<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_III"></SPAN>CHAPTER III</h2></div>
<p class="drop-cap a"><span class="smcap1">A stairway</span> was slung on the other side of the
yacht from that on which I had ascended,
and at its foot lay a large and comfortable
boat belonging to the yacht, manned by four stout seamen.
Down this stairway and into the boat I escorted
Miss Hemster. She seated herself in the stern and
took the tiller-ropes in her hands, now daintily gloved.
I sat down opposite to her and was about to give a
command to the men to give way when she forestalled
me, and the oars struck the water simultaneously. As
soon as we had rounded the bow of the yacht there
was a sudden outcry from a half-naked Japanese boy
who was sculling about in a sampan.</p>
<p>“What’s the matter with him?” asked Miss Hemster
with a little laugh. “Does he think we’re going
to desert this boat and take that floating coffin of his?”</p>
<p>“I think it is my own man,” I said; “and he fears
that his fare is leaving him without settling up. Have
I your permission to stop these men till he comes alongside?
He has been waiting patiently for me while I
talked with Mr. Hemster.”</p>
<p>“Why, certainly,” said the girl, and in obedience to
her order the crew held water, and as the boy came
alongside I handed him more than double what I owed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26">26</SPAN></span>
him, and he nearly upset his craft by bowing in amazed
acknowledgment.</p>
<p>“You’re an Englishman, I suppose,” said Miss
Hemster.</p>
<p>“In a sort of way I am, but really a citizen of the
world. For many years past I have been less in England
than in other countries.”</p>
<p>“For many years? Why, you talk as if you were an
old man, and you don’t look a day more than thirty.”</p>
<p>“My looks do not libel me, Miss Hemster,” I replied
with a laugh, “for I am not yet thirty.”</p>
<p>“I am twenty-one,” she said carelessly, “but every
one says I don’t look more than seventeen.”</p>
<p>“I thought you were younger than seventeen,” said
I, “when I first saw you a moment ago.”</p>
<p>“Did you really? I think it is very flattering of you
to say so, and I hope you mean it.”</p>
<p>“I do, indeed, Miss Hemster.”</p>
<p>“Do you think I look younger than Hilda?” she
asked archly, “most people do.”</p>
<p>“Hilda!” said I. “What Hilda?”</p>
<p>“Why, Hilda Stretton, my companion.”</p>
<p>“I have never seen her.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, you did; she was standing at the companion-way
and was coming with me when I preferred
to come with you.”</p>
<p>“I did not see her,” I said, shaking my head; “I
saw no one but you.”</p>
<p>The young lady laughed merrily,—a melodious ripple
of sound. I have heard women’s laughter compared
to the tinkle of silver bells, but to that musical<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27">27</SPAN></span>
tintinnabulation was now added something so deliciously
human and girlish that the whole effect was
nothing short of enchanting. Conversation now ceased,
for we were drawing close to the shore. I directed the
crew where to land, and the young lady sprang up the
steps without assistance from me,—before, indeed, I
could proffer any. I was about to follow when one
of the sailors touched me on the shoulder.</p>
<p>“The old man,” he said in a husky whisper, nodding
his head toward the yacht, “told me to tell you
that when you buy that crockery you’re not to let Miss
Hemster know anything about it.”</p>
<p>“Aren’t you coming?” cried Miss Hemster to me
from the top of the wharf.</p>
<p>I ascended the steps with celerity and begged her
pardon for my delay.</p>
<p>“I am not sprightly seventeen, you see,” I said.</p>
<p>She laughed, and I put her in a ’rickshaw drawn by
a stalwart Japanese, got into one myself, and we set
off for the main shopping street. I was rather at a
loss to know exactly what the sailor’s message meant,
but I took it to be that for some reason Mr. Hemster
did not wish his daughter to learn that he was indulging
so freely in dinner sets. As it was already three
o’clock in the afternoon, I realized that there would be
some difficulty in getting the goods aboard by five
o’clock, unless the young lady dismissed me when we
arrived at the shops. This, however, did not appear
to be her intention in the least; when our human steeds
stopped, she gave me her hand lightly as she
descended, and then said, with her captivating smile:</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28">28</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“I want you to take me at once to a china shop.”</p>
<p>“To a what?” I cried.</p>
<p>“To a shop where they sell dishes,—dinner sets and
that sort of thing. You know what I mean,—a crockery
store.”</p>
<p>I did, but I was so astonished by the request coming
right on the heels of the message from her father, and
taken in conjunction with his previous order, that I
am afraid I stood looking very much like a fool,
whereupon she laughed heartily, and I joined her. I
saw she was quite a merry young lady, with a keen
sense of the humour of things.</p>
<p>“Haven’t they any crockery stores in this town?”
