THE CONSUL

By Richard Harding Davis

For over forty years, in one part of the world or another, old manMarshall had, served his country as a United States consul. He hadbeen appointed by Lincoln. For a quarter of a century that fact was hisdistinction. It was now his epitaph. But in former years, as each newadministration succeeded the old, it had again and again saved hisofficial head. When victorious and voracious place-hunters, searchingthe map of the world for spoils, dug out his hiding-place and demandedhis consular sign as a reward for a younger and more aggressive partyworker, the ghost of the dead President protected him. In the StateDepartment, Marshall had become a tradition. "You can't touch Him!"the State Department would say; "why, HE was appointed by Lincoln!"Secretly, for this weapon against the hungry headhunters, the departmentwas infinitely grateful. Old man Marshall was a consul after its ownheart. Like a soldier, he was obedient, disciplined; wherever he wassent, there, without question, he would go. Never against exile, againstill-health, against climate did he make complaint. Nor when he was movedon and down to make way for some ne'er-do-well with influence, with abrother-in-law in the Senate, with a cousin owning a newspaper, withrich relatives who desired him to drink himself to death at the expenseof the government rather than at their own, did old man Marshall pointto his record as a claim for more just treatment. 

And it had been an excellent record. His official reports, in a quaint, stately hand, were models of English; full of information, intelligent, valuable, well observed. And those few of his countrymen, who stumbledupon him in the out-of-the-world places to which of late he had beenbanished, wrote of him to the department in terms of admiration and awe. Never had he or his friends petitioned for promotion, until it wasat last apparent that, save for his record and the memory of his deadpatron, he had no friends. But, still in the department the traditionheld and, though he was not advanced, he was not dismissed. 

"If that old man's been feeding from the public trough ever since theCivil War, " protested a "practical" politician, "it seems to me, Mr. Secretary, that he's about had his share. Ain't it time he give someone else a bite? Some of us that has, done the work, that has borne thebrunt----"

"This place he now holds, " interrupted the Secretary of State suavely, "is one hardly commensurate with services like yours. I can't pronouncethe name of it, and I'm not sure just where it is, but I see that, ofthe last six consuls we sent there, three resigned within a month andthe other three died of yellow-fever. Still, if you insist----"

The practical politician reconsidered hastily. "I'm not the sort, "he protested, "to turn out a man appointed by our martyred President. Besides, he's so old now, if the fever don't catch him, he'll die of oldage, anyway. "

The Secretary coughed uncomfortably. "And they say, " he murmured, "republics are ungrateful. "

"I don't quite get that, " said the practical politician. 

Of Porto Banos, of the Republic of Colombia, where as consul Mr. Marshall was upholding the dignity of the United States, little couldbe said except that it possessed a sure harbor. When driven from theCaribbean Sea by stress of weather, the largest of ocean tramps, andeven battle-ships, could find in its protecting arms of coral a safeshelter. But, as young Mr. Aiken, the wireless operator, pointed out, unless driven by a hurricane and the fear of death, no one ever visitedit. Back of the ancient wharfs, that dated from the days when PortoBanos was a receiver of stolen goods for buccaneers and pirates, wererows of thatched huts, streets, according to the season, of dust ormud, a few iron-barred, jail-like barracks, customhouses, municipalbuildings, and the whitewashed adobe houses of the consuls. The backyardof the town was a swamp. Through this at five each morning a rustyengine pulled a train of flat cars to the base of the mountains, and, ifmeanwhile the rails had not disappeared into the swamp, at five in theevening brought back the flat cars laden with odorous coffeesacks. 

In the daily life of Porto Banos, waiting for the return of the train, and betting if it would return, was the chief interest. Each night theconsuls, the foreign residents, the wireless operator, the manager ofthe rusty railroad met for dinner. There at the head of the long table, by virtue of his years, of his courtesy and distinguished manner, of hisoffice, Mr. Marshall presided. Of the little band of exiles he wasthe chosen ruler. His rule was gentle. By force of example he had madeexistence in Porto Banos more possible. For women and children PortoBanos was a death-trap, and before "old man Marshall" came there hadbeen no influence to remind the enforced bachelors of other days. 

They had lost interest, had grown lax, irritable, morose. Their whiteduck was seldom white. Their cheeks were unshaven. When the sun sankinto the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into a Turkishbath, they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Cafe Bolivar fordrinks. The petty gambling led to petty quarrels; the drinks to fever. The coming of Mr. Marshall changed that. His standard of life, histact, his worldly wisdom, his cheerful courtesy, his fastidious personalneatness shamed the younger men; the desire to please him, to, standwell in his good opinion, brought back pride and self-esteem. 

