Presently the princess came and sat by the side of her aunt, the queen.
Ihoas bowed herself away and as quickly disappeared below, where she
sought relief and opportunity in the crowded garden. She had a duty
to perform, and though her position must be an embarrassing one, her
appearance could but arouse interest, invoking both happiness and hope.
On the steps at the veranda in front Ihoas met Aokahameha accompanied
by Colonel Young; they had disposed of their commands at the armory
and returned to pay respects and join in the festivities at the villa.
The one tall, dark and austere: the other slight, fair and genteel,
they doffed their helmets to the stately princess as she met and
congratulated them upon the events of the day. There was indeed a wide
contrast between the old-time feats of chivalry, as exemplified in the
one, and the modern heraldic display, underlying the martial supremacy
of the other; yet Ihoas was brave, and with her memory running back
and her heart yearning for still another she made no distinction,
greeting them alike with a heartiness that bespoke neither preference
nor prejudice. Perhaps Floyd Young may have conjured a distrust in her
composure, but he became quite undeceived as to his comrade’s position,
for the young prince unconsciously betrayed the secret of his love.
Designing not to intrude upon good will, Young withdrew and sauntered
into the midst of the gayety on the lawns. Not a few offered words
of felicitation as the deserving young officer passed on, addressing
this one or recognizing that one, but none seemed to express more
than passing interest in what he had hoped to be the most successful
military parade the little kingdom had seen. The seeming indifference
stung him sharply, but he remembered that this was the queen’s day,
however loyal the opposition, and acting in obedience to natural
impulse turned toward the portico where his eyes met fairly those of
the princess, Kaiuolani.
The dazzling garnishments of his regalia glittered in the sunlight and
heightened the sparkle in Kaiuolani’s eyes as he bowed and turned to
shake the hand of Mr. Elmsford--Oscar Donworth Elmsford--a discarded
English duke, an artist by profession, but at that time a resident
manager who stood high in social circles at the capital city, Honolulu.
A frown crossed the queen’s brow; she had witnessed the glance of
recognition, which had so inadvertently passed between the two, and as
quickly engaged the princess in conversation. Young did not observe the
apparent change in her majesty’s countenance, but continued talking to
his neighbor, Elmsford, till presently Ihoas again came upon the scene
of his discomfiture.
This faithful intermediary had had her say with Aokahameha, and left
him standing in the shade of the veranda, debating whether to follow
and press his claim for a true love or go above and encourage a
false one. He had understood Ihoas’s warning only too well, but for
that did not believe her lost to him,--although she had positively
declared her preference for the man that she was at that very moment
approaching,--and as to Kaiuolani: she was entirely too frolicsome for
him, and he doubted even her aunt’s ability to govern her decision in
any manner, much less about a thing so vital as that of marriage. The
sudden turn of affairs disturbed but did not overwhelm the puzzled man,
who stood momentarily debating his proper course, then entered the
house and ascended the stairs.
Turning, Young again paid his respects to the designing Ihoas. A slight
flush perceptibly reddened his face. A new thought possessed him; he
would use her to relieve himself and disarm others as to the possible
thought of any rising intimacy with Kaiuolani.
Barely granting Ihoas an opportunity to recognize the artist manager,
whom she had grown to love with a passion characteristic only of her
race, Young said, banteringly:
“You do me undeserved honor, in granting me this the second opportunity
to greet you this morning. Will you join me while paying respects to
Sir Charles, the princess Kaiuolani’s father? He is over there, in the
shade of the old historic palm--let us go.”
The thought of arousing Kaiuolani’s jealousy suddenly flashed into
Ihoas’s mind. Possibly she may have divined a submerged interest in
herself, lurking in the colonel’s motive: if so, she was mistaking;
withal her dignified bearing and noble sentiment, Floyd Young at heart
preferred another kind of quest. And when he really led her away his
only purpose augured of the subtle art of diplomacy. His every hope
was founded upon the progress of events, and from the time he had
landed in Honolulu--an ambitious but penniless youth, from far distant
New York, a recent graduate from Columbia, educated in the law and
honorably discharged from the State militia--his advance had been due
to his sterling grasp with opportunity, his ideals founded upon what
he believed to be the ultimate decree of human greatness--the military
strength of a country, the force behind the throne and the arbiter of
God’s eternal law. Love, with him, was an essential trait of manly
existence, but its rite should be more: marriage must be made the
stepping-stone to a broader usefulness, used to round out a sphere
in which man attains his noblest virtue, serves in the molding and
wielding of destiny.
A union with the heir apparent would strengthen his position and open
the way to a larger development, but the time had not yet come nor was
it advisable upon this occasion to publish even the possibility of so
daring a prospect. If he could only check the impetuous princess, and
confuse the minds of others, by paying some unusual attention to Ihoas,
he should gain a positive advantage; so he led the advance adroitly,
and his willing victim--of the same mind, but with a different end in
view--assisted in the ruse with all the grace and likelihood at her
disposal.
