to see one sitting on a log in the rain."
"He's a very good king," said Stedman, confidentially; "and though you
mightn't think it to look at him, he's a terrible stickler for
etiquette and form. After supper he'll give you an audience; and if
you have any tobacco, you had better give him some as a present, and
you'd better say it's from the President: he doesn't like to take
presents from common people, he's so proud. The only reason he borrows
mine is because he thinks I'm the President's son."
"What makes him think that?" demanded the consul, with some shortness.
Young Mr. Stedman looked nervously at the consul and at Albert, and
said that he guessed some one must have told him.
The consul's office was divided into four rooms with an open court in
the middle, filled with palms, and watered somewhat unnecessarily by a
fountain.
"I made that," said Stedman, in a modest, offhand way. "I made it out
of hollow bamboo reeds connected with a spring. And now I'm making one
for the King. He saw this and had a lot of bamboo sticks put up all
over the town, without any underground connections, and couldn't make
out why the water wouldn't spurt out of them. And because mine spurts,
he thinks I'm a magician."
"I suppose," grumbled the consul, "some one told him that too."
[Illustration: "I never saw a king," Gordon remarked.]
"I suppose so," said Mr. Stedman, uneasily.
There was a veranda around the consul's office, and inside the walls
were hung with skins, and pictures from illustrated papers, and there
was a good deal of bamboo furniture, and four broad, cool-looking
beds. The place was as clean as a kitchen. "I made the furniture,"
said Stedman, "and the Bradleys keep the place in order."
"Who are the Bradleys?" asked Albert.
"The Bradleys are those two men you saw with me," said Stedman; "they
deserted from a British man-of-war that stopped here for coal, and
they act as my servants. One is Bradley, Sr., and the other Bradley,
Jr."
"Then vessels do stop here occasionally?" the consul said, with a
pleased smile.
"Well, not often," said Stedman. "Not so very often; about once a
year. The Nelson thought this was Octavia, and put off again as soon
as she found out her mistake, but the Bradleys took to the bush, and
the boat's crew couldn't find them. When they saw your flag, they
thought you might mean to send them back, so they ran off to hide
again; they'll be back, though, when they get hungry."
The supper young Stedman spread for his guests, as he still treated
them, was very refreshing and very good. There was cold fish and
pigeon pie, and a hot omelet filled with mushrooms and olives and
tomatoes and onions all sliced up together, and strong black coffee.
After supper, Stedman went off to see the King, and came back in a
little while to say that his Majesty would give them an audience the
next day after breakfast. "It is too dark now," Stedman explained;
"and it's raining so that they can't make the street-lamps burn. Did
you happen to notice our lamps? I invented them; but they don't work
very well yet. I've got the right idea, though, and I'll soon have the
town illuminated all over, whether it rains or not."
The consul had been very silent and indifferent, during supper, to all
around him. Now he looked up with some show of interest.
"How much longer is it going to rain, do you think?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know," said Stedman, critically. "Not more than two
months, I should say." The consul rubbed his rheumatic leg and sighed,
but said nothing.
The Bradleys returned about ten o'clock, and came in very sheepishly.
The consul had gone off to pay the boatmen who had brought them, and
Albert in his absence assured the sailors that there was not the least
danger of their being sent away. Then he turned into one of the beds,
and Stedman took one in another room, leaving the room he had occupied
heretofore for the consul. As he was saying good-night, Albert
suggested that he had not yet told them how he came to be on a
deserted island; but Stedman only laughed and said that that was a
long story, and that he would tell him all about it in the morning. So
Albert went off to bed without waiting for the consul to return, and
fell asleep, wondering at the strangeness of his new life, and
assuring himself that if the rain only kept up, he would have his
novel finished in a month.
The sun was shining brightly when he awoke, and the palm-trees outside
were nodding gracefully in a warm breeze. From the court came the odor
of strange flowers, and from the window he could see the ocean
brilliantly blue, and with the sun coloring the spray that beat
against the coral reefs on the shore.