The lieutenant of her Majesty's gun-boat PLOVER noted the change. 

"Used to be, " he exclaimed, "you couldn't get out of the Cafe Bolivarwithout some one sticking a knife in you; now it's a debating club. They all sit round a table and listen to an old gentleman talk worldpolitics. "

If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos, therewas little in return that Porto Banos could give to him. Magazines andcorrespondents in six languages kept him in touch with those foreignlands in which he had represented his country, but of the country he hadrepresented, newspapers and periodicals showed him only too clearlythat in forty years it had grown away from him, had changed beyondrecognition. 

When last he had called at the State Department, he had been made tofeel he was a man without a country, and when he visited his home townin Vermont, he was looked upon as a Rip Van Winkle. Those of his boyhoodfriends who were not dead had long thought of him as dead. And thesleepy, pretty village had become a bustling commercial centre. Inthe lanes where, as a young man, he had walked among wheatfields, trolley-cars whirled between rows of mills and factories. The childrenhad grown to manhood, with children of their own. 

Like a ghost, he searched for house after house, where once he had beenmade welcome, only to find in its place a towering office building. "All had gone, the old familiar faces. " In vain he scanned even the shopfronts for a friendly, homelike name. Whether the fault was his, whether he would better have served his own interests than those of hisgovernment, it now was too late to determine. In his own home, he was astranger among strangers. In the service he had so faithfully followed, rank by rank, he had been dropped, until now he, who twice had been aconsul-general, was an exile, banished to a fever swamp. The great Shipof State had dropped him overside, had "marooned" him, and sailed away. 

Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Cafe Bolivar, and backagain to the consulate. There, as he entered the outer office, Jose, theColombian clerk, would rise and bow profoundly. 

"Any papers for me to sign, Jose?" the consul would ask. 

"Not to-day, Excellency, " the clerk would reply. Then Jose would returnto writing a letter to his lady-love; not that there was any-thing totell her, but because writing on the official paper of the consulategave him importance in his eyes, and in hers. And in the inner officethe consul would continue to gaze at the empty harbor, the empty coralreefs, the empty, burning sky. 

The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the wirelessman came in late to announce that a Red D. Boat and the island ofCuracao had both reported a hurricane coming north. Also, that muchconcern was felt for the safety of the yacht SERAPIS. Three days before, in advance of her coming, she had sent a wireless to Wilhelmstad, askingthe captain of the port to reserve a berth for her. She expected toarrive the following morning. But for forty-eight hours nothing hadbeen heard from her, and it was believed she had been overhauled by thehurricane. Owing to the presence on board of Senator Hanley, the closestfriend of the new President, the man who had made him president, muchconcern was felt at Washington. To try to pick her up by wireless, thegun-boat NEWARK had been ordered from Culebra, the cruiser RALEIGH, with Admiral Hardy on board, from Colon. It was possible she would seekshelter at Porto Banos. The consul was ordered to report. 

As Marshall wrote out his answer, the French consul exclaimed withinterest:

"He is of importance, then, this senator?" he asked. "Is it that in yourcountry ships of war are at the service of a senator?"

Aiken, the wireless operator, grinned derisively. 

"At the service of THIS senator, they are!" he answered. "They call himthe 'king-maker, ' the man behind the throne. "

"But in your country, " protested the Frenchman, "there is no throne. Ithought your president was elected by the people?"

"That's what the people think, " answered Aiken. "In God's country, "he explained, "the trusts want a rich man in the Senate, with the sameinterests as their own, to represent them. They chose Hanley. He pickedout of the candidates for the presidency the man he thought would helpthe interests. He nominated him, and the people voted for him. Hanley iswhat we call a 'boss. '"

The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall. 

"The position of the boss is the more dangerous, " said Marshall gravely, "because it is unofficial, because there are no laws to curtail hispowers. Men like Senator Hanley are a menace to good government. Theysee in public office only a reward for party workers. "

"That's right, " assented Aiken. "Your forty years' service, Mr. Consul, wouldn't count with Hanley. If he wanted your job, he'd throw you out asquick as he would a drunken cook. "

Mr. Marshall flushed painfully, and the French consul hastened tointerrupt. 

"Then, let us pray, " he exclaimed, with fervor, "that the hurricane hassunk the SERAPIS, and all on board. "

Two hours later, the SERAPIS, showing she had met the hurricane and hadcome out second best, steamed into the harbor. 

Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone, of Washington. He once hadbeen in the diplomatic service, and, as minister to The Hague, wished toreturn to it. In order to bring this about he had subscribed liberallyto the party campaign fund. 

With him, among other distinguished persons, was the all-powerfulHanley. The kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise, in itself, demonstratedthe ability of Livingstone as a diplomat. It was the opinion ofmany that it would surely lead to his appointment as a ministerplenipotentiary. Livingstone was of the same opinion. He had not livedlong in the nation's capital without observing the value of propinquity. How many men he knew were now paymasters, and secretaries of legation, solely because those high in the government met them daily at theMetropolitan Club, and preferred them in almost any other place. And if, after three weeks as his guest on board what the newspapers called hisfloating palace, the senator could refuse him even the prize, legationof Europe, there was no value in modest merit. As yet, Livingstonehad not hinted at his ambition. There was no need. To a statesman ofHanley's astuteness, the largeness of Livingstone's contribution to thecampaign fund was self-explanatory. 

After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board theSERAPIS seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto Banos, a compelling attraction. Before the anchors hit the water, they werein the launch. On reaching shore, they made at once for the consulate. There were many cables they wished to start on their way by wireless;cables to friends, to newspapers, to the government. 

Jose, the Colombian clerk, appalled by the unprecedented invasion ofvisitors, of visitors so distinguished, and Marshall, grateful for achance to serve his fellow-countrymen, and especially his countrywomen, were ubiquitous, eager, indispensable. At Jose's desk the great senator, rolling his cigar between his teeth, was using, to Jose's ecstasy, Jose's own pen to write a reassuring message to the White House. Atthe consul's desk a beautiful creature, all in lace and pearls, wasstruggling to compress the very low opinion she held of a hurricaneinto ten words. On his knee, Henry Cairns, the banker, was inditinginstructions to his Wall Street office, and upon himself Livingstonehad taken the responsibility of replying to the inquiries heaped uponMarshall's desk, from many newspapers. 

It was just before sunset, and Marshall produced his tea things, and theyoung person in pearls and lace, who was Miss Cairns, made tea for thewomen, and the men mixed gin and limes with tepid water. The consulapologized for proposing a toast in which they could not join. He beggedto drink to those who had escaped the perils of the sea. Had they beenhis oldest and nearest friends, his little speech could not have beenmore heart-felt and sincere. To his distress, it moved one of the ladiesto tears, and in embarrassment he turned to the men. 

"I regret there is no ice, " he said, "but you know the rule of thetropics; as soon as a ship enters port, the ice-machine bursts. "

"I'll tell the steward to send you some, sir, " said Livingstone, "and aslong as we're here. "

The senator showed his concern. 

"As long as we're here?" he gasped. 

"Not over two days, " answered the owner nervously. "The chief saysit will take all of that to get her in shape. As you ought to know, Senator, she was pretty badly mauled. "

The senator gazed blankly out of the window. Beyond it lay the nakedcoral reefs, the empty sky, and the ragged palms of Porto Banos. 

Livingstone felt that his legation was slipping from him. 

"That wireless operator, " he continued hastily, "tells me there is amost amusing place a few miles down the coast, Las Bocas, a sort ofConey Island, where the government people go for the summer. There'ssurf bathing and roulette and cafes chantants. He says there's someSpanish dancers----"

The guests of the SERAPIS exclaimed with interest; the senator smiled. To Marshall the general enthusiasm over the thought of a ride on amerry-go-round suggested that the friends of Mr. Livingstone had foundtheir own society far from satisfying. 

Greatly encouraged, Livingstone continued, with enthusiasm:

"And that wireless man said, " he added, "that with the launch we canget there in half an hour. We might run down after dinner. " He turned toMarshall. 

"Will you join us, Mr. Consul?" he asked, "and dine with us, first?"

Marshall accepted with genuine pleasure. It had been many monthssince he had sat at table with his own people. But he shook his headdoubtfully. 

"I was wondering about Las Bocas, " he explained, "if your going theremight not get you in trouble at the next port. With a yacht, I think itis different, but Las Bocas is under quarantine. "

There was a chorus of exclamations. 