“By jove,” said the surprised Englishman, to himself, as the others
walked away; “she has cut me cold! I wonder if she really means
it? I hope so, at all events. I can’t stand her pose: it lacks in
perspective. Besides, a respite would give me the chance to trim my
sails for a more likely princess.”
Elmsford once more shifted positions, always keeping himself in the
open and within sight of the portico, frequently adjusting his eyeglass
and vainly assuming a bearing strictly in accord with his shrivelled
dignity. His robust figure and odd mannerism finally attracted the
queen’s attention, causing her to remark, pleasantly:
“I wonder who is the guest in fancy dress? He seems to be always
looking this way!”
“Oh, that is Mr. Elmsford--the gentleman papa has given the privilege
of doing my portrait in oil. He is really an interesting character;
and, they say, of the English nobility. We shall, no doubt, see more of
him before the day is out,” said Kaiuolani, in her characteristically
careless way.
“I trust not; at least, until after the _leis_” (a kind of ceremony,
at which the victor in the games--formerly literally, but at that time
figuratively--was crowned with a garland by the queen of flowers,
usually a chosen princess). “Any sort of a coxcomb from over there
becomes a gentleman immediately he is stranded upon our shores. I am
very weary of it all,” replied the queen, with emphasis.
“But, aunty, they are so nice; and then, you know, the ‘foreigners’
have given us so much of civilization--they say, all that we have,”
continued the princess, innocently.
“They say so; but, I vow, we have not gained so very much. There was
far more contentment and much less distress before they set their
treacherous feet upon our sacred soil. Excuse me, dear; I should not
talk like that; but, I cannot help giving vent to my feelings, at
times,” said Liliuokolani, proud, and unable to restrain the deep and
abiding sorrow that welled up from her hard-tried benevolence.
“Never mind, aunty; everything will in time come out for the best. We
all love you, and will comfort you, no matter what the consequences,”
said Kaiuolani, moved with natural sympathy.
“I do wish that Aokahameha would come; we can trust him, and he is
such a noble man. I should choose him to others less qualified if more
pretentious,” answered the queen, guardedly concerned as to Kaiuolani’s
attitude.
The princess did not answer, but her thoughts went out, in a myriad
aspects, to the crowning event of the day. It had of right fallen to
her to place the braided wreath upon the brow of a chosen champion,
and there arose no question in her mind as to the choice she should
make, yet the pathos of her majesty’s situation appealed momentarily
to Kaiuolani’s sympathy. Judgment seemed a thing quite foreign to
her temperament, and she sat battling between love and affection
till presently Aokahameha walked into their presence, bidding both a
friendly good-morning.
Kaiuolani brightened. It mattered not so much who the visitor might be,
just so his coming brought new interest; for remaining there on that
portico, alone with her aunt, on so delectable a morning, amid such a
host of admirers, became almost unbearable.
“I am so glad you came, Aoka--aunty and I were this moment talking
about you--the parade was just lovely--how I do admire the--horses!”
said Kaiuolani, without stopping to regain her breath or divine the
effect of her speech.
“The prince deserves our compliments,” said the queen, quickly and
earnestly.
“Thank you,” replied he, bowing.
Perhaps Aokahameha’s unsympathetic answer caused her majesty to
hesitate further conversing,--Kaiuolani waited for him to introduce a
more inviting subject,--and the prince, glad that the queen had stopped
short of then and there betrothing them, the hapless culprits, leaned
against the railing and pondered anxiously an incident accidentally
noticed while approaching.
On reaching the top of the stairs, having trod softly over the
noiseless carpet, the prince had involuntarily hesitated before
entering the boudoir, through which he must pass to gain access to the
portico, and observed through the wide open door one of her majesty’s
ladies in waiting hidden behind the folds of the drapery, overhanging
the exit, and within convenient hearing distance of Kaiuolani and the
queen.
The recognition, instantaneous and unpleasant as it proved to be,
was mutual, and Martha Norton, flushed and confused, tried as best
she could to divert attention by pretending to have been arranging
Liliuokolani’s private writing table, the most convenient if suspicious
article at hand. Aokahameha paused suddenly, then recovering himself
walked in and through the room to the portico in front without
manifesting the slightest concern or pretending to notice the surprised
woman’s unbecoming act. The unexpected meeting, however, though to
neither of them no more disconcerting than pleasing, revealed to him a
pressing danger.
He said nothing about the circumstance, nor tried to elicit the
purport of a conversation that an enemy had evidently overheard, but so
lost himself in studied contemplation that his anxious hostess directly
suffered more discomfiture at his silence than she could have done from
a complete revelation of the occurrence.
Discovered, the listening attendant quickly withdrew and sought her
confidant, among the guests below. The sharp-visaged spinstress had
not long to search, for Xane Bender, eager and cunning, awaited her
coming at a secluded place in the background. His dark brow and sunken
form fairly writhed in distress, when the spying emissary reported the
queen’s conversation and predicted that Kaiuolani would place the crown
upon Aokahameha’s brow.
