CHAPTER XIII.
Visam Britannos hospitibus feros.
HORACE, _Lib. 3, Carm. 4._
Mrs. Dusenall liked the visit to Kingston. She was proud of theappearance her guests and family made at the church, and she thought ofgoing home and writing a book as prodigal of pretty woodcuts andfascinating price-lists as those published by other gilded ladies. True,she had with her no young children wherewith to awake interest inforeign places by detailing what occurred in the ship's nursery; andthus she might have been driven to say something about the foreignplaces themselves, which, in a book of travels, are perhaps of secondaryimportance when a whole gilded family may be studied in theirinteresting retirement.
They kept a log on the Ideal, and each one had to take his or her turnat keeping the account of the cruise posted up to date.
Some events on board or near the Ideal did not come under Mrs.Dusenall's notice and did not appear in the log-book. Nobody flirtedwith Mrs. Dusenall to make her experience exciting, and her book, ifwritten, would have been one long panorama of landscape interlarded withthe mildest of items. But compress your world even to the size of ayacht, and there will be still more going on, in the same eternal way,than any one person can observe, especially if that person happens to bea chaperon.
The first evening among the islands was spent in different ways. Somepaddled about to explore or bathe. Flirtation of a mild type wasprevalent--interesting possibly to the parties concerned, and, as usual,to themselves only. Toward dusk the gig was manned by the crew for thetransportation of Mrs. Dusenall and part of her suite across the riverthrough the islands to the hotels at Alexandria Bay on the Americanshore. The hotel guests on the balconies and verandas were continuing toenjoy or endure that eternal siesta which at these places seems to bequite unbroken save at meal times, and the arrival of a number of verypresentable people in a handsome gig, rowed in the man-of-war style byuniformed sailors and steered by a person with a gold-lace badge on hiscap, created a ripple of interest. Among those on the verandas engaged,perhaps overtaxed, in the digestion of their dinners, not a few wereslightly interested by what they saw. In a group of a dozen or more agentleman behind a solitaire shirt-stud, worth a good year's salary fora Victoria Bank clerk seemed to be speaking the thoughts of the party,though his words came out chiefly as a form of soliloquy. He seemed tobe taking a sort of admiring inventory of the gig and its occupants asit approached the landing wharf:
"Small sailor boy--standing in the bow--with a spear in his hand."
It was a boat-hook in the boy's hand, but it might have been a trident.
"He's real cunnin'--that boy--in his masquerade suit. Four sailors--alsoin masquerade costume. And they can make her hump up the river,sure's-yer-born. Now I wonder who those fellows are--in buttons--withgold badges on their hats. Wonder what those badges might imply! Part ofthe masquerade, I guess. But stylish--very."
Then, turning to a friend, he said:
"Cha'ley, those people are yachting round here."
At this discovery the exhausted-looking refugee from overwork in somecity addressed as "Cha'ley," whose face was lit up solely by a cigar,answered slowly but decisively:
"Looks like it--very."
Then followed a quick mental calculation in the head of the gentlemanbehind the solitaire, and, as the boat came alongside the landing, theoars being handled with trained accuracy, he said:
"I wonder how many of those paid men they have on board. I like it. Ilike the whole thing. I shall do it myself next summer. And right up tothe handle. Cha'ley, bet you half a dollar that those are first-classgentlemen and ladies down there, and we ought to go down and _re_ceivethem."
"Why, certainly," said the other in grave, staccato tones, which seemedto deny the exhaustion of his appearance by indicating some internalstrength. "James," he added in solemn self-reproach, "we should havebeen down--on the landing--to assist the ladies from their canoe."
As they left the veranda several ladies called after them:
"Mr. Cowper, we would be pleased to have you bring the ladies up."
Mr. Cowper bowed with gravity, but did not say anything, as he waspreparing within him his form of self-introduction.
In a few moments Mr. Cowper and Mr. Withers met our party as they slowlymeandered up the ascent toward the hotel. Mr. Cowper, hat in hand, gavethem collectively a bow, which, if somewhat foreign in its nature, wasnot without dignity, and he addressed them with unmistakablehospitality, while Mr. Withers, by a flank movement, attacked the leftwing of the party, where he conducted a little reception of his own.
Mr. Cowper said, "How do you do, ladies and gentlemen?"
Mrs. Dusenall bowed and smiled, and the others, wondering what wascoming, bowed also as they caught Mr. Cowper's encompassing eye. "Weregret," he said, looking toward Geoffrey, to whom he was moreespecially attracted on account of his cap-badge and greater stature."We regret, captain, that we did not notice your arrival in time to beon the landing to assist the ladies from your canoe."
Geoffrey's smile only indicated his gratification and had no referenceto Mr. Cowper's new name for the yacht's gig.