"It's not serious, " Marshall explained. "There was bubonic plague there, or something like it. You would be in no danger from that. It is onlythat you might be held up by the regulations. Passenger steamerscan't land any one who has been there at any other port of theWest Indies. The English are especially strict. The Royal Mail won'teven receive any one on board here without a certificate from theEnglish consul saying he has not visited Las Bocas. For an Americanthey would require the same guarantee from me. But I don't think theregulations extend to yachts. I will inquire. I don't wish to depriveyou of any of the many pleasures of Porto Banos, " he added, smiling, "but if you were refused a landing at your next port I would blamemyself. "

"It's all right, " declared Livingstone decidedly. "It's just as you say;yachts and warships are exempt. Besides, I carry my own doctor, and ifhe won't give us a clean bill of health, I'll make him walk the plank. At eight, then, at dinner. I'll send the cutter for you. I can't giveyou a salute, Mr. Consul, but you shall have all the side boys I canmuster. "

Those from the yacht parted from their consul in the most friendlyspirit. 

"I think he's charming!" exclaimed Miss Cairns. "And did you notice hisnovels? They were in every language. It must be terribly lonely downhere, for a man like that. "

"He's the first of our consuls we've met on this trip, " growled herfather, "that we've caught sober. "

"Sober!" exclaimed his wife indignantly. 

"He's one of the Marshalls of Vermont. I asked him. "

"I wonder, " mused Hanley, "how much the place is worth? Hamilton, one ofthe new senators, has been deviling the life out of me to send his sonsomewhere. Says if he stays in Washington he'll disgrace the family. Ishould think this place would drive any man to drink himself to death inthree months, and young Hamilton, from what I've seen of him, ought tobe able to do it in a week. That would leave the place open for the nextman. "

"There's a postmaster in my State thinks he carried it. " The senatorsmiled grimly. "He has consumption, and wants us to give him aconsulship in the tropics. I'll tell him I've seen Porto Banos, and thatit's just the place for him. "

The senator's pleasantry was not well received. But Miss Cairns alonehad the temerity to speak of what the others were thinking. 

"What would become of Mr. Marshall?" she asked. The senator smiledtolerantly. 

"I don't know that I was thinking of Mr. Marshall, " he said. "I can'trecall anything he has done for this administration. You see, MissCairns, " he explained, in the tone of one addressing a small child, "Marshall has been abroad now for forty years, at the expense of thetaxpayers. Some of us think men who have lived that long on theirfellow-countrymen had better come home and get to work. "

Livingstone nodded solemnly in assent. He did not wish a post abroad atthe expense of the taxpayers. He was willing to pay for it. And then, with "ex-Minister" on his visiting cards, and a sense of duty wellperformed, for the rest of his life he could join the other expatriatesin Paris. 

Just before dinner, the cruiser RALEIGH having discovered thewhereabouts of the SERAPIS by wireless, entered the harbor, and AdmiralHardy came to the yacht to call upon the senator, in whose behalf hehad been scouring the Caribbean Seas. Having paid his respects to thatpersonage, the admiral fell boisterously upon Marshall. 

The two old gentlemen were friends of many years. They had met, officially and unofficially, in many strange parts of the world. Toeach the chance reunion was a piece of tremendous good fortune. Andthroughout dinner the guests of Livingstone, already bored with eachother, found in them and their talk of former days new and delightfulentertainment. So much so that when, Marshall having assured them thatthe local quarantine regulations did not extend to a yacht, the mendeparted for Las Bocas, the women insisted that he and admiral remainbehind. 

It was for Marshall a wondrous evening. To foregather with his oldfriend whom he had known since Hardy was a mad midshipman, to sit atthe feet of his own charming countrywomen, to listen to their soft, modulated laughter, to note how quickly they saw that to him the eveningwas a great event, and with what tact each contributed to make it themore memorable; all served to wipe out the months of bitter loneliness, the stigma of failure, the sense of undeserved neglect. In themoonlight, on the cool quarter-deck, they sat, in a half-circle, eachof the two friends telling tales out of school, tales of which theother was the hero or the victim, "inside" stories of great occasions, ceremonies, bombardments, unrecorded "shirt-sleeve" diplomacy. 

Hardy had helped to open the Suez Canal. Marshall had assisted the Queenof Madagascar to escape from the French invaders. On the Barbary CoastHardy had chased pirates. In Edinburgh Marshall had played chess withCarlyle. He had seen Paris in mourning in the days of the siege, Parisin terror in the days of the Commune; he had known Garibaldi, Gambetta, the younger Dumas, the creator of Pickwick. 

"Do you remember that time in Tangier, " the admiral urged, "when I was amidshipman, and got into the bashaw's harem?"

"Do you remember how I got you out? Marshall replied grimly. 

"And, " demanded Hardy, "do you remember when Adelina Patti paid a visitto the KEARSARGE at Marseilles in '65--George Dewey was our secondofficer--and you were bowing and backing away from her, and you backedinto an open hatch, and she said 'my French isn't up to it' what was itshe said?"

