my buried treasure(我的地下宝藏)-第5章
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〃is one hardly commensurate with services like yours。 I can't pronounce
the name of it； and I'm not sure just where it is； but I see that； of the last
six consuls we sent there； three resigned within a month and the other
three died of yellow…fever。 Still； if you。 insist〃
The practical politician reconsidered hastily。 〃I'm not the sort；〃 he
protested； 〃to turn out a man appointed by our martyred President。 Besides；
he's so old now； if the fever don't catch him； he'll die of old age； anyway。〃
The Secretary coughed uncomfortably。 〃And they say；〃 he murmured；
〃republics are ungrateful。〃
〃I don't quite get that；〃 said the practical politician。
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Of Porto Banos； of the Republic of Colombia； where as consul Mr。
Marshall was upholding the dignity of the United States； little could be
said except that it possessed a sure harbor。 When driven from the
Caribbean Sea by stress of weather； the largest of ocean tramps； and even
battle…ships； could find in its protecting arms of coral a safe shelter。 But； as
young Mr。 Aiken； the wireless operator； pointed out； unless driven by a
hurricane and the fear of death； no one ever visited it。 Back of the ancient
wharfs； that dated from the days when Porto Banos was a receiver of
stolen goods for buccaneers and pirates； were rows of thatched huts；
streets； according to the season； of dust or mud； a few iron…barred； jail…like
barracks； customhouses； municipal buildings； and the whitewashed adobe
houses of the consuls。 The backyard of the town was a swamp。 Through
this at five each morning a rusty engine pulled a train of flat cars to the
base of the mountains； and； if meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into
the swamp； at five in the evening brought back the flat cars laden with
odorous coffeesacks。
In the daily life of Porto Banos； waiting for the return of the train； and
betting if it would return； was the chief interest。 Each night the consuls；
the foreign residents； the wireless operator； the manager of the rusty
railroad met for dinner。 There at the head of the long table； by virtue of his
years； of his courtesy and distinguished manner； of his office； Mr。
Marshall presided。 Of the little band of exiles he was the chosen ruler。 His
rule was gentle。 By force of example he had made existence in Porto
Banos more possible。 For women and children Porto Banos was a death…
trap； and before 〃old man Marshall〃 came there had been no influence to
remind the enforced bachelors of other days。
They had lost interest； had grown lax； irritable； morose。 Their white
duck was seldom white。 Their cheeks were unshaven。 When the sun sank
into the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into a Turkish bath；
they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Cafe Bolivar for drinks。 The
petty gambling led to petty quarrels； the drinks to fever。 The coming of Mr。
Marshall changed that。 His standard of life； his tact； his worldly wisdom；
his cheerful courtesy； his fastidious personal neatness shamed the younger
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men； the desire to please him； to； stand well in his good opinion； brought
back pride and self…esteem。
The lieutenant of her Majesty's gun…boat PLOVER noted the change。
〃Used to be；〃 he exclaimed； 〃you couldn't get out of the Cafe Bolivar
without some one sticking a knife in you； now it's a debating club。 They
all sit round a table and listen to an old gentleman talk world politics。〃
If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos； there
was little in return that Porto Banos could give to him。 Magazines and
correspondents in six languages kept him in touch with those foreign lands
in which he had represented his country； but of the country he had
represented； newspapers and periodicals showed him only too clearly that
in forty years it had grown away from him； had changed beyond
recognition。
When last he had called at the State Department； he had been made to
feel he was a man without a country； and when he visited his home town
in Vermont； he was looked upon as a Rip Van Winkle。 Those of his
boyhood friends who were not dead had long thought of him as dead。 And
the sleepy； pretty village had become a bustling commercial centre。 In the
lanes where； as a young man； he had walked among wheatfields； trolley…
cars whirled between rows of mills and factories。 The children had grown
to manhood； with children of their own。
Like a ghost； he searched for house after house； where once he had
been made welcome； only to find in its place a towering office building。
〃All had gone； the old familiar faces。〃 In vain he scanned even the shop
fronts for a friendly； homelike name。 Whether the fault was his； whether
he would better have served his own interests than those of his
government； it now was too late to determine。 In his own home； he was a
stranger among strangers。 In the service he had so faithfully followed；
rank by rank； he had been dropped； until now he； who twice had been a
consul…general； was an exile； banished to a fever swamp。 The great Ship of
State had dropped him overside； had 〃marooned〃 him； and sailed away。
Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Cafe Bolivar； and
back again to the consulate。 There； as he entered the outer office； Jose〃 the
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Colombian clerk； would rise and bow profoundly。
〃Any papers for me to sign； Jose？ 〃 the consul would ask。
〃Not to…day； Excellency； 〃the clerk would reply。 Then Jose would
return to writing a letter to his lady…love； not that there was any…thing to
tell her； but because writing on the official paper of the consulate gave him
importance in his eyes； and in hers。 And in the inner office the consul
would continue to gaze at the empty harbor； the empty coral reefs； the
empty； burning sky。
The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the wireless
man came in late to announce that a Red D。 boat and the island of Curacao
had both reported a hurricane coming north。 Also； that much concern was
felt for the safety of the yacht SERAPIS。 Three days before； in advance of
her coming； she had sent a wireless to Wilhelmstad； asking the captain of
the port to reserve a berth for her。 She expected to arrive the following
morning。 But for forty…eight hours nothing had been heard from her； and it
was believed she had been overhauled by the hurricane。 Owing to the
presence on board of Senator Hanley； the closest friend of the new
President； the man who had made him president； much concern was felt at
Washington。 To try to pick her up by wireless； the gun…boat NEWARK had
been ordered from Culebra； the cruiser RALEIGH； with Admiral Hardy on
board； from Colon。 It was possible she would seek shelter at Porto Banos。
The consul was ordered to report。
As Marshall wrote out his answer； the French consul exclaimed with
interest：
〃He is of importance； then； this senator？〃 he asked。 〃Is it that in your
country ships of war are at the service of a senator？〃
Aiken； the wireless operator； grinned derisively。
〃At the service of THIS senator； they are！〃 he answered。 〃They call
him the 'king…maker；' the man behind the throne。〃
〃But in your country；〃 protested the Frenchman； 〃there is no throne。 I
thought your president was elected by the people？〃
〃That's what the people think；〃 answered Aiken。 〃In God's country；〃 he
explained； 〃the trusts want a rich man in the Senate； with the same
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interests as their own； to represent them。 They chose Hanley。 He picked
out of the candidates for the presidency the man he thought would help the
interests。 He nominated him； and the people voted for him。 Hanley is what
we call a 'boss。' 〃
The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall。
〃The position of the boss is the more dangerous；〃 said Marshall
gravely； 〃because it is unofficial； because there are no laws to curtail his
powers。 Men like Senator Hanley are a menace to good government。 They
see in public office only a reward for party workers。〃
〃That's right；〃 assented Aiken。 〃Your forty years' service； Mr。 Consul；
wouldn't count with Hanley。 If he wanted your job； he'd throw you out as
quick as he would a drunken cook。〃
Mr。 Marshall flushed painfully； and the French consul hastened to
interrupt。
〃Then； let us pray；〃 he exclaimed； with fervor； 〃that the hurricane has
sunk the SERAPIS； and all on board。〃
Two hours later； the SERAPIS； showing she had met the hurricane and
had come out second best； steamed into the harbor。
Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone； of Washington。 He once
had been in the diplomatic service； and； as minister to The Hague； wished
to return to it。 In order to bring this about he had subscribed liberally to the
party campaign fund。
With him； among other distinguished persons； was the all… powerful
Hanley。 The kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise； in itself； demonstrated
the ability of Livingstone as a diplomat。 It was the opinion of many that it
would surely lead to his appointment as a minister plenipotentiary。
Livingstone was of the same opinion。 He had not lived long in the nation's
capital without observing the value of propinquity。 How many men he
knew were now paymasters； and secretaries of legation； solely because
those high in the government met them daily at the Metropolitan Club； and
preferred them in almost any other place。 And if； after three weeks as his
guest on board what the newspapers called his floating palace； the senator
could refuse him even the prize； legation of Europe； there was no value in
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modest merit。 As yet； Livingstone had not hinted at his ambition。 There
was no need