"We are only guests in the hotel ourselves, but if we had known of yourcoming some of us certainly would have been down to _re_ceive you in theproper manner."
What "proper manner" of reception Mr. Cowper had in his head it isdifficult to say. His words showed Mrs. Dusenall, however, that he wasnot the custom-house officer or the hotel-keeper, which relieved her ofsome anxiety lest she should make a mistake. At a slight pause in hisflow of language she thanked him in her most reassuring accents, andcontinued in those suave tones and with that perfect self-possession,with which the English duchess, her head a little on one side and chinupraised, has been supposed carelessly to assert her person, crown, anddignity.
"I assure you," she said, "that we are only knocking about, as it were,quite informally, from place to place in the yacht."
"Quite informally," echoed Geoffrey, who was enjoying Mrs. Dusenall.
She added: "So, of course, we could not think of allowing you to giveyourselves any trouble on our account."
In what pageantry Mrs. Dusenall proceeded when not traveling quiteinformally Mr. Cowper did not give himself the trouble to consider. Thethought came to him that he might be entertaining an English duchessunawares, but the succeeding consciousness that he could probably buy upthis duchess "and her whole masquerade" fortified him as with triplebrass.
"Madam," he said, with that distinctness and intensity with whichAmericans convey the impression that they mean what they say, "if wehave neglected you and your friends at first, we will be pleased if youwill allow us now to try to make your visit attractive."
Mrs. Dusenall thought this was assuming a heavy responsibility.
"If you will come up on the pe-az-a, there are a number of real niceladies who would be most pleased to meet you."
Several of the party began to think that the cares of "knocking aboutquite informally" were about to commence. But as there was no escape,and all smiled pleasantly, and Mr. Cowper conversed as he and Mr.Withers led them up to the "pe-az-a." He was gratified at the way theyresponded to his endeavors; and perhaps he was not without a latent wishto show his hotel friends how perfectly at home he was in "first-classBritish society."
"There is always something going on here," he said; "and if there isnothing on just now we will get up something real pleasant--or my name'snot Cowper."
This hint as to his identity was not thrown away, and as it seemed morethan likely that they were about to be entertained immediately by thisgentleman behind the solitaire headlight, it occurred to Geoffrey thatit would be as well for the party to know what his name was.
"Mr. Cowper, let me introduce you to Mrs. Dusenall."
This quickness on Geoffrey's part relieved Mr. Cowper from anydifficulty in mentioning his own name. Mrs. Dusenall then introduced himin a general way to the remainder of the party. To Miss Dusenall it wasimpossible for him to do mor
e than bow, as she was chilling in herdemeanor. She had received, as has been hinted, that final distractingfinishing polish which an English school is expected to give, and shesought to be so entirely English as not to know what cosmopolitancourtesy was.
Margaret's face, however, gave Mr. Cowper encouragement and pleasure,and, as he shook hands warmly with her, something in her appearance gavea new spur to his hospitable intentions. The energy of a new nationseemed bottled up within him, as he said to Margaret:
"If I can't get up something here to make you enjoy yourself, why--whydon't believe in me any more."
His evident but respectful admiration could only elicit a laugh and ablush. It was impossible to resist Mr. Cowper in his energetic intentionto be host, and, in spite of his dazzling headlight, the nationalgenerosity and forgetfulness of self were so apparent in him thatMargaret "took to him" in a way that mystified the other girls, whoregarded the headlight only as a warning beacon placed there byProvidence to preserve young ladies with an English boarding-schoolfinish from undesirable associations.
Mr. Cowper was what is called "self-made"--a word that in the Statesconveys with it no implied slur--for the simple reason that there is notthe same necessity for it as in England. Speaking generally, an Americanhas a generous consideration for women and a largeness of character, orrather an absence of smallness, not yet sufficiently recognized asnational characteristics. He is generally the same man after "making hispile" as before--not always fully acquainted, perhaps, with socialveneer, but kind, keen, and generous to a fault. It would be an insultto such a one to compare him with the "self-made" Englishman, whose rudepretension of superiority to those poorer than himself, trucklingservility to rank and position, and ignorance of everything outside hisown business render him very unlovely.
"Now," said Mr. Cowper, when he had been introduced to them all. "Now,"he said, "we're all solid. We will just step up-stairs, if you please."He looked at them all pleasantly as he offered his arm to assist Mrs.Dusenall's ascent. When they arrived on the veranda above, his idea wasthat, in order to bring about the perfect concord he desired to see,individual introductions were necessary. To Mrs. Dusenall he introduceda large number of lean girls and stout women, ninety per cent of whomsaid "pleased to meet you," and Mrs. Dusenall, appearing, withsurprising activity of countenance, to be freshly gratified at eachintroduction, quite won their hearts.