"Well, the consul can't complain of this," he said, with a laugh of
satisfaction; and pulling on a bath-robe, he stepped into the next
room to awaken Captain Travis. But the room was quite empty, and the
bed undisturbed. The consul's trunk remained just where it had been
placed near the door, and on it lay a large sheet of foolscap, with
writing on it, and addressed at the top to Albert Gordon. The
handwriting was the consul's. Albert picked it up and read it with
much anxiety. It began abruptly
The fishermen who brought us to this forsaken spot tell me that
it rains here six months in the year, and that this is the first
month. I came here to serve my country, for which I fought and
bled, but I did not come here to die of rheumatism and pneumonia.
I can serve my country better by staying alive; and whether it
rains or not, I don't like it. I have been grossly deceived, and
I am going back. Indeed, by the time you get this, I will be on
my return trip, as I intend leaving with the men who brought us
here as soon as they can get the sail up. My cousin, Senator
Rainsford, can fix it all right with the President, and can have
me recalled in proper form after I get back. But of course it
would not do for me to leave my post with no one to take my
place, and no one could be more ably fitted to do so than
yourself; so I feel no compunctions at leaving you behind. I
hereby, therefore, accordingly appoint you my substitute with
full power to act, to collect all fees, sign all papers, and
attend to all matters pertaining to your office as American
consul, and I trust you will worthily uphold the name of that
country and government which it has always been my pleasure and
duty to serve.
Your sincere friend and superior officer,
LEONARD T. TRAVIS.
P.S. I did not care to disturb you by moving my trunk, so I left
it, and you can make what use you please of whatever it contains,
as I shall not want tropical garments where I am going. What you
will need most, I think, is a waterproof and umbrella.
P.S. Look out for that young man Stedman. He is too inventive. I
hope you will like your high office; but as for myself, I am
satisfied with little old New York. Opeki is just a bit too far
from civilization to suit me.
Albert held the letter before him and read it over again before he
moved. Then he jumped to the window. The boat was gone, and there was
not a sign of it on the horizon.
"The miserable old hypocrite!" he cried, half angry and half laughing.
"If he thinks I am going to stay here alone he is very greatly
mistaken. And yet, why not?" he asked. He stopped soliloquizing and
looked around him, thinking rapidly. As he stood there, Stedman came
in from the other room, fresh and smiling from his morning's bath.
"Good-morning," he said, "where's the consul?"
"The consul," said Albert, gravely, "is before you. In me you see the
American consul to Opeki."
"Captain Travis," Albert explained, "has returned to the United
States. I suppose he feels that he can best serve his country by
remaining on the spot. In case of another war, now, for instance, he
would be there to save it again."
"And what are you going to do?" asked Stedman, anxiously. "You will
not run away, too, will you?"
Albert said that he intended to remain where he was and perform his
consular duties, to appoint him his secretary, and to elevate the
United States in the opinion of the Opekians above all other nations.
"They may not think much of the United States in England," he said;
"but we are going to teach the people of Opeki that America is first
on the map and that there is no second."
"I'm sure it's very good of you to make me your secretary," said
Stedman, with some pride. "I hope I won't make any mistakes. What are
the duties of a consul's secretary?" "That," said Albert, "I do not
know. But you are rather good at inventing, so you can invent a few.
That should be your first duty and you should attend to it at once. I
will have trouble enough finding work for myself. Your salary is five
hundred dollars a year; and now," he continued briskly, "we want to
prepare for this reception. We can tell the King that Travis was just
a guard of honor for the trip, and that I have sent him back to tell
the President of my safe arrival. That will keep the President from
getting anxious. There; is nothing," continued Albert, "like a uniform
to impress people who live in the tropics, and Travis, it so happens,
has two in his trunk. He intended to wear them on State occasions, and
as I inherit the trunk and all that is in it, I intend to wear one of
the uniforms, and you can have the other. But I have first choice,
because I am consul."
Captain Travis's consular outfit consisted of one full dress and one
undress United States uniform. Albert put on the dress-coat over a
pair of white flannel trousers, and looked remarkably brave and
handsome. Stedman, who was only eighteen and quite thin, did not
appear so well, until Albert suggested his padding out his chest and
shoulders with towels. This made him rather warm, but helped his
general appearance.