"I didn't hear it, " said Marshall; "I was too far down the hatch. "

"Do you mean the old KEARSARGE?" asked Mrs. Cairns. "Were you in theservice then, Mr. Marshall?"

With loyal pride in his friend, the admiral answered for him:

"He was our consul-general at Marseilles!"

There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination couldnot escape the contrast, could see in their mind's eye the great harborof Marseilles, crowded with the shipping of the world, surroundingit the beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north, and on thebattleship the young consul-general making his bow to the young Empressof Song. And now, before their actual eyes, they saw the village ofPorto Banos, a black streak in the night, a row of mud shacks, at theend of the wharf a single lantern yellow in the clear moonlight. 

Later in the evening Miss Cairns led the admiral to one side. 

"Admiral, " she began eagerly, "tell me about your friend. Why is hehere? Why don't they give him a place worthy of him? I've seen many ofour representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste menlike that. " The girl exclaimed indignantly: "He's one of the mostinteresting men I've ever met! He's lived everywhere, known every one. He's a distinguished man, a cultivated man; even I can see he knows hiswork, that he's a diplomat, born, trained, that he's----" The admiralinterrupted with a growl. 

"You don't have to tell ME about Henry, " he protested. "I've known Henrytwenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts, " he exclaimed hotly, "hewouldn't be a consul on this coral reef; he'd be a minister in Europe. Look at me! We're the same age. We started together. When Lincoln senthim to Morocco as consul, he signed my commission as a midshipman. Now I'm an admiral. Henry has twice my brains and he's been aconsul-general, and he's HERE, back at the foot of the ladder!"

"Why?" demanded the girl. 

"Because the navy is a service and the consular service isn't a service. Men like Senator Hanley use it to pay their debts. While Henry's beenserving his country abroad, he's lost his friends, lost his 'pull. 'Those politicians up at Washington have no use for him. They don'tconsider that a consul like Henry can make a million dollars for hiscountrymen. He can keep them from shipping goods where there's nomarket, show them where there is a market. " The admiral snortedcontemptuously. "You don't have to tell ME the value of a good consul. But those politicians don't consider that. They only see that he hasa job worth a few hundred dollars, and they want it, and if he hasn'tother politicians to protect him, they'll take it. " The girl raised herhead. 

"Why don't you speak to the senator?" she asked. "Tell him you've knownhim for years, that----"

"Glad to do it!" exclaimed the admiral heartily. "It won't be the firsttime. But Henry mustn't know. He's too confoundedly touchy. He hates theIDEA of influence, hates men like Hanley, who abuse it. If he thoughtanything was given to him except on his merits, he wouldn't take it. "

"Then we won't tell him, " said the girl. For a moment she hesitated. 

"If I spoke to Mr. Hanley, " she asked, "told him what I learned to-nightof Mr. Marshall, would it have any effect?"

"Don't know how it will affect Hanley, " said the sailor, "but if youasked me to make anybody a consul-general, I'd make him an ambassador. "

Later in the evening Hanley and Livingstone were seated alone ondeck. The visit to Las Bocas had not proved amusing, but, much toLivingstone's relief, his honored guest was now in good-humor. He tookhis cigar from his lips, only to sip at a long cool drink. He was in amood flatteringly confidential and communicative. 

"People have the strangest idea of what I can do for them, " he laughed. It was his pose to pretend he was without authority. "They believe I'veonly to wave a wand, and get them anything they want. I thought I'd besafe from them on board a yacht. "

Livingstone, in ignorance of what was coming, squirmed apprehensively. 

"But it seems, " the senator went on, "I'm at the mercy of a conspiracy. The women folk want me to do something for this fellow Marshall. If theyhad their way, they'd send him to the Court of St. James. And old Hardy, too, tackled me about him. So did Miss Cairns. And then Marshall himselfgot me behind the wheel-house, and I thought he was going to tell me howgood he was, too! But he didn't. "

As though the joke were on himself, the senator laughed appreciatively. 

"Told me, instead, that Hardy ought to be a vice-admiral. "

Livingstone, also, laughed, with the satisfied air of one who cannot betricked. 

"They fixed it up between them, " he explained, "each was to put in agood word for the other. " He nodded eagerly. "That's what I think. "

There were moments during the cruise when Senator Hanley would havefound relief in dropping his host overboard. With mock deference, theolder man inclined his head. 

"That's what you think, is it?" he asked. "Livingstone, " he added, "youcertainly are a great judge of men!"