But when Mr. Cowper commenced to introduce them all over again toMargaret, that young person, not being afraid of women, rebelled, and,touching his arm to stay his impetuous career, said: "Oh, no, it willtake too long. Let me do it." Then she turned to the company. "As Mr.Cowper says, my name is Mackintosh," and she ducked them a sort ofold-fashioned courtesy. The company bowed--some smiling and some solemnat her audacity. "And very much at your service," she added, as shedipped again to the solemn ones--capturing them also. Then she turned tothe others. "And this is Miss Dusenall," and so-and-so, and so-and-so,until they were all made known.
"And this is Morry," she said lastly, taking the little man by thecoat-sleeve. "Make your bow, Morry."
Rankin remained gazing on the ground until she shook him by the sleeve.Then he took a swift, scared glance at the assembly, and said, "I'mshy," and hid his head behind tall Margaret's shoulder. This absurdityamused the American girls, and five or six of them, forgetting theirstiffness, crowded around to encourage him. A beaming matron came up toMargaret and took her kindly by the elbows.
"I must kiss you, my dear. You did that so charmingly."
"Indeed, it's very kind of you to say so," replied Margaret, as shereceived an affectionate salute. "Long introductions are so tiresome,are they not?"
"They do take time, my dear," said the motherly person, as they sat downtogether.
"Yes, time and introductions should be taken by the forelock," smiledMargaret.
"Just what you did, my dear. I _do_ wish I had a daughter like you. Ohmy!" And the little woman's face grew long for a moment at some sadrecollection. An interesting episode of family sorrow would have beenconfided to Margaret if they had not been interrupted by the arrival offour tall young men, in company with Mr. Withers. The grave, worn-outface of Mr. Withers had just a flicker in it as his strongratchet-spring voice addressed itself to our party:
"Mrs. Dusenall and friends, permit me to introduce to you the 'LittleFrauds.'"
The four tall young men bowed with the usual gravity, and then mixedwith the company. They wore untanned leather and canvas shoes, dark-bluestockings, light-colored knickerbocker trousers, and leather belts.Navy-blue flannel shirts, with white silk anchors on the broad collars,completed their costume, with the exception of black neck-ties and stiffwhite linen caps with horizontal leather peaks. Taken as a whole, theircostume was such a happy combination of a baseball player's and aPullman-car conductor's that the brain refused to believe in themaritime occupation suggested by the white anchors.
Mr. Withers explained who they were.
"The Little Frauds," he said, "are a party of young men who livetogether in a kind of small shanty on one of the neighboring islands.Although the locality is picturesque, they do not live here during thewinter, but only migrate to these parts when--well, when I suppose noother place will have them. They come here every year to enjoy thesolitude of a hermit-life. Here they withdraw themselves from theirfellow-man, and more especially their fellow-woman."
The gentlemen referred to were taking no manner of notice of Mr.Withers, and in their chatter with the girls were not living up to theircharacter.
"The reason why they are called 'Little Frauds' has now almost ceased tobe handed down by the voice of tradition," continued Mr. Withers. "It isnot because they are intrinsically more deceptive than other men. No manwho had any deception in his nature would go round with a leg like thiswithout resorting to artifice to improve its shape."
Mr. Withers here picked up a blue-covered pipe-stem which served one ofthe Frauds with the means of locomotion.
"That, ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Withers, slowly, in the tone of alecturer, and poising the limb in his hand, "is essentially the leg of ahermit. If for no other reason than to hide that leg from the public,its owner, ladies, should become a hermit."
The leg here became instinct with life, and Mr. Withers suddenly steppedback and gasped for breath. Then he explained further:
"Seeing that the origin of the name is now almost lost in obscurity, theLittle Frauds themselves have lately taken advantage of this fact,ladies, to palm off upon the public a spurious version of the story.They say, in fact, that because they systematically withdrew themselvesinto a life of celibacy and retirement, and being, as they claim, verydesirable as husbands, this name was given to them as being frauds uponthe matrimonial market."
Somebody here called out: "Oh, dry up, Withers!"
Mr. Withers took a glass of champagne from one of the waiters passingwith a tray and did quite the reverse. He took two gulps, threw the restover the railing, and continued:
"One glance, ladies, at these people, who are really outcasts fromsociety, will satisfy you that their explanation of the term is aspalpably manufactured as the manuscripts of Mr. Shapira--"
"Mister who?" inquired a profane voice.
"Unaccustomed as they are to the usages of polite society, ladies, youwill excuse any utterances on their part that might seem intended tointerrupt my discourse. The real reason of this ridiculous name is asfollows--"
Here, a remarkably good-looking Fraud stood up before Mr. Withers andobliterated him. He spoke in a voice something like a corn-craik:
"We commissioned Mr. Withers to speak to you, Mrs. Dusenall, and to yourparty, on a topic of great interest to ourselves, but as the night islikely to pass before Mr. Withers gets to the point, we will have todispense with his services."
Mr. Withers had already retired behind his cigar again, with the air ofa man who had acquitted himself pretty well.
The Frauds then begged leave to invite by word of mouth all our party toa
dance next evening on their island.
Mrs. Dusenall accepted for all, as she rose to go, suggesting, at thesame time, that perhaps some of her new friends, if they did not thinkit too late, would accompany them across the water in the moonlight toexamine their yacht.
After some conversation, a number went with Mrs. Dusenall in the gig,while Margaret and the rest of our party were ferried over by Frauds andothers in their long and comfortable row-boats.
Some more champagne was broached on the yacht, but Mr. Withers said heremembered once, early in life, drinking some of the old rye whisky ofCanada, and that since then he had always sought for annexation withthat delightful country.
To the surprise of Mrs. Dusenall, both he and all the "Melican men" tookrye whisky, and ignored her champagne.
The dismay of Mr. Cowper on hearing that the yacht would depart on themorning after the Frauds' dance was unfeigned. He said it "broke him allup."
"Just when we were getting everything down solid for a little timetogether," he said.
Mrs. Dusenall explained that the yacht was to take part in a race atToronto in a few days, and must be on hand to defend her previously wonlaurels.
"Well, Mrs. Dusenall," said Mr. Cowper thoughtfully, "I have myself,over there in the bay, a small smoke-grinder that--"
"A--what?" inquired Mrs. Dusenall.
"A steamboat, madame--a small steam-yacht. Nothing like this, ofcourse." He waved his hand airily as if he considered himself in afloating palace. "But very comfortable, I do assure you. Now, if you aregoing away so soon, the only thing I can do is to get you all to visitthe different islands round here in my steam-barge. I call her the oldroadster, madame, because she can't do her mile in better than threeminutes."
As this represented a speed of twenty miles an hour, Mrs. Dusenall saidit was fast enough for her. If he could have got a steamboat fast enoughto beat the best trotting record Mr. Cowper would have been content.
It was settled that at eleven o'clock next day the steamer should calland take the whole party off to visit the islands; and he suggestedthat, as there would be "a sandwich or something" on the boat, Mrs.Dusenall need not think about a return to the Ideal for luncheon.
He then gravely addressed himself to the four Frauds and to Mr. Withers:
"Gentlemen, before we leave this elegant vessel, I wish to remind youthat no real old Canadian rye whisky will pass our lips again until sucha chance as this once more presents itself. Gentlemen, as this is thelast drink we will have to-night, we will, with Mrs. Dusenall'spermission, make ready our glasses, and we will dedicate and consecratethis toast to the success of the Ideal and her delightful crew. Mrs.Dusenall--ladies and gentlemen of the Ideal--this toast is not only tocelebrate our new acquaintance, which we hope may have in the futuremore chances to ripen into intimacy (and which on our part will never beforgotten), but we drink it also for another reason--for another lessworthy reason--and I can not disguise from you the fact that, to speakplainly, _we like the liquor_. Madame, the gentlemen of the Ideal haveconsented to come back with me now, to smoke just one cigar on the hotelbefore we all retire for the night. Citizens of the United States,Frauds, and others, as this is the last drink we are to have to-night,we will drink the toast in silence."
The gravity of the Americans is a huge national sham, throwing intorelief their humor and sunshiny good-will, as in a picture a somber graybackground throws up the high lights.
In half an hour more all the men were back at the hotel with Mr.Cowper; but, instead of pursuing the tranquil occupation of smoking acigar, as he proposed, they were led in and confronted with a banquet inwhich the extensive resources of the hotel had been taxed to the utmostMr. Cowper called it the "little something to eat," as he pressed themto come from the verandas into the hotel. But really it was amagnificent affair, and, as Mr. Lemons, who was eloquent on the subject,said, it was calculated to appeal to a man's most delicatesensibilities.
We will not follow them any further on this evening. Mr. Cowper's ideawas to all have a good time together--banish stiffness, promoteintimacy, and to drive to the winds all cares. He certainly succeeded,for at twelve o'clock there was not a "Mister" in the room for anybody.At one o'clock it was "Jack, old man," and "Cowper, old chappie," allround. At two o'clock the friendship on all sides was not onlyhermetically sealed, but it promised to be eternal, and after that, itwas thought the night was a little dark for Charley Dusenall to returnwith the others to the yacht, so he remained at the hotel till morning.