"The two Bradleys must dress up, too," said Albert. "I think they
ought to act as a guard of honor, don't you? The only things I have
are blazers and jerseys; but it doesn't much matter what they wear, as
long as they dress alike."
He accordingly called in the two Bradleys, and gave them each a pair
of the captain's rejected white duck trousers, and a blue jersey
apiece, with a big white Y on it.
"The students of Yale gave me that," he said to the younger Bradley,
"in which to play football, and a great man gave me the other. His
name is Walter Camp; and if you rip or soil that jersey, I'll send you
back to England in irons; so be careful."
Stedman gazed at his companions in their different costumes,
doubtfully. "It reminds me," he said, "of private theatricals. Of the
time our church choir played 'Pinafore.'"
"Yes," assented Albert; "but I don't think we look quite gay enough. I
tell you what we need--medals. You never saw a diplomat without a lot
of decorations and medals."
"Well, I can fix that," Stedman said. "I've got a trunkful. I used to
be the fastest bicycle-rider in Connecticut, and I've got all my
prizes with me."
Albert said doubtfully that that wasn't exactly the sort of medal he
meant.
"Perhaps not," returned Stedman, as he began fumbling in his trunk;
"but the King won't know the difference. He couldn't tell a cross of
the Legion of Honor from a medal for the tug of war."
So the bicycle medals, of which Stedman seemed to have an innumerable
quantity, were strung in profusion over Albert's uniform, and in a
lesser quantity over Stedman's; while a handful of leaden ones, those
sold on the streets for the Constitutional Centennial, with which
Albert had provided himself, were wrapped up in a red silk
handkerchief for presentation to the King; with them Albert placed a
number of brass rods and brass chains, much to Stedman's delighted
approval.
"That is a very good idea," he said. "Democratic simplicity is the
right thing at home, of course; but when you go abroad and mix with
crowned heads, you want to show them that you know what's what."
"Well," said Albert, gravely, "I sincerely hope this crowned head
don't know what's what. If he reads 'Connecticut Agricultural State
Fair. One mile bicycle race. First Prize,' on this badge, when we are
trying to make him believe it's a war medal, it may hurt his
feelings."
Bradley, Jr., went ahead to announce the approach of the American
embassy, which he did with so much manner that the King deferred the
audience a half-hour, in order that he might better prepare to receive
his visitors. When the audience did take place, it attracted the
entire population to the green spot in front of the King's palace, and
their delight and excitement over the appearance of the visitors was
sincere and hearty. The King was too polite to appear much surprised,
but he showed his delight over his presents as simply and openly as a
child. Thrice he insisted on embracing Albert, and kissing him three
times on the fore-head, which, Stedman assured him in a side-whisper,
was a great honor; an honor which was not extended to the secretary,
although he was given a necklace of animals' claws instead, with which
he was better satisfied.
After this reception, the embassy marched back to the consul's office,
surrounded by an immense number of natives, some of whom ran ahead and
looked back at them, and crowded so close that the two Bradleys had to
poke at those nearest with their guns. The crowd remained outside the
office even after the procession of four had disappeared, and cheered.
This suggested to Gordon that this would be a good time to make a
speech, which he accordingly did, Stedman translating it, sentence by
sentence. At the conclusion of this effort, Albert distributed a
number of brass rings among the married men present, which they placed
on whichever finger fitted best, and departed delighted.
Albert had wished to give the rings to the married women, but Stedman
pointed out to him that it would be much cheaper to give them to the
married men; for while one woman could only have one husband, one man
could have at least six wives.
"And now, Stedman," said Albert, after the mob had gone, "tell me what
you are doing on this island."
