The Lion and The Mouse: A Story Of American Life

by Charles Klein and Arthur Hornblow

  CHAPTER V

  Rolling, tumbling, splashing, foaming water as far as the eyecould reach in every direction. A desolate waste, full of life,movement and colour, extending to the bleak horizon and like avast ploughed field cut up into long and high liquid ridges, allscurrying in one direction in serried ranks and with incrediblespeed as if pursued by a fearful and unseen enemy. Serenely yetboisterously, gracefully yet resistlessly, the endless wavespassed on--some small, others monstrous, with fleecy white combsrushing down their green sides like toy Niagaras and with aseething, boiling sound as when flame touches water. They went byin a stately, never ending procession, going nowhere, coming fromnowhere, but full of dignity and importance, their breasts heavingwith suppressed rage because there was nothing in their path thatthey might destroy. The dancing, leaping water reflected everyshade and tint--now a rich green, then a deep blue and again adirty gray as the sun hid for a moment behind a cloud, and as agust of wind caught the top of the combers decapitating them atone mad rush, the spray was dashed high in the air, flashing outall the prismatic colours. Here and yonder, the white caps rose,disappeared and came again, and the waves grew and then diminishedin size. Then others rose, towering, became larger, majestic,terrible; the milk-like comb rose proudly, soared a brief moment,then fell ignominiously, and the wave diminished passed onhumiliated. Over head, a few scattered cirrus clouds flittedlazily across the blue dome of heaven, while a dozen Mother Careychickens screamed hoarsely as they circled in the air. The strongand steady western breeze bore on its powerful pinions the sweetand eternal music of the wind and sea.

  Shirley stood at the rail under the bridge of the ocean greyhoundthat was carrying her back to America with all the speed of whichher mighty engines were capable. All day and all night, half nakedstokers, so grimed with oil and coal dust as to lose the slightestsemblance to human beings, feverishly shovelled coal, throwing itrapidly and evenly over roaring furnaces kept at a fierce whiteheat. The vast boilers, shaken by the titanic forces generating intheir cavern-like depths, sent streams of scalding, hissing steamthrough a thousand valves, cylinders and pistons, turning wheelsand cranks as it distributed the tremendous power which wasdriving the steel monster through the seas at the prodigious speedof four hundred miles in the twenty-four hours. Like a pulsatingheart in some living thing, the mammoth engines throbbed andpanted, and the great vessel groaned and creaked as she rose andfell to the heavy swell, and again lurched forward in obedience toeach fresh propulsion from her fast spinning screws. Out on deck,volumes of dense black smoke were pouring from four gigantic smokestacks and spread out in the sky like some endless cinder pathleading back over the course the ship had taken.

  They were four days out from port. Two days more and they wouldsight Sandy Hook, and Shirley would know the worst. She had caughtthe North German Lloyd boat at Cherbourg two days after receivingthe cablegram from New York. Mrs. Blake had insisted on comingalong in spite of her niece's protests. Shirley argued that shehad crossed alone when coming; she could go back the same way.Besides, was not Mr. Ryder returning home on the same ship? Hewould be company and protection both. But Mrs. Blake was bent onmaking the voyage. She had not seen her sister for many years and,moreover, this sudden return to America had upset her own plans.She was a poor sailor, yet she loved the ocean and this was a goodexcuse for a long trip. Shirley was too exhausted with worry tooffer further resistance and by great good luck the two women hadbeen able to secure at the last moment a cabin to themselvesamidships. Jefferson, less fortunate, was compelled, to hisdisgust, to share a stateroom with another passenger, a fat Germanbrewer who was returning to Cincinnati, and who snored so loud atnight that even the thumping of the engines was completely drownedby his eccentric nasal sounds.

  The alarming summons home and the terrible shock she hadexperienced the following morning when Jefferson showed her thenewspaper article with its astounding and heart rending news abouther father had almost prostrated Shirley. The blow was all thegreater for being so entirely unlooked for. That the story wastrue she could not doubt. Her mother would not have cabled exceptunder the gravest circumstances. What alarmed Shirley still morewas that she had no direct news of her father. For a moment herheart stood still--suppose the shock of this shameful accusationhad killed him? Her blood froze in her veins, she clenched herfists and dug her nails into her flesh as she thought of the dreadpossibility that she had looked upon him in life for the lasttime. She remembered his last kind words when he came to thesteamer to see her off, and his kiss when he said good-bye and shehad noticed a tear of which he appeared to be ashamed. The hottears welled up in her own eyes and coursed unhindered down hercheeks.

