<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XVI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XVI</h2></div>
<p class="drop-cap al"><span class="smcap1">Late</span> as it was, I went up on deck, and it was
lucky for me I did so, for I met our bluff old
captain, who, when he learned of the disablement
of my arm, said genially that he had a Cape Cod
liniment good for man or donkey, and I was welcome
to it in either capacity. He ordered me down to my
stateroom, and followed later with the bottle. His own
gnarled hands rubbed the pungent-smelling stuff on
my arm, and he told me I’d be next to all right in the
morning, which prophecy came true.</p>
<p>I am sorry that in these voyages to and from Corea
we met absolutely no adventures, picked up no shipwrecked
crew, and met no cyclone, so I am unable to
write down any of those vivid descriptions that I have
always admired in Mr. Clark Russell.</p>
<p>Next morning was heavenly in its beauty and its
calm. Nagasaki was the last civilized address which
would receive telegrams, letters or papers for Mr.
Hemster, and the old gentleman was anxious to reach
there as soon as possible. As I have remarked before,
he was constantly yearning for a daily paper. The
captain informed me that he had engaged a “heathen
Chinee” as pilot, and so was striking direct from Chemulpo
to Nagasaki, letting the islands take care of
themselves, as he remarked.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181">181</SPAN></span></p>
<p>I walked the deck, watching eagerly for the coming
of Hilda Stretton, but instead there arrived Gertrude
Hemster, bright, smiling, and beautiful. I was just
now regretting lack of opportunity to indulge in Clark-Russellism,
yet here was a chance for a descriptive
writer which proved quite beyond my powers. The
costume of Miss Hemster was bewildering in its
Parisian completeness. That girl must have had a
storehouse of expensive gowns aboard the yacht. I
suppose this was what a writer in a lady’s paper would
call a confection, or a creation, or something of that
sort; but so far as I am concerned you might as well
expect an elucidation of higher mathematics as an adequate
delineation of that sumptuous gown. All I can
say is that the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tout ensemble</i> was perfect, and the girl
herself was radiant in her loveliness. She approached
me with a winning smile like that of an angel.</p>
<p>“I want you to know how I appreciate your bravery.
I shall never forget,—no, not if I live to be a thousand
years old,—how grand and noble you looked standing
up alone against that horde of savages. I was just telling
Poppa that the very first reporter he meets, he
must give a glowing account to him of your heroism.”</p>
<p>I have always noted that when Miss Hemster was in
extreme good humour she referred to the old gentleman
as Poppa; on other occasions she called him Father.
The project of giving away my adventures to the
newspapers did not in the least commend itself to me.</p>
<p>“Good-morning, Miss Hemster,” I said, “I am extremely
pleased to see you looking so well after a
somewhat arduous day.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182">182</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“It was rather a trying time, wasn’t it?” she replied
sweetly, “and if I look well it’s because of the
dress, I think. How do you like it?” and she stepped
back with a sweeping curtesy that would have done
credit to an actress, and took up an attitude that displayed
her drapery to the very best advantage.</p>
<p>“It is heavenly,” I said; “never in my life have I
seen anything to compare with it,—or with the
wearer,” I added.</p>
<p>“How sweet of you to say that!” she murmured,
looking up at me archly, with a winning, bird-like
movement. A glorified bird-of-paradise she seemed,
and there was no denying it. With a touching pathetic
note in her voice she continued,—very humbly, if one
might judge,—“You haven’t been a bit nice to me
lately. I have wondered why you were so unkind.”</p>
<p>“Believe me, Miss Hemster,” I said, “I have not intended
to be unkind, and I am very sorry if I have
appeared so. You must remember we have been
thrown into very trying circumstances, and as I was
probably better acquainted with the conditions than
any one of our party I always endeavoured to give the
best advice I could, which sometimes, alas, ran counter
to your own wishes. It seemed to me now and then
you did not quite appreciate the danger which threatened
us, and you also appeared to have a distrust of
me, which, I may tell you, was entirely unfounded.”</p>
<p>“Of course it was,” she cried contritely, “but nevertheless
I always had the utmost confidence in you, although
you see I’m so impulsive that I always say the
first thing that comes into my head, and that gives people<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183">183</SPAN></span>
a wrong idea about me. You take everything so
seriously and make no allowances. I think at heart
you’re a very hard man.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I hope not.”</p>
<p>“Yes, you are. You have numerous little rules, and
you measure everybody by them. I seem to feel that
you are mentally sizing me up, and that makes me say
horrid things.”</p>
<p>“If that is the case, I must try to improve my character.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m not blaming you at all, only telling you
the way it strikes me. Perhaps I’m altogether wrong.