"It's a very simple story," Stedman said. "I am the representative, or
agent, or operator, for the Yokohama Cable Company. The Yokohama Cable
Company is a company organized in San Francisco, for the purpose of
laying a cable to Yokohama. It is a stock company; and though it
started out very well, the stock has fallen very low. Between
ourselves, it is not worth over three or four cents. When the officers
of the company found out that no one would buy their stock, and that
no one believed in them or their scheme, they laid a cable to Octavia,
and extended it on to this island. Then they said they had run out of
ready money, and would wait until they got more before laying their
cable any farther. I do not think they ever will lay it any farther,
but that is none of my business. My business is to answer cable
messages from San Francisco, so that the people who visit the home
office can see that at least a part of the cable is working. That
sometimes impresses them, and they buy stock. There is another chap
over in Octavia, who relays all my messages and all my replies to
those messages that come to me through him from San Francisco. They
never send a message unless they have brought some one to the office
whom they want to impress, and who, they think, has money to invest in
the Y.C.C. stock, and so we never go near the wire, except at three
o'clock every afternoon. And then generally only to say 'How are you?'
or 'It's raining,' or something like that. I've been saying 'It's
raining,' now for the last three months, but to-day I will say that
the new consul has arrived. That will be a pleasant surprise for the
chap in Octavia, for he must be tired hearing about the weather. He
generally answers, 'Here too,' or 'So you said,' or something like
that. I don't know what he says to the home office. He's brighter than
I am, and that's why they put him between the two ends. He can see
that the messages are transmitted more fully and more correctly, in a
way to please possible subscribers."
"Sort of copy editor," suggested Albert.
"Yes, something of that sort, I fancy," said Stedman.
They walked down to the little shed on the shore, where the Y.C.C.
office was placed, at three that day, and Albert watched Stedman send
off his message with much interest. The "chap at Octavia," on being
informed that the American consul had arrived at Opeki, inquired,
somewhat disrespectfully, "Is it a life sentence?"
"What does he mean by that?" asked Albert.
"I suppose," said his secretary, doubtfully, "that he thinks it a sort
of a punishment to be sent to Opeki. I hope you won't grow to think
so."
"Opeki is all very well," said Gordon, "or it will be when we get
things going our way."
As they walked back to the office, Albert noticed a brass cannon,
perched on a rock at the entrance to the harbor. This had been put
there by the last consul, but it had not been fired for many years.
Albert immediately ordered the two Bradleys to get it in order, and to
rig up a flag-pole beside it, for one of his American flags, which
they were to salute every night when they lowered it at sundown.
"And when we are not using it," he said, "the King can borrow it to
celebrate with, if he doesn't impose on us too often. The royal salute
ought to be twenty-one guns, I think; but that would use up too much
powder, so he will have to content himself with two."
"Did you notice," asked Stedman, that night, as they sat on the
veranda of the consul's house, in the moonlight, "how the people bowed
to us as we passed?"
"Yes," Albert said he had noticed it. "Why?"
"Well, they never saluted me," replied Stedman. "That sign of respect
is due to the show we made at the reception."
"It is due to us, in any event," said the consul, severely. "I tell
you, my secretary, that we, as the representatives of the United
States Government, must be properly honored on this island. We must
become a power. And we must do so without getting into trouble with
the King. We must make them honor him, too, and then as we push him
up, we will push ourselves up at the same time."
"They don't think much of consuls in Opeki," said Stedman, doubtfully.
"You see the last one was a pretty poor sort. He brought the office
into disrepute, and it wasn't really until I came and told them what a
fine country the United States was, that they had any opinion of it at
all. Now we must change all that."
"That is just what we will do," said Albert. "We will transform Opeki
into a powerful and beautiful city. We will make these people work.
They must put up a palace for the King, and lay out streets, and build
wharves, and drain the town properly, and light it. I haven't seen
this patent lighting apparatus of yours, but you had better get to
work at it at once, and I'll persuade the King to appoint you
commissioner of highways and gas, with authority to make his people
toil. And I," he cried, in free enthusiasm, "will organize a navy and
a standing army. Only," he added, with a relapse of interest, "there
isn't anybody to fight."
"There isn't?" said Stedman, grimly, with a scornful smile. "You just
go hunt up old Messenwah and the Hillmen with your standing army once
and you'll get all the fighting you want."
"The Hillmen?" said Albert.
