The following curious history was related to me by a chance railway
acquaintance. He was a gentleman more than seventy years of age, and his
thoroughly good and gentle face and earnest and sincere manner imprinted
the unmistakable stamp of truth upon every statement which fell from his
lips. He said:
You know in what reverence the royal white elephant of Siam is held by
the people of that country. You know it is sacred to kings, only kings
may possess it, and that it is, indeed, in a measure even superior to
kings, since it receives not merely honor but worship. Very well; five
years ago, when the troubles concerning the frontier line arose between
Great Britain and Siam, it was presently manifest that Siam had been in
the wrong. Therefore every reparation was quickly made, and the British
representative stated that he was satisfied and the past should be
forgotten. This greatly relieved the King of Siam, and partly as a token
of gratitude, but partly also, perhaps, to wipe out any little remaining
vestige of unpleasantness which England might feel toward him, he wished
to send the Queen a present--the sole sure way of propitiating an enemy,
according to Oriental ideas. This present ought not only to be a royal
one, but transcendently royal. Wherefore, what offering could be so meet
as that of a white elephant? My position in the Indian civil service was
such that I was deemed peculiarly worthy of the honor of conveying the
present to her Majesty. A ship was fitted out for me and my servants and
the officers and attendants of the elephant, and in due time I arrived
in New York harbor and placed my royal charge in admirable quarters in
Jersey City. It was necessary to remain awhile in order to recruit the
animal's health before resuming the voyage.
All went well during a fortnight--then my calamities began. The white
elephant was stolen! I was called up at dead of night and informed
of this fearful misfortune. For some moments I was beside myself with
terror and anxiety; I was helpless. Then I grew calmer and collected
my faculties. I soon saw my course--for, indeed, there was but the one
course for an intelligent man to pursue. Late as it was, I flew to
New York and got a policeman to conduct me to the headquarters of the
detective force. Fortunately I arrived in time, though the chief of the
force, the celebrated Inspector Blunt was just on the point of leaving
for his home. He was a man of middle size and compact frame, and when
he was thinking deeply he had a way of kniting his brows and tapping his
forehead reflectively with his finger, which impressed you at once with
the conviction that you stood in the presence of a person of no common
order. The very sight of him gave me confidence and made me hopeful.
I stated my errand. It did not flurry him in the least; it had no more
visible effect upon his iron self-possession than if I had told him
somebody had stolen my dog. He motioned me to a seat, and said, calmly:
“Allow me to think a moment, please.”
So saying, he sat down at his office table and leaned his head upon
his hand. Several clerks were at work at the other end of the room; the
scratching of their pens was all the sound I heard during the next six
or seven minutes. Meantime the inspector sat there, buried in thought.
Finally he raised his head, and there was that in the firm lines of his
face which showed me that his brain had done its work and his plan was
made. Said he--and his voice was low and impressive:
“This is no ordinary case. Every step must be warily taken; each step
must be made sure before the next is ventured. And secrecy must be
observed--secrecy profound and absolute. Speak to no one about the
matter, not even the reporters. I will take care of them; I will see
that they get only what it may suit my ends to let them know.” He
touched a bell; a youth appeared. “Alaric, tell the reporters to remain
for the present.” The boy retired. “Now let us proceed to business--and
systematically. Nothing can be accomplished in this trade of mine
without strict and minute method.”
He took a pen and some paper. “Now--name of the elephant?”
“Hassan Ben Ali Ben Selim Abdallah Mohammed Moisé Alhammal
Jamsetjejeebhoy Dhuleep Sultan Ebu Bhudpoor.”
“Very well. Given name?”
“Jumbo.”
“Very well. Place of birth?”
“The capital city of Siam.”
“Parents living?”
“No--dead.”
“Had they any other issue besides this one?”
“None. He was an only child.”
“Very well. These matters are sufficient under that head. Now
please describe the elephant, and leave out no particular, however
insignificant--that is, insignificant from your point of view. To men
in my profession there are no insignificant particulars; they do not
exist.”