Very likely I am, and anyhow I don’t suppose it does
any good to talk of these things. By the way, how is
your arm this morning?”</p>
<p>“It is all right, thank you. The captain’s liniment
has been magical in its effect. It was very stupid of
me to get my arm in such a condition, and there is less
excuse because I used to be a first-rate cricket bowler;
but somehow yesterday I got so interested in the game
that I forgot about my muscles.”</p>
<p>“Is it true that the Empress has been murdered?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I had the news from the British Consul, and I
have no doubt of its accuracy.”</p>
<p>“How perfectly awful to think that only the day before
yesterday we saw her sitting there like a graven
image; indeed she scarcely seemed alive even then.
What in the world did they kill the poor woman for?”</p>
<p>“I do not know,” I replied, although I had strong
suspicions regarding the cause of her fate. The next
statement by Miss Hemster astonished me.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_184">184</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Well, it served her right. A woman in that position
should assert herself. She sat there like a Chinese
doll that had gone to sleep. If she had made them
stand around they would have had more respect for
her. Any woman owes it to her sex to make the world
respect her. Think of a sleepy creature like that holding
the position of Empress, and yet making less than
nothing of it.”</p>
<p>“You must remember, Miss Hemster, that the
status of woman in Corea is vastly different from her
position in the United States.”</p>
<p>“Well, and whose fault is that? It is the fault of
the women. We demand our rights in the States, and
get them. If this creature at Seoul had been of any use
in the world she would have revolutionized the status
of women,—at least within the bounds of her own
kingdom.”</p>
<p>I ventured to remark that Oriental ideas of women
were of a low order, and that, as the women themselves
were educated to accept this state of things,
nothing much should be expected of them.</p>
<p>“Oh, nonsense!” cried Miss Hemster strenuously;
“look at the Empress of China. She makes people
stand around. Then there was Catherine of Russia,
and goodness knows Russia’s far enough behind in its
ideas! But Catherine didn’t mind that; she just
walked in, and made herself feared by the whole world.
A few more women like that in the Orient would bring
these heathen people to their senses. It serves this
Corean Queen right when you think of the opportunity
she had, and the way she misused it, sitting there like a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_185">185</SPAN></span>
great lump of dough strung around with jewels she
could not appreciate, like a wax figure in a ten-cent
show. I have no patience with such animals.”</p>
<p>I thought this judgment of Miss Hemster’s rather
harsh, but experience had taught me not to be rash in
expressing my opinion; so we conversed amicably
about many things until the gong rang for luncheon.
I must say that hers was a most attractive personality
when she exerted herself to please. At luncheon she
was the life of the party, making the captain laugh outrageously,
and even bringing a smile now and then to
her father’s grave face, although it seemed to me he
watched her furtively under his shaggy eyebrows now
and then as if apprehensive that this mood might not
last,—somewhat fearful, I imagine, regarding what
might follow. I could not help noticing that there was
a subtle change in the old gentleman’s attitude toward
his daughter, and I fancied that her exuberant spirits
were perhaps forced to the front, to counteract in a
measure this new attitude. I thought I detected now
and then a false note in her hilarity, but perhaps that
may have been a delusion of my imagination, such as
it is. After the captain had gone, toward the end of
the meal, her father seemed to be endeavouring silently
to attract her attention; but she rattled on in almost
breathless haste, talking flippantly to Miss Stretton and
myself alternately, and never once looking toward the
head of the table. I surmised that there was something
beneath all this with which I was not acquainted, and
that there was going on before me a silent contest of
two wills, the latent determination of the father opposed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_186">186</SPAN></span>
to the unconcealed stubbornness of the daughter.
I sympathized with the old man, because I was myself
engaged in a mental endeavour to cause Hilda Stretton
to look across at me, but hitherto without success. Not
a single glance had I received during the meal. At
last the old gentleman rose, and stood hesitating, as if
he wished to make a plunge; then, finally, he interrupted
the rattle of conversation by saying:</p>
<p>“Gertrude, I wish to have a few words with you in
my office.”</p>
<p>“All right, Poppa, I’ll be there in a minute,” she replied
nonchalantly.</p>
<p>“I want you to come <em>now</em>,” he said, with more
sternness in his voice than I had ever heard there before.
