SUCCESS IN SILK
As things are, I think women are generally better creatures
than men.--_S.T. Coleridge_.
It was a part of my duties, when in Washington, to assist my chief in
his personal and official correspondence, which necessarily was very
heavy. This work we customarily began about nine of the morning. On the
following day I was on hand earlier than usual. I was done with
Washington now, done with everything, eager only to be off on the far
trails once more. But I almost forgot my own griefs when I saw my chief.
When I found him, already astir in his office, his face was strangely
wan and thin, his hands bloodless. Over him hung an air of utter
weariness; yet, shame to my own despair, energy showed in all his
actions. Resolution was written on his face. He greeted me with a smile
which strangely lighted his grim face.
"We have good news of some kind this morning, sir?" I inquired.
In answer, he motioned me to a document which lay open upon his table.
It was familiar enough to me. I glanced at the bottom. There were _two_
signatures!
"Texas agrees!" I exclaimed. "_The Doña Lucrezia has won Van Zandt's
signature!_"
I looked at him. His own eyes were swimming wet! This, then, was that
man of whom it is only remembered that he was a pro-slavery champion.
"It will be a great country," said he at last. "This once done, I shall
feel that, after all, I have not lived wholly in vain."
"But the difficulties! Suppose Van Zandt proves traitorous to us?"
"He dare not. Texas may know that he bargained with England, but he dare
not traffic with Mexico and let _that_ be known. He would not live a
day."
"But perhaps the Doña Lucrezia herself might some time prove fickle."
"_She_ dare not! She never will. She will enjoy in secret her revenge on
perfidious Albion, which is to say, perfidious Pakenham. Her nature is
absolutely different from that of the Baroness von Ritz. The Doña
Lucrezia dreams of the torch of love, not the torch of principle!"
"The public might not approve, Mr. Calhoun; but at least there _were_
advantages in this sort of aids!"
"We are obliged to find such help as we can. The public is not always
able to tell which was plot and which counterplot in the accomplishment
of some intricate things. The result excuses all. It was written that
Texas should come to this country. Now for Oregon! It grows, this idea
of democracy!"
"At least, sir, you will have done your part. Only now--"
"Only what, then?"
"We are certain to encounter opposition. The Senate may not ratify this
Texas treaty."
"The Senate will _not_ ratify," said he. "I am perfectly well advised of
how the vote will be when this treaty comes before it for ratification.
We will be beaten, two to one!"
"Then, does that not end it?"
"End it? No! There are always other ways. If the people of this country
wish Texas to belong to our flag, she will so belong. It is as good as
done to-day. Never look at the obstacles; look at the goal! It was this
intrigue of Van Zandt's which stood in our way. By playing one intrigue
against another, we have won thus far. We must go on winning!"
He paced up and down the room, one hand smiting the other. "Let England
whistle now!" he exclaimed exultantly. "We shall annex Texas, in full
view, indeed, of all possible consequences. There can be no
consequences, for England has no excuse left for war over Texas. I only
wish the situation were as clear for Oregon."
"There'll be bad news for our friend Señor Yturrio when he gets back to
his own legation!" I ventured.
"Let him then face that day when Mexico shall see fit to look to us for
aid and counsel. We will build a mighty country _here_, on _this_
continent!"
"Mr. Pakenham is accredited to have certain influence in our Senate."
"Yes. We have his influence exactly weighed. Yet I rejoice in at least
one thing--one of his best allies is not here."
"You mean Señor Yturrio?"
"I mean the Baroness von Ritz. And now comes on that next nominating
convention, at Baltimore."
"What will it do?" I hesitated.
"God knows. For me, I have no party. I am alone! I have but few friends
in all the world"--he smiled now--"you, my boy, as I said, and Doctor
Ward and a few women, all of whom hate each other."
I remained silent at this shot, which came home to me; but he smiled,
still grimly, shaking his head. "Rustle of silk, my boy, rustle of
silk--it is over all our maps. But we shall make these maps! Time shall
bear me witness."
"Then I may start soon for Oregon?" I demanded.
"You shall start to-morrow," he answered.