CHAPTER X
I had flung my much-maligned blazer into a corner, and now I slipped on an ordinary tweed coat. I found the deck empty with the exception of Miss Stretton, who was walking up and down in the moonlight, as she had done the night before, but this time she came forward with a sweet smile on her lips, extending her hand to me as if we had been old friends long parted. There was something very grateful to me in this welcome, as I was beginning to look upon myself as a pariah unfit for human companionship. Indeed, I had been bitterly meditating on striking into the Corean wilderness and living hereafter as one of the natives, about the lowest ambition that ever actuated the mind of man.
“Have you sentenced yourself to solitary imprisonment, Mr. Tremorne?”
“Yes. Don’t you think I deserve it?”
“Frankly, I don’t; but as you did not appear at either luncheon or dinner, and as the Japanese boy who brought my coffee up here told me you were keeping to your room, I thought it as well to send for you, and I hope you are not offended at having your meditation broken in upon. Prisoners, you know, are allowed to walk for a certain time each day in the courtyard. I do wish I had a ball and chain for your ankles, but we are on board ship, and cannot expect all the luxuries of civilization.”
Her raillery cheered me more than I can say.
“Miss Stretton, it is more than good of you to receive an outcast in this generous manner.”
“An outcast? Please don’t talk rubbish, Mr. Tremorne! Somehow I had taken you for a sensible person, and now all my ideas about you are shattered.”
“I don’t wonder at it,” I said despondently.
“Yes, I know you are in the Slough of Despond, and I am trying to pull you out of it. When I remember that men have ruled great empires, carried on important wars, subdued the wilderness, conquered the ocean, girdled the earth with iron, I declare I wonder where their brains depart to when they are confronted with silly, whimpering, designing women.”
“But still, Miss Stretton, to come from the general to the particular, a man has no right to ill-treat a woman.”
“I quite agree with you; but, as you say, to come to this particular incident which is in both our minds, do you actually believe that there was ill-treatment? Don’t you know in your own soul that if the girl had received treatment like that long ago she would not now be a curse to herself and to all who are condemned to live within her radius?”
“Yet I cannot conceal from myself that it was none of my business. Her father was present, and her correction was his affair.”
“Her correction was any one’s affair that had the courage to undertake it. What had you seen? You had seen her strike me, and thrust me from her as if I were a leper. Then you saw this girl with the temper of the – the temper of the – oh, help me – ”
“Temper of the devil,” I responded promptly.
“Thank you! You saw her take up a deadly weapon, and if she has not murdered one of the three of us, we have to thank, not her, but the mercy of God. You did exactly the right thing, and the only thing, and actually she would have admired you for it had it not been that you came down to her door and prostrated yourself for her to trample over you.”
“Good heavens, Miss Stretton! were you inside that room?”
“It doesn’t matter whether I was or not. I know that she twisted you around her little finger, and took her revenge in the only way that was possible for her.”
“Ah, but you don’t know the depth of my degradation. She showed me her wrists, marked by the fingers of a savage, and that savage was myself.”
“Pooh! pooh! pooh!” cried Miss Stretton, laughing. “Do you think those marks indicate pain? Not a bit of it. Your grasp of her wrists did not injure her in the least, and, short of putting handcuffs on them, was the only method at your disposal to prevent her perhaps killing her father, a man worth a million such as she, and yet neither he nor you have the sense to see it. I can inform you that Miss Gertrude’s arm is sore to-night, but not where you clasped it. She hurt herself more than she injured me when she struck me. Look at this,” – and she drew back her sleeve, disclosing a wrist as pretty as that of Miss Hemster, notwithstanding the fact that one part was both bruised and swollen. “That is where I caught her blow, and can assure you it was given with great force and directness. So, Mr. Tremorne, if you have any sympathy to expend, please let me have the benefit of it, and I will bestow my sympathy upon you in return.”
“Indeed, Miss Stretton, I am very sorry to see that you are hurt. I hoped you had warded off the blow slantingly, instead of getting it square on the arm like that.”
“Oh, it is nothing,” said the girl carelessly, drawing down her sleeve again, “it is merely an exhibit, as they say in the courts, to win the sympathy of a man, and it doesn’t hurt now in the least, unless I strike it against something. I ask you to believe that I would never have said a word about the girl to you if you had not seen for yourself what those near her have to put up with. You will understand, Mr. Tremorne, I am but a poor benighted woman who has had no one to talk to for months and months. I cannot unburden my soul to Mr. Hemster, because I like him too well; and if I talk to the captain he will merely laugh at me, and tell funny stories. There is no one but you; so you see, unfortunate man, you are the victim of two women.”
