonzales is quite
right. To avoid any further delay, please follow me into my private
study. As soon as the ‘Fluid’ is administered, I will leave you with
Señors Gonzales and Murillo, until the period we desire is reached. Then
I will return. A matter of great importance has come up recently, within
the last hours, which I wish to attend to personally.”
“You are quite excusable, Governor, quite excusable,” replied the
good-natured President. He thought he knew what the “important business”
was that had recently come up, to which the Governor wished to give his
personal attention.
His vein of humor produced a hearty laugh from the three men besides
himself in the room when he received the small glass containing “Memory
Fluid” in his hand, and holding it aloft, said: “I drink, oh, thou Great
Revealer, to the health of all my present enemies and friends, to all
friends and enemies I had in those lives I am supposed to have lived
ages and ages ago! Oh, thou Muse, bring me Memory, that I may know
myself now as I was then! Was I then a mule driver, or a bootblack in
America; a _mozo_ in Mexico, or an Emperor of Germany?”
He sipped the tasteless liquid and lapsed into silence.
Guillermo Gonzales nodded to Governor Lehumada significantly, and the
Governor at once made his exit.
He hurried to his dressing-room and began to make some changes in his
toilet. Satisfied with himself from the reflection he saw in the mirror,
he rang for the coach, and while waiting for it to be announced,
exclaimed: “The greatest moment in my life has come! Dearest Helen, thou
wilt be mine! You must! You shall! I have lived sadly through one
existence searching for you, and several times during this life I have
been on the very verge of despair because I could not find you—and I
would have despaired, were it not that even in a past life I knew a
power would be given to me to discover an element from Nature which
would be instrumental in bringing you to my arms. The insincerity of
humanity has, since the beginning of time, caused more heartaches and
trouble than any other one thing. To the great Creator I certainly give
thanks for the germ of sincerity he sowed in my breast, and the proper
nutrition he placed there to make it grow. There, Juan says my coach is
ready; I must hasten to meet my love.”
With a sweeping glance at his mirror, he hastened out of the room and
down the long stairs. On nearing the drawing-room door, Juan said: “Your
Honor, a señorita awaits you in the drawing-room.”
The Governor took the large white card from the silver tray his man held
out to him, and with a look of dismay upon his face, read aloud: “Miss
Marriet Motuble.” “A very great disappointment, dear, dear Helen. When
will I ever have another opportunity to see you? It is unjust for me to
feel this way. I will enter at once, and not keep the señorita waiting.
Juan, tell Miss Motuble I will be in at once.”
While Juan entered the drawing-room Governor Lehumada removed his gloves
and hat, and was glad to have the opportunity to collect himself, and
when Juan reappeared, he asked: “Do you see any signs of displeasure on
my face?”
“No, your Honor; your face is as serene as the morning sky.”
“Thanks, Juan. It is another victory. Take my hat and gloves, and tell
the coachman to go to the Alameda. The child, Catalina Martinet, is
there; should she desire to use the conveyance, take her wherever she
wishes to go. Tell him to say to her that I had started for her, and at
the last moment was disappointed at being unable to go,” whispered
Governor Lehumada, into the ears of his trusty man. Was all the long
message sent to the child meant only to be delivered for her ears?
“Certainly not,” mentally remarked Juan. “I kind of have a suspicion
that there is something more than ‘Memory Fluid’ bothering the Governor
for several days; but then I am only Juan, and not a great Governor,
author and scientist. I will experiment one day, if I can, and help to
solve the great problem of life. I wonder if it is probable that the
Governor has fallen in love with some beautiful young woman? I will find
out, if it can be done. I will from this moment camp on his tracks, and
when I have a chance I will _slip_ some ‘Memory Fluid,’ for I has a
notion in my old head that I lived before. I has a notion that Mr.
Niksab and J. Ecarg, were known to me somewhere, long, long ago.” He
smiled to himself as he went out to give the Governor’s orders.
On his return to the house he stationed himself conveniently near the
drawing-room door, so close that every word uttered by the aggressive
señorita was heard by him.