she asked.</p>
<p>“Oh, there are plenty of them,” I replied.</p>
<p>“Why, you look as if you had never heard of such a
thing before. Take me, then, to whichever is the best.
I want to buy a dinner set and a tea set the very first
thing.”</p>
<p>I bowed, and, somewhat to my embarrassment, she
took my arm, tripping along by my side as if she were
a little girl of ten, overjoyed at her outing, to which
feeling she gave immediate expression.</p>
<p>“Isn’t this jolly?” she cried.</p>
<p>“It is the most undeniably jolly shopping excursion
I ever engaged in,” said I, fervently and truthfully.</p>
<p>“You see,” she went on, “the delight of this sort of
thing is that we are in an utterly foreign country and
can do just as we please. That is why I did not wish
Hilda to come with us. She is rather prim and has
notions of propriety which are all right at home, but<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29">29</SPAN></span>
what is the use of coming to foreign countries if you
cannot enjoy them as you wish to?”</p>
<p>“I think that is a very sensible idea,” said I.</p>
<p>“Why, it seems as if you and I were members of a
travelling theatrical company, and were taking part in
‘The Mikado,’ doesn’t it? What funny little people
they are all around us! Nagasaki doesn’t seem real.
It looks as if it were set on a stage,—don’t you think
so?”</p>
<p>“Well, you know, I am rather accustomed to it.
I have lived here for more than a year, as I told
you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you said. I have not got used to it yet.
Have you ever seen ‘The Mikado?’”</p>
<p>“Do you mean the Emperor or the play?”</p>
<p>“At the moment I was thinking of the play.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I have seen it, and the real Mikado, too, and
spoken with him.”</p>
<p>“Have you, indeed? How lucky you are!”</p>
<p>“You speak truly, Miss Hemster, and I never knew
how lucky I was until to-day.”</p>
<p>She bent her head and laughed quietly to herself. I
thought we were more like a couple of school children
than members of a theatrical troupe, but as I never was
an actor I cannot say how the latter behave when they
are on the streets of a strange town.</p>
<p>“Oh, I have met your kind of man before, Mr. Tremorne.
You don’t mind what you say when you are
talking to a lady as long as it is something flattering.”</p>
<p>“I assure you, Miss Hemster, that quite the contrary<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30">30</SPAN></span>
is the case. I never flatter; and if I have been
using a congratulatory tone it has been directed entirely
to myself and to my own good fortune.”</p>
<p>“There you go again. How did you come to meet
the Mikado?”</p>
<p>“I used to be in the diplomatic service in Japan, and
my duties on several occasions brought me the honor
of an audience with His Majesty.”</p>
<p>“How charmingly you say that, and I can see that
you believe it from your heart; and although we are
democratic, I believe it, too. I always love diplomatic
society, and enjoyed a good deal of it in Washington,
and my imagination always pictured behind them the
majesty of royalty, so I have come abroad to see the
real thing. I was presented at Court in London, Mr.
Tremorne. Now, please don’t say that you congratulate
the Court!”</p>
<p>“There is no need of my saying it, as it has already
been said; or perhaps I should say ‘it goes without
saying.’”</p>
<p>“Thank you very much, Mr. Tremorne; I think
you are the most polite man I ever met. I want you
to do me a very great favor and introduce me to the
higher grades of diplomatic society in Nagasaki during
our stay here.”</p>
<p>“I regret, Miss Hemster, that that is impossible,
because I have been out of the service for some years
now. Besides, the society here is consular rather than
diplomatic. The Legation is at the capital, you know.