For one brief moment I feared we were going
to have a scene, but Miss Gertrude merely laughed joyously
and sprang to her feet, saying, “I’ll race you to
the office then,” and disappeared down the passage aft
almost before her sentence was ended. Mr. Hemster
slowly followed her.</p>
<p>Hilda Stretton half rose, as if to leave me there
alone, then sat down again, and courageously looked
me full in the face across the table.</p>
<p>“He is too late,” she whispered.</p>
<p>“Too late for what?” I asked.</p>
<p>“Too late in exerting parental authority.”</p>
<p>“Is he trying to do that?”</p>
<p>“Didn’t you see it?”</p>
<p>“Well, if that was his endeavour, he succeeded.”</p>
<p>“For the moment, yes. He thinks he’s going to
talk to her, but it is she who will talk to him, and she<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_187">187</SPAN></span>
preferred doing it this time in the privacy of the room
he calls his office. A moment more, and he would
have learned her opinion of him before witnesses. I
am very glad it did not come to that, but the trouble
is merely postponed. Poor old gentleman, I wish I
could help him! He does not understand his daughter
in the least. But let us go on deck and have coffee
there.”</p>
<p>“I was just going to propose that,” I cried, delighted,
springing to my feet. We went up the stair together
and I placed a little wicker table well forward,
with a wicker chair on each side of it, taking a position
on deck as far from the companion-way as possible, so
that we should not be surprised by any one coming up
from below. The Japanese boy served our coffee, and
when he was gone Hilda continued her subject, speaking
very seriously.</p>
<p>“He does not understand her at all, as I have said.
Since she was a baby she has had her own way in
everything, without check or hindrance from him, and
of course no one else dared to check or hinder her.
Now she is more than twenty-one years of age, and if
he imagines that discipline can be enforced at this late
hour he is very much mistaken.”</p>
<p>“Is he trying to enforce discipline?”</p>
<p>“Yes, he is. He has foolishly made up his mind
that it will be for the girl’s good. That, of course, is
all he thinks of,—dear, generous-hearted man that he
is! But if he goes on there will be a tragedy, and I
want you to warn him.”</p>
<p>“I dare not interfere, Hilda.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_188">188</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Why not? Haven’t you a very great liking for
him?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I have. I would do almost anything in the
world for him.”</p>
<p>“Then do what I tell you.”</p>
<p>“What is it?”</p>
<p>“See him privately in his office, and tell him to leave
his daughter alone. Warn him that if he does not there
will be a tragedy.”</p>
<p>“Tell me exactly what you mean.”</p>
<p>“She will commit suicide.”</p>
<p>This statement, solemnly given, seemed to me so utterly
absurd that it relieved the tension which was
creeping into the occasion. I leaned back in my chair
and laughed until I saw a look of pained surprise come
into Hilda’s face, which instantly sobered me.</p>
<p>“Really, Hilda, you are the very best girl in the
world, yet it is you who do not understand that young
woman. She is too thoroughly selfish to commit suicide,
or to do anything else to her own injury.”</p>
<p>“Suicide,” said Hilda gravely, “is not always a matter
of calculation, but often the act of a moment
of frenzy,—at least so it will be in Gertrude Hemster’s
case if her father now attempts to draw tight the reins
of authority. He will madden her, and you have no
conception of the depth of bitterness that is in her nature.
If it occurs to her in her next extravagant tantrum
that by killing herself she will break her father’s
heart, which undoubtedly would be the case, she is
quite capable of plunging into the sea, or sending a revolver
bullet through her head. I have been convinced<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_189">189</SPAN></span>
of this for some time past, but I never thought her
father would be so ill-advised as to change the drifting
line of conduct he has always held in regard to her.”</p>
<p>“My dear Hilda, you are not consistent. Do you
remember an occasion, which to tell the truth I am
loth to recall, when you said if her father treated her
as I had done her character would be much more amiable
than it now appears to be?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think I said that, Mr. Tremorne. I may
have hinted that if her father had taken a more strenuous
attitude in the past, he would not have such a difficult
task before him in the present, or I may have said
that a husband might tame the shrew. The latter, I believe,
would lead to either a reformation or the divorce
court, I don’t quite know which. Or perhaps even
then there might be a tragedy; but it would be the husband
who would suffer, not herself. A man she married
might control her. It would really be an interesting
experiment, and no one can predict whether it
would turn out well or ill; but her father cannot control
her because all these years of affectionate neglect
are behind him, years in which he was absorbed in business,
leaving the forming of her character to hirelings,
thinking that because he paid them well they would do
their duty, whereas the high salary merely made them
anxious to retain their positions at any cost of flattery
and indulgence to their pupil.”</p>
<p>“Then, Hilda, why don’t you speak to him about it?
