<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XI</h2></div>
<p class="drop-cap i"><span class="smcap1">I was</span> awakened next morning by the roar of the
anchor-chain running out, and found the yacht
at a standstill, with the vibration of the machinery
temporarily at an end. On looking out through
the porthole I recognized the town of Chemulpo, which
had grown considerably since I last saw it. Beyond
stood the hills of Corea, rising wave upon wave, as if
the land had suffered a volcanic eruption.</p>
<p>Mr. Hemster and I had breakfast alone together,
after which we went on deck.</p>
<p>“Now,” said he, “the captain has brought us safely
here without running down an island, and the next
move in the game is yours. What do you propose
to do?”</p>
<p>“I shall go ashore at once, engage ponies and an
escort, change a quantity of silver money into ropes of
sek, then I shall make my way as quickly as possible
to the capital.”</p>
<p>“What are ropes of sek?” asked Mr. Hemster.</p>
<p>“They are bronze, iron, or copper coins, which are
strung on ropes of straw by means of a square hole in
the middle. They are the most debased currency on
earth, and are done up in strings of five hundred cash.
Sek is useful in dealing with the natives, but when I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125">125</SPAN></span>
come to the capital I shall need silver and gold. When
I have made arrangements at Seoul I shall return to
Chemulpo and let you know the result.”</p>
<p>“You told me I could not take the ‘Michigan’ up
the river,—what do you call it,—the Han?—and you
were doubtful about the advisability of using the
naphtha launch.”</p>
<p>“No, the yacht would be sure to run aground before
you had gone very far, and as for the naphtha launch,
the Han is rather a treacherous and very crooked piece
of navigation, and if you had to stop half-way we
might be farther from the capital than we are now,
with a worse road ahead of us, and no chance of getting
ponies or escort. I strongly advise you to stay
where you are till I return, and meanwhile I’ll find out
more about the river than I know now.”</p>
<p>To this Mr. Hemster agreed, and, being well provided
with the sinews of war, I went ashore. Chemulpo
proved to be quite a commercial town, and there
was no difficulty in my getting everything I wanted. I
was shocked but not surprised to find that the Prime
Minister, whom I formerly knew, and on whose help
I had somewhat counted, had been deposed and beheaded,
while all his relatives, male and female, had
been eliminated from human knowledge by death,
slavery, or exile. However, even if this man had remained
in office, my best plea with him would have
been money, and as I was well provided with this necessity
I foresaw no obstacle to my purpose. Having
had an early start, and pushing on with more energy
than my escort relished, in spite of my promises of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126">126</SPAN></span>
recompense, I reached the capital before the great bell
rang and the gates were closed.</p>
<p>I had some thought of calling on the British representative,
and if I had done so would doubtless have
enjoyed better accommodation for the night than fell
to my lot; but as, the last time I saw him, I was, like
himself, a servant of our Government, I could not
bring myself to acknowledge that I was now merely
the hired man of an American millionaire, as his
daughter had so tersely put it.</p>
<p>Next day I very soon bribed my way to the presence
of the then Prime Minister, and was delighted to find
in him a certain Hun Woe, whom I had previously
known in a very much more subordinate capacity. After
our greetings I went straight to the point, and told
Hun Woe that I represented a gentleman and his
daughter, now at Chemulpo, who wished the honour of
a private conference with the Emperor. I also mentioned
casually that there was a certain amount of
money in this for the Prime Minister if he could bring
about the interview. Hun Woe, with many genuflections,
informed me that the delight of serving me
would more than recompense him for any trouble he
was likely to incur, ending his protestations of deep
friendship and regard by inquiring how much of the
needful the gentleman in Chemulpo would be prepared
to place on the table. I replied by naming a sum about
one quarter of the amount I was willing to pay. The
Prime Minister’s eyes glittered, and he made various
shrugs of the shoulders and motions with his hands,
during the time that he politely intimated to me his<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127">127</SPAN></span>
rise in the world since last I met him. A cash dividend
which would have been ample in those days, he
gently hinted, was little less than an insult at the present
time. So far as he was himself concerned, he
added, his services were freely at my disposal, and
none of the silver would stick to <em>his</em> fingers; but, as I
must be aware, the Court at Seoul was a most grasping
and avaricious body, and he should need to disburse
freely before my object could be accomplished.</p>
<p>I sighed and shook my head, rising to leave, regretting
it was not to be my good fortune to add to the
wealth of an old friend, whereupon Hun Woe begged
me to be seated again, and, after many declarations of
affectionate esteem, was good enough to name a sum
which he thought might be sufficient to cover all expenses;
and as this came to less than half of what I
was willing to dispose of, we speedily reached an
agreement. This haggling at the outset was necessary,
not only to save Hemster his hardly earned
money, but also to satisfy the official that he was driving
a shrewd bargain. I accordingly paid the sum in
prompt cash to Hun Woe, and then informed him that
if everything went off to the satisfaction of my employer
a further bonus would be awarded him, depending
in size on the celerity and satisfactory nature of the
interview. This delighted the honest Premier, and I
must admit that he conducted the business with an
energy and despatch which was as gratifying as it was
unexpected.</p>
<p>East or West, money is a great lubricator, and, as I
have said, I was well provided. That very afternoon<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128">128</SPAN></span>
Hun Woe secured me an audience with His Imperial
Majesty, and for the third or fourth time in my life I
stood before the ruler of Corea. I do not know
whether he recognized me or not, but it was quite evident
that the scent of gold was in the air, and the Emperor
did not leave it long in doubt that he intended to
acquire as much as might be available of it. By way
of introduction, and to show that I was prepared to do
the proper thing, I placed a heavy bag of the seductive
metal on the shabby deal table before him, begging His
Majesty to accept it as an earnest of more to follow.