Nagasaki is merely a commercial city.”</p>
<p>“Oh, is it? I thought perhaps you had been seeing<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31">31</SPAN></span>
my father to-day because of some consular business,
or that sort of thing, pertaining to the yacht.”</p>
<p>As the girl said this I realized, with a suddenness
that was disconcerting, the fact that I was practically
acting under false pretences. I was her father’s
humble employee, and she did not know it. I remembered
with a pang when her father first mentioned my
name she paid not the slightest attention to it; but
when he said I was the cousin of Lord Tremorne the
young lady had favored me with a glance I was not
soon to forget. Therefore, seeing that Mr. Hemster
had neglected to make my position clear, it now became
my duty to give some necessary explanation, so
that his daughter might not continue an acquaintance
that was rapidly growing almost intimate under her
misapprehension as to who I was. I saw with a pang
that a humiliation was in store for me such as always
lies in wait for a man who momentarily steps out of his
place and receives consideration which is not his social
due.</p>
<p>I had once before suffered the experience which was
now ahead of me, and it was an episode I did not care
to repeat, although I failed to see how it could be honestly
avoided. On my return to Japan I sought out the
man in the diplomatic service who had been my greatest
friend and for whom I had in former days accomplished
some slight services, because my status in the
ranks was superior to his own. Now that there was an
opportunity for a return of these services, I called
upon him, and was received with a cordiality that went
to my discouraged heart; but the moment he learned<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32">32</SPAN></span>
I was in need, and that I could not regain the place I
had formerly held, he congealed in the most tactful
manner possible. It was an interesting study in human
deportment. His manner and words were simply unimpeachable,
but there gathered around him a mantle
of impenetrable frigidity the collection of which was a
triumph in tactful intercourse. As he grew colder and
colder, I grew hotter and hotter. I managed to withdraw
without showing, I hope, the deep humiliation I
felt. Since that time I had never sought a former acquaintance,
or indeed any countryman of my own, preferring
to be indebted to my old friend Yansan on the
terrace above or the sampan-boy on the waters below.
The man I speak of has risen high and is rising higher
in my old profession, and every now and then his last
words ring in my ears and warm them,—words of
counterfeit cordiality as he realized they were the last
that he should probably ever speak to me:</p>
<p>“Well, my dear fellow, I’m ever so glad you called.
If I can do anything for you, you must be sure and
let me know.”</p>
<p>As I had already let him know, my reply that I
should certainly do so must have sounded as hollow as
his own smooth phrase.</p>
<p>Unpleasant as that episode was, the situation was
now ten times worse, as it involved a woman,—and a
lovely woman at that,—who had treated me with a
kindness she would feel misplaced when she understood
the truth. However, there was no help for it,
so, clearing my throat, I began:</p>
<p>“Miss Hemster, when I took the liberty of calling<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33">33</SPAN></span>
on your father this morning, I was a man penniless
and out of work. I went to the yacht in the hope that
I might find something to do. I was fortunate enough
to be offered the position of private secretary to Mr.
Hemster, which position I have accepted.”</p>
<p>The young lady, as I expected, instantly withdrew
her hand from my arm, and stood there facing me, I
also coming to a halt; and thus we confronted each
other in the crowded street of Nagasaki. Undeniable
amazement overspread her beautiful countenance.</p>
<p>“Why!” she gasped, “you are, then, Poppa’s hired
man?”</p>
<p>I winced a trifle, but bowed low to her.</p>
<p>“Madam,” I replied, “you have stated the fact with
great truth and terseness.”</p>
<p>“Do you mean to say,” she said, “that you are to
be with us after this on the yacht?”</p>
<p>“I suspect such to be your father’s intention.”
Then, to my amazement, she impulsively thrust forth
both her hands and clasped mine.</p>
<p>“Why, how perfectly lovely!” she exclaimed. “I
haven’t had a white man to talk with except Poppa for
ages and ages. But you must remember that everything
I want you to do, you are to do. You are to be
<em>my</em> hired man; Poppa won’t mind.”</p>
<p>“You will find me a most devoted retainer, Miss
Hemster.”</p>
<p>“I do love that word ‘retainer,’” she cried enthusiastically.
“It is like the magic talisman of the
‘Arabian Nights,’ and conjures up at once visions of
a historic tower, mullioned windows, and all that sort<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34">34</SPAN></span>
of thing. When you were made a bankrupt, Mr. Tremorne,
was there one faithful old retainer who refused
to desert you as the others had done?”</p>
<p>“Ah, my dear young lady, you are thinking of the
romantic drama now, as you were alluding to comic
opera a little while ago. I believe, in the romantic
drama, the retainer, like the man with the mortgage,
never lets go. I am thankful to say I had no such person
in my employ. He would have been an awful
nuisance. It was hard enough to provide for myself,
not to mention a retainer. But here we are at the
crockery shop.”</p>
<p>I escorted her in, and she was soon deeply absorbed
in the mysteries of this pattern or that of the various
wares exposed to her choice. Meanwhile I took the
opportunity to give the proprietor instructions in his
own language to send to the yacht before five o’clock
what Mr. Hemster had ordered, and I warned the man
he was not to mix up the order I had just given him
with that of the young lady. The Japanese are very
quick at comprehension, and when Miss Hemster and
I left the place I had no fear of any complication arising
through my instructions.</p>
<p>We wandered from shop to shop, the girl enthusiastic
over Nagasaki, much to my wonder, for there are
other places in Japan more attractive than this commercial
town; but the glamor of the East cast its spell
over the young woman, and, although I was rather
tired of the Orient, I must admit that the infection of
her high spirits extended to my own feelings. A week
ago it would have appeared impossible that I should<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35">35</SPAN></span>
be enjoying myself so thoroughly as I was now doing.
It seemed as if years had rolled from my shoulders, and
I was a boy once more, living in a world where conventionality
was unknown.</p>
<p>The girl herself was in a whirlwind of glee, and it
was not often that the shopkeepers of Nagasaki met so
easy a victim. She seemed absolutely reckless in the
use of money, paying whatever was asked for anything
that took her fancy. In a very short time all her ready
cash was gone, but that made not the slightest difference.
She ordered here and there with the extravagance
of a queen, on what she called the “C. O. D.”
plan, which I afterward learned was an American
phrase meaning, “Collect on delivery.” Her peregrinations
would have tired out half-a-dozen men, but she
showed no signs of fatigue. I felt a hesitation about
inviting her to partake of refreshment, but I need not
have been so backward.</p>
<p>“Talking of comic operas,” she exclaimed as we
came out of the last place, “Aren’t there any tea-houses
here, such as we see on the stage?”</p>
<p>“Yes, plenty of them,” I replied.</p>
<p>“Well,” she exclaimed with a ripple of laughter,
“take me to the wickedest of them. What is the use
of going around the world in a big yacht if you don’t
see life?”</p>
<p>I wondered what her father would say if he knew,
but I acted the faithful retainer to the last, and did as
I was bid. She expressed the utmost delight in everything
she saw, and it was well after six o’clock when
we descended from our ’rickshaw at the landing. The<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36">36</SPAN></span>
boat was awaiting us, and in a short time we were
alongside the yacht once more. It had been a wild,
tempestuous outing, and I somewhat feared the stern
disapproval of an angry parent. He was leaning over
the rail revolving an unlit cigar.</p>
<p>“Oh, Poppa!” she cried up at him with enthusiasm,
“I have had a perfectly splendid time. Mr. Tremorne
knows Nagasaki like a book. He has taken me everywhere,”
she cried, with unnecessary emphasis on the
last word.</p>
<p>The millionaire was entirely unperturbed.</p>
<p>“That’s all right,” he said. “I hope you haven’t
tired yourself out.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no! I should be delighted to do it all over
again! Has anybody sent anything aboard for me?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the old man, “there’s been a procession
of people here since you left. Dinner’s ready, Mr.
Tremorne. You’ll come aboard, of course, and take
pot-luck with us?”</p>
<p>“No, thank you, Mr. Hemster,” I said; “I must
get a sampan and make my way into town again.”</p>
<p>“Just as you say; but you don’t need a sampan,
these men will row you back again. See you to-morrow
at ten, then.”</p>
<p>Miss Hemster, now on deck, leaned over the rail
and daintily blew me a kiss from the tips of her slender
fingers.</p>
<p>“Thank you so much, retainer,” she cried, as I lifted
my hat in token of farewell.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37">37</SPAN></span></p>
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