“I like being the victim of one of them,” said I; “but am I to infer from what you have said that, as you don’t speak to Mr. Hemster because you like him, you speak to me because you dislike me?”
“What a far-fetched conclusion!” she laughed. “Certainly not. I like you very much indeed, and even admired you until you used the word ‘abjectly’ down in that passage. That is a word I detest; no one should employ it when referring to himself.”
“Then you were in Miss Hemster’s room after all.”
“I have not said so, and I refuse to admit it. That is hereafter to be a forbidden topic, and a redeemed prisoner in charge of his gaoler must not disobey orders. If it were not for me, you would now be in your room moping and meditating on your wickedness. I have wrestled with you as if I were a Salvation lass, and so you should be grateful.”
“Never was a man wallowing in despondency more grateful for the helping hand of a woman enabling him to emerge.”
“It is very generous of you to say that, when it was the helping hand of a woman that pushed you into it.”
“No, it was my own action that sent me there. I doubt if a man ever gets into the Slough of Despond through the efforts of any one else. A lone man blunders blindly along, and the first thing he knows he is head over ears in the mud, – and serve him right, too.”
“Why serve him right?”
“Because he has no business being a lone man. Two heads are better than one; then, if one is making for the ditch, the helping hand of the other restrains.”
“Since when did you arrive at so desperate a conclusion, Mr. Tremorne?”
“Since I met you.”
“Well, it is a blessing there was no one to restrain you to-day, or otherwise somebody might have been shot. There is something to be said for lack of restraint upon occasion.”
“Miss Stretton, if I had had a sensible woman to advise me, I am certain I would never have lost my money.”
“Was it a large amount?”
“It was a fortune.”
“How one lives and learns! I have often heard that women squander fortunes, but never yet that a woman helped to preserve one.”
“It is better for a man’s wife to squander a fortune than to allow a stranger to do it.”
“Oh, I am not so sure. The end seems to be the same in both cases. I suppose you have in your mind the woman who would have given you good advice at the proper time.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Then why don’t you ask her now, or is it too late?”
“I don’t know that she would have anything to do with me; however, it is very easy to find out. Miss Stretton, will you marry me? I have nothing particular to offer you except myself, but I think I’ve reached the lowest ebb of my fortunes, and any change must be toward improvement.”
“Good gracious, is this actually a proposal?”
“If you will be so generous as to regard it as such.”
The young lady stopped in her promenade, and leaned back against the rail, looking me squarely in the face. Then she laughed with greater heartiness than I had yet heard her do.
“This is most interesting,” she said at last, “and really most amazing. Why, you must have known me for nearly two hours! I assure you I did not lend you a helping hand out of the Slough of Despond to imprison you at once in the Castle Despair of a penniless marriage. Besides, I always thought a proposal came after a long and somewhat sentimental camaraderie, which goes under the name of courtship. However, this explains what I have so often marvelled at in the English papers; a phrase that struck me as strange and unusual: ‘A marriage has been arranged and will take place between So-and-So and So-and-So.’ Such a proposal as you have just made is surely an arrangement rather than a love affair. Indeed, you have said nothing about love at all, and so probably such a passion does not enter into the amalgamation. If you were not so serious I should have thought you were laughing at me.”
“On the contrary, madam, I am very much in earnest, and it is you who are laughing at me.”
“Don’t you think I’ve a very good right to do so? Why, we are hardly even acquainted, and I have no idea what your Christian name is, as I suppose you have no idea what mine is.”
“Oh, Hilda, I know your name perfectly!”
“I see you do, and make use of it as well, which certainly advances us another step. But the other half of my proposition is true, and I remain in ignorance of yours.”
“When unconsciously I went through the ceremony of christening, I believe my godfathers and godmothers presented me with the name of Rupert.”
“What a long time you take in the telling of it. Wasn’t there a Prince Rupert once? It seems to me I’ve heard the phrase ‘the Rupert of debate,’ and the Rupert of this, and the Rupert of that, so he seems to be a very dashing fellow.”
“He was. He dashed into misfortune, as I have often done, but there all likeness between us ends.”
“It seems to me the likeness remains, because the present Rupert is dashing into the misfortune of a very heedless proposal. But do not fear that I shall take advantage of your recklessness, which is the more dangerous when you remember my situation. I sometimes think I would almost marry the Prince of Darkness to get out of the position I hold, for I am told he is a gentleman, who probably keeps his temper, and I am coming to the belief that a good temper is a jewel beyond price. However, I’m exaggerating again. I do not really need to stay here unless I wish it, and I remain for the sake of Mr. Hemster, who, as I told you last night, has always been very kind to me, and for whom I have a great respect and liking. Besides, I am not nearly so helpless as perhaps you may imagine. If I went home I could make a very good living teaching music in the States. So you see I do not need to accept the Prince of Darkness should he offer his hand.”
“You mean, when he has offered his hand?”
She laughed at this, and went on merrily:
“No, ‘if;’ not ‘when.’ I shall always cherish the proposal of Prince Rupert, and when the Prince of Darkness makes advances I shall probably tell him that he is not the first Highness so to honour me. When the sunlight comes to take the place of the moonlight, we shall laugh together over this – I can’t call it sentimental episode, shall we term it, business arrangement? Now, would you mind accepting a little advice on the subject of matrimony?”
“I’ll accept your advice if you’ll accept me. Turn about is fair play, you know. Let us finish one transaction before we begin another.”
“Transaction is a charming word, Mr. Tremorne, nearly as good as arrangement; I am not sure but it is better. I thought the transaction was finished. You are respectfully declined, with thanks, but, as I assured you, I shall always cherish the memory of this evening, and, now that the way is clear, may I tender this advice, which I have been yearning for some hours to give you. You won’t reply. Well, on the whole I think your attitude is very correct. You could hardly be expected to jump joyously from one transaction to another, and I really feel very much flattered that you have put on that dejected look and attitude, which becomes you very much indeed and almost makes me think that the precipitancy of my refusal equals the headlong impetuosity of your avowal. A wiser woman would have asked time for consideration.”
“Pray take the time, Miss Stretton; it is not yet too late.”
“Yes, it is. What is done, is done, and now comes my advice. You said two heads are better than one. That is true generally, but not always, so I shall present you with an aphorism in place of it, which is that two purses are better than one, if either contains anything. If one purse is always empty, and the other is bursting full, the truth of my adage cannot be questioned. I surmise that your purse and mine are almost on an equality, but I can assure you that Miss Hemster’s portemonnaie is full to repletion.”
“That has nothing to do with me,” I answered curtly.
“Oh, but it may have, and much. I noticed when you came down to luncheon yesterday that you are very deeply in love with Miss Hemster.”
“My dear Miss Hilda, – I claim the right to call you that, – when one remembers that you never took your eyes from your plate at luncheon I must say that you have most extraordinary powers of observation. You thought I was high and mighty toward Mr. Hemster, which was not the case, and now you assert that I was in love with Miss Hemster, which is equally beside the fact.”
“Of course you are bound to say that, and I may add that although I am offering you advice I am not asking confidences in exchange. I assert that you fell in love with Miss Hemster during your charming ramble through Nagasaki; falling in love with a haste which seems to be characteristic of you, and which totally changes the ideas I had previously held regarding an Englishman.”
“Yes, a number of your notions concerning the men of my country were entirely erroneous, as I took the liberty of pointing out to you last night.”
“So you did, but actions speak louder than words, and I form my conclusions from your actions. Very well, propose to Miss Hemster; I believe she would accept you, and I further believe that you would prove the salvation of the girl. Her father would make no objection, for I see he already likes you; but in any case he would offer no opposition to anything that his daughter proposed. His life is devoted, poor man, to ministering to her whims and caprices, so you are certain of the parental blessing, and that would carry with it, as I have pointed out, the full purse.”
“You spoke of the Prince of Darkness just now, Miss Stretton, so I will appropriate your simile and say that if there were an unmarried Princess of Darkness I would sooner try my luck with her than with Miss Hemster.”
“Oh, nonsense! Miss Hemster is a good-hearted girl if only she’d been rightly trained. You would tame her. I know no man so fitted to be the modern Petruchio, and I am fond enough of the drama to say I would like to see a modern rendering of ‘The Taming of the Shrew.”
“She’ll never be tamed by me, Miss Stretton.”