You have known him for more years than I have days,
and I am sure he would take it kindlier from you than
from me.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_190">190</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“To tell you the truth, I have spoken to him. I
spoke to him last night when we were both waiting for
that flare from the shore at Chemulpo. I could not tell
whether my talk had any effect or not, for he said
nothing, beyond thanking me for my advice. I see
to-day that it has had no effect. So now I beg you to
try.”</p>
<p>“But if you failed, how could I hope to succeed?”</p>
<p>“I’ll tell you why. In the first place because you
are the cause of this change of attitude on the part of
Mr. Hemster.”</p>
<p>“I the cause?”</p>
<p>“Certainly. He has undoubtedly a great liking for
you, in spite of the fact that he has known you so short
a time. In some unexplainable way he has come to
look at his daughter through your eyes, and I think he
is startled at the vision he has seen. But he does not
take sufficient account of the fact that he is not dealing
now with a little girl, but with a grown woman. I noticed
the gradual change in his manner during our stay
at the Palace, and it became much more marked on the
way back to Chemulpo, after we had left you alone battling
with the savages of Seoul. You have said you
were in no real danger, but Mr. Hemster did not think
so, and he seemed greatly impressed by the fact that a
comparative stranger should cheerfully insist on jeopardizing
his life for the safety of our party, and to my
deep anxiety his demeanour toward his daughter was at
first severe and then harsh, for he roundly accused her
of being the cause of our difficulties. I shall pass over
the storm that ensued, merely saying that it took our<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_191">191</SPAN></span>
whole force to prevent Miss Hemster from returning
to Seoul.”</p>
<div id="if_p190" class="figcenter" style="width: 366px;">
<ANTIMG src="images/p190.jpg" width-obs="366" height-obs="600" alt="" />
<div class="caption"><p>“Yes, Hilda,” said I, “but not the soul of kissing.”</p>
</div>
<div class="captionr"><SPAN href="#Page_192"><i>Page 192</i></SPAN></div>
</div>
<p>“Great Heavens!” I exclaimed, “surely that was
mere pretence on her part; sheer bravado.”</p>
<p>“Not altogether. It was grim determination to do
the thing that would immediately hurt her father, and I
do not know what would have happened if she had escaped
from us. It had the instant effect of subduing
him, bringing him practically to his knees before her.
So she sulked all the way to Chemulpo, and I expected
that the brief assumption of authority had ended; but
while we were rowing out to the yacht he spoke very
sharply to her, and I saw with regret that his determination
was at least equal to hers. Therefore I spoke to
him after she had gone to her room, and he said very
little one way or the other. Now he appears to think
that as he has got her safely on his yacht once more he
can bend her to his will, and I am terrified at the outlook.”</p>
<p>“Well, it doesn’t look enticing, does it?”</p>
<p>“No, it doesn’t, so won’t you please talk with him
for his own sake?”</p>
<p>“I’d rather face the Emperor of Corea again, or his
amiable subjects in mass meeting assembled, but I’ll
do it for your sake. Oh, yes, and for his sake, too; I
would do anything I could to make matters easy for
Mr. Hemster.”</p>
<p>“Thank you so much,” said the girl simply, leaning
back in her chair with a sigh of contentment. “Now
let us talk of something else.”</p>
<p>“With all my heart, Hilda. I’ve been wanting to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_192">192</SPAN></span>
talk of something else ever since your very abrupt departure
last night. Now am I over-confident in taking
your last brief action there as equivalent to the monosyllable
‘Yes’?”</p>
<p>The girl laughed and coloured, visibly embarrassed.
She darted a quick glance at me, then veiled her eyes
again.</p>
<p>“The brief action, as you call it, seems rather impulsive
now in the glare of daylight, and was equivalent
to much more than the monosyllable ‘Yes’. Three
times as much. It was equivalent to the trisyllable
‘Sympathy.’ I was merely expressing sympathy.”</p>
<p>“Was that all?”</p>
<p>“Wasn’t that more than enough? I have thought
since, with shame, that my action was just a trifle over-bold,
and I fear you are of the same opinion, although
too kind-hearted to show it.”</p>
<p>“My whole thought was a protest against its
brevity.”</p>
<p>“But brevity is the soul of wit, you know.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Hilda,” said I, leaning forward toward her,
“but not the soul of kissing. If my right arm had not
temporarily lost its power you had never escaped with
the celerity you did. ‘Man wants but little here below,’
and I want that little monosyllable rather than the large
trisyllable. Make me for ever happy by saying you
meant it.”</p>
<p>“For ever is a long time,” she answered dreamily,
her eyes partially closed.</p>
<p>“<em>Miss Stretton, will you oblige me by going downstairs;
I wish to talk to Mr. Tremorne.</em>”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_193">193</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The words, sharp and decisive, cut like a knife, and,
starting to my feet in amazement, I saw that Gertrude
Hemster stood before us, her brow a thundercloud.
Turning from her beautiful but forbidding countenance
to see the effect of her peremptory sentence upon
my dear companion, I found the chair empty, and the
space around me vacant as if she had vanished into
invisibility through the malign incantation of a sorceress.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_194">194</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />