(PART II.)
When the big liner docked which brought Hulda from the port of Hamburg
one might have seen three anxious-looking men standing on the pier.
Hulda had been the pet of the ship during the trip. She booked a passage
second class, but, because of her good looks and varied accomplishments,
she was invited to the saloon to play and sing. There was a halo of
romance about her, as she was on her way to New York to become a bride,
and it was said that a young scion of a wealthy family or board had
fallen desperately in love with her--a circumstance which greatly
enhanced her importance in the minds of the other passengers.
Hulda appeared on the dock a few minutes after the big steamer had tied
up, with two trunks filled to overflowing with finery and $8 in her
pocket-book. Like the majority of the fair sex, Hulda, when questioned
by the immigration inspector, fibbed about her age, saying she was but
17, instead of 20. This at once led to complications, for, when two of
her lovers lined up to claim her, each was confronted with a grave
problem. Neither of them knew how to get a 17-year-old girl past the
immigration authorities. The farmer from New Jersey was first to assert
his claim to the fair Hulda, but he did not come prepared to have the
knot tied; he brought no aged mother or aunt, so his claim was
disregarded. He shook his head sadly and said, “Well, here’s where I’m
out $284, but perhaps ’tis just as well, for I think she is a little too
fine for a farm in Jersey, anyhow.”
The next applicant, a Southern gentleman from Savannah, now stepped
forward. He showed many letters he had received from Hulda and displayed
an earnestness, too, which would have helped him anywhere in the world
except on that pier. It was evident that Hulda admired him greatly, and
when he told the interpreter he had property which had been valued for
taxes at $60,000 it was with difficulty that the girl could keep herself
from running into his arms. But he was obliged to leave without her, and
Ellis Island stared her in the face.
It was at this juncture that the “architect of the Canal Zone” came
forward to claim her. “I think this young lady belongs to me,” he told
the immigration inspector, with a thin little smile. “I have been
taking an interest in her for several months, and I’ve her mother’s
consent to marry her.” The papers were carefully examined, and the
interpreter told Hulda that this was the man who had the proper claim
upon her. “According to your mother’s letters,” he said, “he is your
guardian, and if you do not marry him he has the right to send you back
to Germany.”
“Gott in Himmel! I must go back now?” said poor Hulda, bursting into
tears.
“The neighbors would say that the man in New York didn’t like you and
turned you down,” said the wily interpreter, “so if I were you I’d stay
and marry this nice, clean-looking old man. He has a good position down
where the Americans are digging the canal, and I bet you he has plenty
of money. Get some of it away from him, and in a few weeks, if you want
to, you can get a divorce. Over here in America, if a man and his wife
can’t agree, they go to a judge and get a divorce.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Hulda, her face brightening, “I’ll go
up to the big city of New York with him and will then run away.”
“Oh, but you will have to marry him right here in the presence of these
men, and I shall have to stay and interpret the ceremony.”
During this conversation the “architect” stood apart, quietly awaiting
the verdict. There were many interested spectators, who gazed admiringly
upon the graceful girl and wondered what it was all about.
Hulda wept copiously, and, the heart of the Vickingstadt being touched,
he made an attempt to console her, saying, “Darling thrish, I’ll make
you happy. I’ll give you jewels and laces galore. What makes you take on
so?”
“Go away, you old devil,” said Hulda. “If you attempt to kiss me I’ll
jump into the water.”
“The Lord be praised and glorified,” ejaculated the Vickingstadt, taken
all aback. “Is that the English that was taught you by the blaguard
schoolmaster, after me payin’ me good money for you?”
Hulda, red in the face, showed plainly that the fighting blood of the
Schneiders was up. The interpreter interposed and said to Hulda, “You
must smile and look pleased, or you will be sent back. The minister is
waiting, and you will have to look as if you were tickled to death over
it.”
Thereupon he took Hulda by the arm and led her to where the “architect”
stood with the Lutheran clergyman.
“Shall I have to say to him I love him?” queried Hulda of the
interpreter.
“You sure will,” was the rejoinder.
“I can’t,” said Hulda, “it will be a lie; I hate him already,” she added
desperately.
In the end, however, they were married, and in accordance with the rites
of the Lutheran Church, to which Hulda belonged.
It will have been noticed that she did not like to swear to a lie, which
was a point in her favor. It will also be seen that the holy institution
of matrimony was being used for fraudulent purposes. If it had been the
United States mail that had been used in a like manner Hulda, the
“architect,” the interpreter and all concerned would have been found
guilty of a misdemeanor, and the immigration authorities would have had
to account for compounding a felony. Both of the contracting parties
swore to unseeming lies, and the Lord’s anointed was in attendance to
see that no word was left out or substituted to make the lies less
patent. The bridegroom swore to endow Hulda with all his worldly goods,
when, as a matter of fact, he only intended to give her a few dollars
now and then. The bride swore, between sobs, that she would love, honor
and obey her husband until death should them part, notwithstanding that
the uppermost thought in her mind was to run away from him as soon as
she should enter the city. Hulda’s feelings can better be imagined than
described when the final words were said. She was married according to
the laws of the universe and to the satisfaction of the immigration
authorities.
It is certain that fate plays strange pranks with some people, for, no
sooner than Hulda and the Vickingstadt had been pronounced man and wife,
than there appeared on the scene the man from Savannah, accompanied by
two prominent New Yorkers and the German Consul.
“Too late,” said a bystander.
“That’s a damn shame,” said a sailor, who had witnessed the whole
tragedy.
Hulda was so overwhelmed by the turn of events that when she saw her
true beloved return she ran to him, clasped him about the neck and then
fainted. The young man naturally looked embarrassed, but he, with
others, assisted her to regain consciousness. The bridegroom adopted a
martyr-like pose, and when the girl had recovered sufficiently to sit in
a chair he addressed the interpreter as follows:
“Tell that crazy gurl that it is a very ondutiful wife she is after
makin’ herself. Tell her that from now until the ind of me life she must
cut all feelin’s of love from her heart for that man or any other man.
Tell her that I have houses in three cities and property in Panama. Tell
her that my income is $3,000 gold a year, besides what I make by me
lectures. Tell her that I neither drink, smoke nor chew. An’, thin, in
the name of Hivin! what more does she want? Tell her I’ll take her to
Colon to-morrow, there be a ship sailin’.”
This was related to the bewildered girl, and she was requested to go
with her husband.
“Be jabbers, ’tis a policeman that I’ll be after gittin’ to watch her
to-night,” he said to himself as he half led, half pulled her to a
coach. “If I don’t, ’tis elope she will with that blaguard Southern
gintleman. An’, after me spindin’ so much money upon her, an’ ’tis
ashamed I’d be to show me face on the Zone if I didn’t take the colleen
back with me.”
After much discussion and interpreting, Hulda was prevailed upon to
accompany her husband to a hotel. Here people were paid to watch her,
while the bridegroom went to dispatch a telegram to the steamship
agency, which read: “reserve bridal soute on ship sailing to-morrow for
Colon.”
When Hulda was taken on board the next day she had been outwardly
appeased by a present from her husband of a diamond ring and $100 in
bright gold pieces, but a fire of hatred, fed by a vanquished purpose,
smoldered in her breast.