Part 4 (2/2)

”Do you remember that time in Tangier,” the admiral urged, ”when I was a mids.h.i.+pman, 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 visit to the KEARSARGE at Ma.r.s.eilles in '65--George Dewey was our second officer--and you were bowing and backing away from her, and you backed into an open hatch, and she said 'my French isn't up to it' what was it she 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 the service then, Mr. Marshall?”

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

”He was our consul-general at Ma.r.s.eilles!”

There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination could not escape the contrast, could see in their mind's eye the great harbor of Ma.r.s.eilles, crowded with the s.h.i.+pping of the world, surrounding it the beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north, and on the battles.h.i.+p the young consul-general making his bow to the young Empress of Song. And now, before their actual eyes, they saw the village of Porto Banos, a black streak in the night, a row of mud shacks, at the end 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 he here? Why don't they give him a place worthy of him? I've seen many of our representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste men like that.” The girl exclaimed indignantly: ”He's one of the most interesting 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 his work, that he's a diplomat, born, trained, that he's----” The admiral interrupted with a growl.

”You don't have to tell ME about Henry,” he protested. ”I've known Henry twenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts,” he exclaimed hotly, ”he wouldn'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 sent him to Morocco as consul, he signed my commission as a mids.h.i.+pman.

Now I'm an admiral. Henry has twice my brains and he's been a consul-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 been serving his country abroad, he's lost his friends, lost his 'pull.'

Those politicians up at Was.h.i.+ngton have no use for him. They don't consider that a consul like Henry can make a million dollars for his countrymen. He can keep them from s.h.i.+pping goods where there's no market, show them where there is a market.” The admiral snorted contemptuously. ”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 has a job worth a few hundred dollars, and they want it, and if he hasn't other politicians to protect him, they'll take it.” The girl raised her head.

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

”Glad to do it!” exclaimed the admiral heartily. ”It won't be the first time. But Henry mustn't know. He's too confoundedly touchy. He hates the IDEA of influence, hates men like Hanley, who abuse it. If he thought anything 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-night of Mr. Marshall, would it have any effect?”

”Don't know how it will affect Hanley,” said the sailor, ”but if you asked me to make anybody a consul-general, I'd make him an amba.s.sador.”

Later in the evening Hanley and Livingstone were seated alone on deck. The visit to Las Bocas had not proved amusing, but, much to Livingstone's relief, his honored guest was now in good-humor. He took his cigar from his lips, only to sip at a long cool drink. He was in a mood 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've only to wave a wand, and get them anything they want. I thought I'd be safe from them on board a yacht.”

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