The next morning, old man Marshall woke with a lightness at his heartthat had been long absent. For a moment, conscious only that he washappy, he lay between sleep and waking, frowning up at his canopy ofmosquito net, trying to realize what change had come to him. Then heremembered. His old friend had returned. New friends had come into hislife and welcomed him kindly. He was no longer lonely. As eager as aboy, he ran to the window. He had not been dreaming. In the harbor laythe pretty yacht, the stately, white-hulled war-ship. The flag thatdrooped from the stern of each caused his throat to tighten, broughtwarm tears to his eyes, fresh resolve to his discouraged, troubledspirit. When he knelt beside his bed, his heart poured out his thanks ingratitude and gladness. 

While he was dressing, a blue-jacket brought a note from the admiral. It invited him to tea on board the war-ship, with the guests of theSERAPIS. His old friend added that he was coming to lunch with hisconsul, and wanted time reserved for a long talk. The consul agreedgladly. He was in holiday humor. The day promised to repeat the goodmoments of the night previous. 

At nine o'clock, through the open door of the consulate, Marshall sawAiken, the wireless operator, signaling from the wharf excitedly tothe yacht, and a boat leave the ship and return. Almost immediately thelaunch, carrying several passengers, again made the trip shoreward. 

Half an hour later, Senator Hanley, Miss Cairns, and Livingstone cameup the waterfront, and entering the consulate, seated themselves aroundMarshall's desk. Livingstone was sunk in melancholy. The senator, on the contrary, was smiling broadly. His manner was one of distinctrelief. He greeted the consul with hearty good-humor. 

"I'm ordered home!" he announced gleefully. Then, remembering thepresence of Livingstone, he hastened to add: "I needn't say how sorry Iam to give up my yachting trip, but orders are orders. The President, "he explained to Marshall, "cables me this morning to come back andtake my coat off. " The prospect, as a change from playing bridge on apleasure boat, seemed far from depressing him. 

"Those filibusters in the Senate, " he continued genially, "are makingtrouble again. They think they've got me out of the way for anothermonth, but they'll find they're wrong. When that bill comes up, they'llfind me at the old stand and ready for business!" Marshall did notattempt to conceal his personal disappointment. 

"I am so sorry you are leaving, " he said; "selfishly sorry, I mean. I'dhoped you all would be here for several days. " He looked inquiringlytoward Livingstone. 

"I understood the SERAPIS was disabled, " he explained. 

"She is, " answered Hanley. "So's the RALEIGH. At a pinch, the admiralmight have stretched the regulations and carried me to Jamaica, butthe RALEIGH's engines are knocked about too. I've GOT to reach KingstonThursday. The German boat leaves there Thursday for New York. At firstit looked as though I couldn't do it, but we find that the Royal Mailis due to-day, and she can get to Kingston Wednesday night. It's a greatpiece of luck. I wouldn't bother you with my troubles, " the senatorexplained pleasantly, "but the agent of the Royal Mail here won't sellme a ticket until you've put your seal to this. " He extended a piece ofprinted paper. 

As Hanley had been talking, the face of the consul had grown grave. Heaccepted the paper, but did not look at it. Instead, he regarded thesenator with troubled eyes. When he spoke, his tone was one of genuineconcern. 

"It is most unfortunate, " he said. "But I am afraid the ROYAL MAIL willnot take you on board. Because of Las Bocas, " he explained. "If we hadonly known!" he added remorsefully. "It is MOST unfortunate. "

"Because of Las Bocas?" echoed Hanley. 

"You don't mean they'll refuse to take me to Jamaica because I spenthalf an hour at the end of a wharf listening to a squeaky gramophone?"

"The trouble, " explained Marshall, "is this: if they carried you, allthe other passengers would be held in quarantine for ten days, and thereare fines to pay, and there would be difficulties over the mails. But, "he added hopefully, "maybe the regulations have been altered. I will seeher captain, and tell him----"

"See her captain!" objected Hanley. "Why see the captain? He doesn'tknow I've been to that place. Why tell him? All I need is a clean billof health from you. That's all HE wants. You have only to sign thatpaper. " Marshall regarded the senator with surprise. 

"But I can't, " he said. 

"You can't? Why not?"

"Because it certifies to the fact that you have not visited Las Bocas. Unfortunately, you have visited Las Bocas. "

The senator had been walking up and down the room. Now he seatedhimself, and stared at Marshall curiously. 