He poured it out on the table, and gloated over it with
a miser’s eagerness. He had not improved in appearance
since last we met. The seams of dissipation had
cut deeply into the royal countenance, and his little
crinkling pig eyes were even more rapacious and cruel
than I remembered them to be.</p>
<p>The proposal to come aboard the yacht was at once
dismissed as impracticable. His Majesty would not
venture away from his capital, and, above all, he would
not risk his precious person on board of anybody’s
steamship, so, on the whole, it was just as well that Mr.
Hemster had not essayed the navigation of the river
Han. However, His Majesty was good enough to inform
me that although he would not trust his royal
person to the care of the infidels, yet he would make
up for that by giving so generous a suitor a suite of
rooms in the Palace itself, and my principal would
therefore have the honour of being the guest of Corea,
as one might say. I imagined that this would look as
well in the columns of the “New York Herald” as if<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129">129</SPAN></span>
the Emperor had gone on board the yacht. I fancied
that a few lines, something to the following effect,
would read very acceptably in the Sunday papers of
Chicago, under the head of <cite>Society Notes</cite>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Mr. Silas K. Hemster, of this city, and Miss Hemster,
occupy a suite of rooms in the royal Palace of Seoul, as guests
of the Emperor of Corea.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>So, all in all, I was more than satisfied with the
speedy and gratifying outcome of my mission to the
Corean capital. After retiring from the royal presence
I congratulated the Prime Minister upon his method of
conducting negotiations and gave him a further payment
on account, so that he would not be tempted to
falter in well-doing; and as for Hun Woe himself he
looked upon me as the most valuable visitor that had
set foot in Corea for many years. I distributed backsheesh
somewhat indiscriminately among the underlings
of the Palace, and early next morning left the
royal precincts on my return to Chemulpo, which port
I reached without any mishap. Possibly never before
in the history of Seoul had business been so rapidly
transacted.</p>
<p>I found Mr. Hemster, as usual, sitting on deck in
his accustomed chair, as if he had no interest in the
negotiations I had been conducting. He listened quietly
to my account of the various interviews, and received
without comment the bribery bill I presented to
him. He did not appear to be so tremendously impressed
as I had expected with the royal invitation to
visit the Palace, and said he would have preferred to
take up his quarters at the chief hotel in the place, but<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130">130</SPAN></span>
when I told him there was not a hotel in the city fit for
a white man to sleep in, he made no demur to the Imperial
proposal. It seemed he had visited Chemulpo
during my absence, and in consequence of what he
heard there he now made some inquiry regarding the
safety of a stay in the capital. I told him that as a
rule the Coreans were a peaceable people unless incited
to violence by the authorities, and as long as we were
willing to bribe the authorities sufficiently they would
take care that the influx of the newly acquired affluence
would not be interfered with. So he asked me to go to
Chemulpo and make arrangements for the transport of
the party next morning.</p>
<p>I had not seen Miss Hemster on the day I left for
Seoul, but she welcomed my return with her former
girlish enthusiasm, just as if nothing particular
had happened. She seemed to have entirely recovered
from her disappointment in not getting to see the Emperor
of Japan, and was now effusively enthusiastic
over our coming journey. The young woman more
than made up for her father’s lack of interest in the
royal invitation, and I was asked question after question
regarding the Palace at Seoul, which I feared
would disappoint her when she saw it, because of its
dilapidations and general lack of impressiveness.
However, a palace was a palace, she averred, and she
further pronounced the opinion that the news of their
residence there would make Chicago “sit up” when it
was cabled over. Miss Stretton sat silent with downcast
eyes during this cross-examination, her intelligent
face as inscrutable as that of the old millionaire himself.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131">131</SPAN></span>
I did not get a word with her that evening, and,
as it was drawing late, I had to return to Chemulpo to
make arrangements for the trip the following day, and
so stayed ashore that night.</p>
<p>We had a beautiful day for our expedition, and
rather a jolly trip of it,—almost, as Miss Hemster
said, as if it were a picnic. At Miss Hemster’s request
I rode by her side, with Miss Stretton sometimes with
us, but more often in front, with the old gentleman,
who jogged moodily on, absorbed in his own meditations,
saying nothing to anybody. Miss Hemster
chatted very gaily most of the day, but as evening drew
on she became tired of talk and began to look anxiously
for the gate of Seoul. When at last we passed through
it she expressed great contempt for the city of shanties,
as she called it, giving somewhat petulant expression to
her disgust at the disillusionment for which I had unsuccessfully
endeavoured to prepare her. Of course
by the time we reached the Palace the ladies were tired
out, and, if we had had the slightest notion of what
was before us, anxiety would have been added to
fatigue.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132">132</SPAN></span></p>
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