“She has been, Mr. Tremorne, only you spoiled your lesson by your apology. You must not make a mistake like that again. If you had stood your ground, preserving a distant and haughty demeanour, with a frown on your noble brow, pretty Miss Gertrude would soon have come around to you, wheedling, flattering, and most exquisitely charming, as she well knows how to be. You could then have caught her on the rebound, as the novels put it, just, in fact, as I have managed to catch you to-night. You will be very thankful in the morning that I refused to retain my advantage.”
“I shall never be thankful for that, Miss Hilda, and it is equally certain that I shall never propose to Miss Hemster. If I were a speculative adventurer I’d venture to wager on it.”
“Most men who see her, propose to her; therefore you must not imagine that Gertrude has not been sought after. I should not be at all certain of your success were it not that every man she has hitherto met has flattered her, while you have merely left the marks of your fingers on her wrists and have threatened to box her ears. This gives you a tremendous advantage if you only know how to use it. I have read somewhere that there is a law in Britain which allows a husband to punish his wife with a stick no bigger than his little finger. I therefore advise you to marry the girl, take something out of the full purse and buy back the ancestral acres, then go into the forest and select a switch as large as the law allows. After that, the new comedy of ‘The Taming of the Shrew,’ with the married pair living happily ever afterward. You should prove the most fortunate of men, in that you will possess the prettiest, richest, and most docile wife in all your island.”
“I am not a barrister, Miss Stretton, therefore can neither affirm nor deny the truth you have stated regarding the law of the stick. If, however, a belief in that enactment has led you to reject my proposal, I beg to inform you that I have no ancestral acres containing a forest; therefore I cannot possess myself of a twig of the requisite size without trespassing on some one else’s timber. So you see you need have no fear on that score.”
“I am not so sure,” replied Hilda, shaking her pretty head, “I imagine there must be a Wife-Beaters’ Supply Company in London somewhere, which furnishes the brutal Britisher at lowest rates with the correct legal apparatus for matrimonial correction. I tremble to think of the scenes that must have been enacted in the numerous strong castles of Britain which have had new copper roofs put on with the money brought over by American brides. Girls, obstreperous and untrained, but wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, have gone across, scorning the honest straightforward American man, who in my opinion is the most sincere gentleman of all the world. These rich but bad-tempered jades have disappeared within the castle, and the portcullis has come down. Have we ever heard a whimper from any one of them? Not a whisper even. If they had married American men there would have been tremendous rows, ending with divorce cases; but not so when they have disappeared into the castle. You never hear of an American woman divorcing a lord, and Lord knows some of those lords are the riff-raff of creation. History gives us grim pictures of tragical scenes in those old strongholds, but I shudder to think of the tragedies which must occur nowadays when once the drawbridge is up, and the American girl, hitherto adored, learns the law regarding flagellation. The punishment must be exceedingly complete, for the lady emerges cowed and subdued as the Kate that Shakespeare wrote about. And how well that great man understood a wilful and tyrannical woman! Oh, you needn’t look shocked, Mr. Tremorne. Haven’t you an adage on that benighted island which says ‘A woman, a dog, and a walnut-tree; the more you beat them the better they be?’”
“Great heavens, girl, what an imagination you have! You should really write a novel. It would be an interesting contribution toward international love affairs.”
“I may do so, some day, if music-teaching fails. I should like, however, to have the confession of one of the victims of an international matrimonial match.”
“Which victim? The English husband or the American wife?”
“The wife, of course. I think I shall wait until you and Miss Hemster are married a year or two, and then perhaps she will look more kindly on me than she does at present, and so may tell me enough to lend local colour to my book.”
“I can give you a much better plan than that, Miss Stretton. Hearsay evidence, you know, is never admitted in courts of law, and by the same token it amounts to very little in books. I am given to understand that, to be successful, an author must have lived through the events of which he writes, so your best plan is to accept my offer; then we will purchase a moated grange in England, and you can depict its horrors from the depths of experience.”
“Where are we to get the money for the moated grange? I haven’t any, and you’ve just acknowledged that you are penniless.”
“I forgot that. Still, moated granges are always going cheap. They are damp as a general rule, and not much sought after. We could possibly buy one on the instalment plan, or even rent it if it came to that.”
Miss Stretton laughed joyously at the idea, held out her hand, and bade me a cordial good-night.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Tremorne for a most interesting evening, and also for the proposal. I think it very kind of you, for I suppose you suspect I haven’t had very many. I think we’ve each helped the other out of the Slough of Despond. So good-night, good-night!”