"It's like this, Mr. Marshall, " he began quietly. "The President desiresmy presence in Washington, thinks I can be of some use to him there inhelping carry out certain party measures--measures to which he pledgedhimself before his election. Down here, a British steamship line haslaid down local rules which, in my case anyway, are ridiculous. Thequestion is, are you going to be bound by the red tape of a ha'pennyBritish colony, or by your oath to the President of the United States?"

The sophistry amused Marshall. He smiled good-naturedly and shook hishead. 

"I'm afraid, Senator, " he said, "that way of putting it is hardlyfair. Unfortunately, the question is one of fact. I will explain to thecaptain----"

"You will explain nothing to the captain!" interrupted Hanley. "Thisis a matter which concerns no one but our two selves. I am not askingfavors of steamboat captains. I am asking an American consul to assistan American citizen in trouble, and, " he added, with heavy sarcasm, "incidentally, to carry out the wishes of his President. "

Marshall regarded the senator with an expression of both surprise anddisbelief. 

"Are you asking me to put my name to what is not so?" he said. "Are youserious?"

"That paper, Mr. Marshall, " returned Hanley steadily, "is a mere form, a piece of red tape. There's no more danger of my carrying the plague toJamaica than of my carrying a dynamite bomb. You KNOW that. "

"I DO know that, " assented Marshall heartily. "I appreciate yourposition, and I regret it exceedingly. You are the innocent victim of aregulation which is a wise regulation, but which is most unfair to you. My own position, " he added, "is not important, but you can believe me, it is not easy. It is certainly no pleasure for me to be unable to helpyou. "

Hanley was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes watchingMarshall closely. "Then you refuse?" he said. "Why?"

Marshall regarded the senator steadily. His manner was untroubled. Thelook he turned upon Hanley was one of grave disapproval. 

"You know why, " he answered quietly. "It is impossible. "

In sudden anger Hanley rose. Marshall, who had been seated behind hisdesk, also rose. For a moment, in silence, the two men confronted eachother. Then Hanley spoke; his tone was harsh and threatening. 

"Then I am to understand, " he exclaimed, "that you refuse to carry outthe wishes of a United States Senator and of the President of the UnitedStates?"

In front of Marshall, on his desk, was the little iron stamp of theconsulate. Protectingly, almost caressingly, he laid his hand upon it. 

"I refuse, " he corrected, "to place the seal of this consulate on alie. "

There was a moment's pause. Miss Cairns, unwilling to remain, andunable to withdraw, clasped her hands unhappily and stared at the floor. Livingstone exclaimed in indignant protest. Hanley moved a step nearerand, to emphasize what he said, tapped his knuckles on the desk. Withthe air of one confident of his advantage, he spoke slowly and softly. 

"Do you appreciate, " he asked, "that, while you may be of someimportance down here in this fever swamp, in Washington I am supposedto carry some weight? Do you appreciate that I am a senator from a Statethat numbers four millions of people, and that you are preventing mefrom serving those people?"

Marshall inclined his head gravely and politely. 

"And I want you to appreciate, " he said, "that while I have no weightat Washington, in this fever swamp I have the honor to represent eightymillions of people, and as long as that consular sign is over my doorI don't intend to prostitute it for YOU, or the President of the UnitedStates, or any one of those eighty millions. "

Of the two men, the first to lower his eyes was Hanley. He laughedshortly, and walked to the door. There he turned, and indifferently, asthough the incident no longer interested him, drew out his watch. 

"Mr. Marshall, " he said, "if the cable is working, I'll take your tinsign away from you by sunset. "

For one of Marshall's traditions, to such a speech there was no answersave silence. He bowed, and, apparently serene and undismayed, resumedhis seat. From the contest, judging from the manner of each, it wasMarshall, not Hanley, who had emerged victorious. 

But Miss Cairns was not deceived. Under the unexpected blow, Marshallhad turned older. His clear blue eyes had grown less alert, his broadshoulders seemed to stoop. In sympathy, her own eyes filled with suddentears. 

"What will you do?" she whispered. 

"I don't know what I shall do, " said Marshall simply. "I should haveliked to have resigned. It's a prettier finish. After forty years--to bedismissed by cable is--it's a poor way of ending it. "

Miss Cairns rose and walked to the door. There she turned and lookedback. 

"I am sorry, " she said. And both understood that in saying no more thanthat she had best shown her sympathy. 

An hour later the sympathy of Admiral Hardy was expressed more directly. 

"If he comes on board my ship, " roared that gentleman, "I'll push himdown an ammunition hoist and break his damned neck!"