“They are a treacherous lot, these dusky Islanders; the old scapegrace
as good as promised that I should be selected by that rattle-headed
flirt, whose Scotch cross with a Polynesian ape entitles her to so
pretentious a claim. I will have her, by G----d: Xane Bender shall
not be trifled with!” hissed the maddened man, his foul teeth showing
white, while clenching nervously his one deformed fist and glancing
with furtive eyes from under a stooped and tortuous posture.
“I would advise that you hold your temper; this is not an agreeable
time or place for the making of idle accusations. What care we for
their descent or protestations? It is success that we covet: we should
rather use our wit than lose it,” said the wily Norton, with biting
emphasis.
“D----d harlot; accursed woman; you would chide me now, that you think
Young is safe. I’ll beat your game to a standstill, see you in hades,
shorn of the last pretence, before I go down to defeat, alone and
single handed. The princess shall marry me, then you can the better
victimize the colonel; though little worth he is, I assure you,” said
her tormentor, with curled-up lip and sarcastic voice.
“Take care, Xane Bender; I have a hand yet to play, that you little
suspect. And if you press me--beware----”
“Strumpet! Adventuress! Why should I press anybody? Have I not given
you honor, position, influence--all that you possess? Whose money----”
“Why, good-morning, Mr. Bender. I see that you are very delightfully
engaged with my most worthy assistant. I trust that I am not
intruding--am I?” said a mild, effeminate voice, as a jolly,
whole-souled Progressionist bobbed round the bush, discovering them, as
he thought, in the very act of love-making.
“Good-morning, Mr. Wayntro. Good-morning, sir! I hope you are both well
and happy this morning. Miss Norton and I, as you see, were just having
a little pleasantry; discussing the social side of the function--not
for publication, of course--the good lady journalist is too considerate
for that--but only in a friendly way--as we are often wont to do, at an
aside from the constant crush of congratulatory friends,” replied the
designing Bender, with changed expression and fawning politeness.
“I vow: I myself found their lavishments somewhat depressing,” answered
the interloping newspaper man, quite boastfully.
“Mr. Bender has been very kind to me, and I hardly know how I should
have survived the morning had it not been for his timely attention,”
proffered the good Miss Norton, without any apparent recollection of
what had sooner taken place.
George Wayntro was the sometime founder and at that auspicious moment
proprietor of the _Ware Wizzard Wise_, the newspaper of the place,
independent as professed but Progressionist by accident; and Miss
Martha Norton, a still later importation from America, had by stint of
endeavor and the help of Bender risen on the staff from local reporter
to chief assistant editor. Her word bore much weight with the would-be
brilliant proprietor; and in consideration of the many “turns” she
had done her friend Bender, that crafty fellow had forced the lady
editor’s claims also in other directions; at least to the extent of
wresting from the queen herself the illy deserved social distinction
his calculating accomplice then enjoyed: that of a lady in waiting--by
courtesy if not in reality.
The three immediately sauntered into the open, where shortly they
came upon Colonel Young and the Princess Ihoas, who sat conversing
pleasantly with the Honorable Sir Charles Stuart Prentiss,--president
of the local foreign club, and the Princess Kaiuolani’s father,--a
retired Scotch gentleman and an early settler in the Islands.
Here they were received with civility, if not politeness; though Young
was not at all friendly in spirit, and as to the rest there seemed
nothing in common between them. No one took the pains to arise at
their coming, and they stood around coldly chatting until presently
Aokahameha and the princess were seen approaching. Kaiuolani’s
presence upon the lawn became the signal for others to move in that
direction, and by the time she had reached her father’s side a
semicircle was formed and all waited anxiously, with the queen in the
distance, the coming event of the day’s festivities.
The happy-go-lucky princess tripped lightly to the front--perhaps a
secret motive impelled the mood: more likely the heart laid bare its
yearning--and taking up the floral wreath, which had been intrusted
to her father’s keeping, she looked all round, from one to another,
her eyes betraying only love,--though the hand battled against
indecision,--and as by chance raised the _leis_ above the blushing
Young, saying with a voice sweetly revealing the soul’s gratitude:
“With this frail token, an emblem, I crown you victor--the people’s
sacred choice, a hero, the queen’s righteous defense.”
The colonel’s voice failed him. He loved Kaiuolani with virtue and in
truth, but the soul revealed a message sweeter than affinity. He would
have undone the wrong had he possessed the power, torn her love girdle
into shreds and thrown it at her feet would that have released him and
saved her. Deep in his heart he felt the sincerity of her rash act, and
with his eyes discerned a thousand hands raised to strike that she had
deigned to venture, yet in the face of positive decision he remained
absolutely helpless. He would do battle with the giants, but a woman’s
way for the moment undid him.
A smile brightened Aokahameha’s countenance as he caught the retreating
glance of Ihoas, whose face grew cold with pallor; she divined
better than he the strength of Liliuokalani’s purpose, and the secret
underlying the composure of Kaiuolani; who, stung with the blush of
bewilderment, turned to her father to escape the confusion of faces
surrounding them.