When Governor Lehumada entered the drawing-room, he felt very much like
a schoolboy who had been punished for not wanting to enter the parlor
and be pleasant to callers. He was ashamed of himself, and tried to make
amends for his actions by being more gracious than was necessary.
Miss Motuble mistook his gallantry and great hospitality for
demonstrations of love, and after greeting the object of her affections,
she sank into a chair close by, much overcome with emotions. She
believed she had won a conquest. She was unable for some minutes to
speak. Her face became red and white by turns, her breast heaved with
great convulsions, while her hand trembled so violently that she had no
power over the fan she was trying to move.
The Governor saw the condition she was in, and from the bottom of his
heart he pitied her. The object of _his_ heart’s desire affected him
much the same way when he saw her. “But I need no sympathy,” he argued
to himself, “for my love is reciprocated; my Helen is mine, and I am
hers. It is the law of the inevitable. It could not be otherwise. Miss
Motuble,” he continued, “is there any way in which I can serve you this
morning? Can it be you are not well?”
The tone in which he addressed her, more than what he said, was the
tonic Miss Motuble needed. She failed to hide her irritation, and
sitting erect in a moment, her face, crimson with rage, said: “How can
you serve me this morning? I need no assistance whatever, sir. I am
neither in need of money or advice; on the other hand, I came to proffer
certain valuable information I have recently obtained. I ferreted it
out. I admit it cost me considerable time and expense, but I learned of
the scorpion’s movements, as well as his entire pedigree. I have it all
here—the written statements of many who knew him. He was not an opera
singer in the life long past; he was a vocalist in a missionary choir,
and he wafted his dulcet tones high and loud every Sunday for the
edification of the congregation which, by the way, was very small. I
know them all, the scorpions. Then to think I came here to tell you of
my remembrances and the many written statements I have from others to
aid you in your great experiments, and am approached by you as the
aggressor, the one to whom a favor needs to be shown. No, Governor
Lehumada; no, sir, I will not tolerate any such impudence even from you.
I will not further state the object of my call. I now have the pleasure
to bid you good morning.” She arose to her feet, and with one turn of
her huge frame had swept past the Governor.
She had spoken so fast and so fiercely, after she came out of the
half-crazed condition into which her great love and passion had thrown
her, that the good Governor knew not what to do or what to say to quiet
her. As she passed into the hall he called to her: “Miss Motuble, I pray
you, my good young lady, to stay, if only for one moment. You do not
understand me. I certainly am clumsy in my expressions. Dear miss,
pardon me; if you have inferred a discourtesy by any remark I have made,
pray, forgive me. You are a source of great wonder and delight to me,
and carry a fund of valuable information.” He approached her, as she
stood near Juan panting like a tiger at bay, and gently laying his hand
upon her arm, said: “I am forgiven, am I not? I certainly never
intentionally offend anyone, particularly a woman.”
She turned her face, full of shame and regret, to him, and with tears in
her eyes, said: “Dearie, I am so lonely; you do care for me, don’t you?
It is not true, as I suspected, that your whole love is centered in
Helen Hinckley. Is it, dearie?”
With that she threw her massive arms around his neck with such great
force, that his body swayed to and fro like a babe in the paws of a
lion.
With her head on his shoulder, she sobbed: “Dear, dear Miguey, my
dearie, forgive me for mistrusting you. I was frenzied with what I
thought unrequited love. Great Revealer of Light, I thank you for making
me see my mistake.” When her petition was ended she loosened her arms
from around his neck. Governor Lehumada sank helplessly against the
wall, and Juan sprang forward and exclaimed:
“Your Honor, the señorita has choked you.” He supported the Governor,
and addressing Marriet Motuble, said: “You are accountable, miss, for
the helpless condition of my master. You seem to remember too much.”
All the time he had spoken to her, his back was turned. Now, facing the
place where she had stood, he said: “I take charge of the house, now
that my master is unconscious, so, you git!” But to his great dismay she
was gone.
He rang for help, and soon the Governor was lying comfortably in his own
bed.