Marshall laughed delightedly. The loyalty of his old friend was never sowelcome. 

"You'll treat him with every courtesy, " he said. "The only satisfactionhe gets out of this is to see that he has hurt me. We will not give himthat satisfaction. "

But Marshall found that to conceal his wound was more difficult thanhe had anticipated. When, at tea time, on the deck of the war-ship, heagain met Senator Hanley and the guests of the SERAPIS, he could notforget that his career had come to an end. There was much to remindhim that this was so. He was made aware of it by the sad, sympatheticglances of the women; by their tactful courtesies; by the fact thatLivingstone, anxious to propitiate Hanley, treated him rudely; by thesight of the young officers, each just starting upon a career of honor, and possible glory, as his career ended in humiliation; and by the bigwar-ship herself, that recalled certain crises when he had only to pressa button and war-ships had come at his bidding. 

At five o'clock there was an awkward moment. The Royal Mail boat, havingtaken on her cargo, passed out of the harbor on her way to Jamaica, anddipped her colors. Senator Hanley, abandoned to his fate, observed herdeparture in silence. 

Livingstone, hovering at his side, asked sympathetically: "Have theyanswered your cable, sir?" "They have, " said Hanley gruffly. 

"Was it--was it satisfactory?" pursued the diplomat. "It WAS, " said thesenator, with emphasis. 

Far from discouraged, Livingstone continued his inquiries. 

"And when, " he asked eagerly, "are you going to tell him?"

"Now!" said the senator. 

The guests were leaving the ship. When all were seated in the admiral'ssteam launch, the admiral descended the accommodation ladder and himselfpicked up the tiller ropes. 

"Mr. Marshall, " he called, "when I bring the launch broadside to theship and stop her, you will stand ready to receive the consul's salute. "

Involuntarily, Marshall uttered an exclamation of protest. He hadforgotten that on leaving the war-ship, as consul, he was entitled toseven guns. Had he remembered, he would have insisted that the ceremonybe omitted. He knew that the admiral wished to show his loyalty, knewthat his old friend was now paying him this honor only as a rebuke toHanley. But the ceremony was no longer an honor. Hanley had made of it amockery. It served only to emphasize what had been taken from him. But, without a scene, it now was too late to avoid it. The first of the sevenguns had roared from the bow, and, as often he had stood before, asnever he would so stand again, Marshall took his place at the gangwayof the launch. His eyes were fixed on the flag, his gray head wasuncovered, his hat was pressed above his heart. 

For the first time since Hanley had left the consulate, he fell intosudden terror lest he might give way to his emotions. Indignant at thethought, he held himself erect. His face was set like a mask, his eyeswere untroubled. He was determined they should not see that he wassuffering. 

Another gun spat out a burst of white smoke, a stab of flame. There wasan echoing roar. Another and another followed. Marshall counted seven, and then, with a bow to the admiral, backed from the gangway. 

And then another gun shattered the hot, heavy silence. Marshall, confused, embarrassed, assuming he had counted wrong, hastily returnedto his place. But again before he could leave it, in savage haste aninth gun roared out its greeting. He could not still be mistaken. Heturned appealingly to his friend. The eyes of the admiral were fixedupon the war-ship. Again a gun shattered the silence. Was it a jest?Were they laughing at him? Marshall flushed miserably. He gave a swiftglance toward the others. They were smiling. Then it was a jest. Behindhis back, something of which they all were cognizant was going forward. The face of Livingstone alone betrayed a like bewilderment to his own. But the others, who knew, were mocking him. 

For the thirteenth time a gun shook the brooding swamp land of PortoBanos. And then, and not until then, did the flag crawl slowly from themast-head. Mary Cairns broke the tenseness by bursting into tears. ButMarshall saw that every one else, save she and Livingstone, were stillsmiling. Even the bluejackets in charge of the launch were grinningat him. He was beset by smiling faces. And then from the war-ship, unchecked, came, against all regulations, three long, splendid cheers. 

Marshall felt his lips quivering, the warm tears forcing their way tohis eyes. He turned beseechingly to his friend. His voice trembled. 

"Charles, " he begged, "are they laughing at me?"

Eagerly, before the other would answer, Senator Hanley tossed his cigarinto the water and, scrambling forward, seized Marshall by the hand. 

"Mr. Marshall, " he cried, "our President has great faith in AbrahamLincoln's judgment of men. And this salute means that this morninghe appointed you our new minister to The Hague. I'm one of thosepoliticians who keeps his word. I TOLD YOU I'd take your tin sign awayfrom you by sunset. I've done it!"