"The Hillmen are the natives that live up there in the hills," Stedman
said, nodding his head toward the three high mountains at the other
end of the island, that stood out blackly against the purple, moonlit
sky. "There are nearly as many of them as there are Opekians, and they
hunt and fight for a living and for the pleasure of it. They have an
old rascal named Messenwah for a king, and they come down here about
once every three months, and tear things up."
Albert sprang to his feet.
"Oh, they do, do they?" he said, staring up at the mountain-tops.
"They come down here and tear up things, do they? Well, I think we'll
stop that, I think we'll stop that! I, don't care how many there are.
I'll get the two Bradleys to tell me all they know about drilling,
to-morrow morning, and we'll drill these Opekians, and have sham
battles, and attacks, and repulses, until I make a lot of wild,
howling Zulus out of them. And when the Hillmen come down to pay their
quarterly visit, they'll go back again on a run. At least some of them
will," he added, ferociously. "Some of them will stay right here."
"Dear me, dear me!" said Stedman, with awe; "you are a born fighter,
aren't you?"
"Well, you wait and see," said Gordon; "maybe I am. I haven't studied
tactics of war and the history of battles, so that I might be a great
war correspondent, without learning something. And there is only one
king on this island, and that is old Ollypybus himself. And I'll go
over and have a talk with him about it to-morrow."
Young Stedman walked up and down the length of the veranda, in and out
of the moonlight, with his hands in his pockets, and his head on his
chest. "You have me all stirred up, Gordon," he said; "you seem so
confident and bold, and you're not so much older than I am, either."
"My training has been different; that's all," said the reporter.
"Yes," Stedman said, bitterly. "I have been sitting in an office ever
since I left school, sending news over a wire or a cable, and you have
been out in the world, gathering it."
"And now," said Gordon, smiling and putting his arm around the other
boy's shoulders, "we are going to make news ourselves."
"There is one thing I want to say to you before you turn in," said
Stedman "Before you suggest all these improvements on Ollypybus, you
must remember that he has ruled absolutely here for twenty years, and
that he does not think much of consuls. He has only seen your
predecessor and yourself. He likes you because you appeared with such
dignity, and because of the presents; but if I were you, I wouldn't
suggest these improvements as coming from yourself."
"I don't understand," said Gordon; "who could they come from?"
"Well," said Stedman, "if you will allow me to advise--and you see I
know these people pretty well--I would have all these suggestions come
from the President direct."
"The President!" exclaimed Gordon; "but how? What does the President
know or care about Opeki? and it would take so long--oh, I see, the
cable. Is that what you have been doing?" he asked.
"Well, only once," said Stedman, guiltily; "that was when he wanted to
turn me out of the consul's office, and I had a cable that very
afternoon, from the President, ordering me to stay where I was.
Ollypybus doesn't understand the cable, of course, but he knows that
it sends messages; and sometimes I pretend to send messages for him to
the President; but he began asking me to tell the President to come
and pay him a visit, and I had to stop it."
"I'm glad you told me," said Gordon. "The President shall begin to
cable to-morrow. He will need an extra appropriation from Congress to
pay for his private cablegrams alone."
"And there's another thing," said Stedman. "In all your plans, you've
arranged for the people's improvement, but not for their amusement;
and they are a peaceful, jolly, simple sort of people, and we must
please them."
"Have they no games or amusements of their own?" asked Gordon.
"Well, not what we would call games."
"Very well, then, I'll teach them base-ball. Foot-ball would be too
warm. But that plaza in front of the King's bungalow, where his palace
is going to be, is just the place for a diamond. On the whole,
though," added the consul, after a moment's reflection, "you'd better
attend to that yourself. I don't think it becomes my dignity as
American consul to take off my coat and give lessons to young Opekians
in sliding to bases; do you? No; I think you'd better do that. The
Bradleys will help you, and you had better begin to-morrow. You have
been wanting to know what a secretary of legation's duties are, and
now you know. It's to organize base-ball nines. And after you get
yours ready," he added, as he turned into his room for the night,
"I'll train one that will sweep yours off the face of the island. For
_this_ American consul can pitch three curves."