  What could these preposterous and abominable charges mean? Whatwas this lie they had invented to ruin her father? That he hadenemies she well knew. What strong man had not? Indeed, hisproverbial honesty had made him feared by all evil-doers and onone occasion they had gone so far as to threaten his life. Thisnew attack was more deadly than all--to sap and destroy hischaracter, to deliberately fabricate lies and calumnies which hadno foundation whatever. Of course, the accusation was absurd, theSenate would refuse to convict him, the entire press would espousethe cause of so worthy a public servant. Certainly, everythingwould be done to clear his character. But what was being done? Shecould do nothing but wait and wait. The suspense and anxiety wereawful.

  Suddenly she heard a familiar step behind her, and Jeffersonjoined her at the rail. The wind was due West and blowing half agale, so where they were standing--one of the most exposed partsof the ship--it was difficult to keep one's feet, to say nothingof hearing anyone speak. There was a heavy sea running, and eachapproaching wave looked big enough to engulf the vessel, but asthe mass of moving water reached the bow, the ship rose on it,light and graceful as a bird, shook off the flying spray as a catshakes her fur after an unwelcome bath, and again drove forward assteady and with as little perceptible motion as a railway train.Shirley was a fairly good sailor and this kind of weather did notbother her in the least, but when it got very rough she could notbear the rolling and pitching and then all she was good for was tolie still in her steamer chair with her eyes closed until thewater was calmer and the pitching ceased.

  "It's pretty windy here, Shirley," shouted Jefferson, steadyinghimself against a stanchion. "Don't you want to walk a little?"

  He had begun to call her by her first name quite naturally, as ifit were a matter of course. Indeed, their relations had come to bemore like those of brother and sister than anything else. Shirleywas too much troubled over the news from home to have a mind forother things, and in her distress she had turned to Jefferson foradvice and help as she would have looked to an elder brother. Hehad felt this impulse to confide in him and consult his opinionand it had pleased him more than he dared betray. He had shown herall the sympathy of which his warm, generous nature was capable,yet secretly he did not regret that events had necessitated thissudden return home together on the same ship. He was sorry forJudge Rossmore, of course, and there was nothing he would not doon his return to secure a withdrawal of the charges. That hisfather would use his influence he had no doubt. But meantime hewas selfish enough to be glad for the opportunity it gave him tobe a whole week alone with Shirley. No matter how much one may bewith people in city or country or even when stopping at the samehotel or house, there is no place in the world where two persons,especially when they are of the opposite sex, can become sointimate as on shipboard. The reason is obvious. The days are longand monotonous. There is nowhere to go, nothing to see but theocean, nothing to do but read, talk or promenade. Seclusion inone's stuffy cabin is out of the question, the public sittingrooms are noisy and impossible, only a steamer chair on deck iscomfortable and once there snugly wrapped up in a rug it issurprising how quickly another chair makes its appearancealongside and how welcome one is apt to make the intruder.

  Thus events combined with the weather conspired to bring Shirleyand Jefferson more closely together. The sea had been rough eversinc
e they sailed, keeping Mrs. Blake confined to her stateroomalmost continuously. They were, therefore, constantly in oneanother's company, and slowly, unconsciously, there was takingroot in their hearts the germ of the only real and lastinglove--the love born of something higher than mere physicalattraction, the nobler, more enduring affection that is born ofmutual sympathy, association and companionship.

  "Isn't it beautiful?" exclaimed Shirley ecstatically. "Look atthose great waves out there! See how majestically they soar andhow gracefully they fall!"

  "Glorious!" assented Jefferson sharing her enthusiasm. "There'snothing to compare with it. It's Nature's grandest spectacle. Theocean is the only place on earth that man has not defiled andspoiled. Those waves are the same now as they were on the day ofcreation."

  "Not the day of creation. You mean during the aeons of timecreation was evolving," corrected Shirley.

  "I meant that of course," assented Jefferson. "When one says 'day'that is only a form of speech."

  "Why not be accurate?" persisted Shirley. "It was the use of thatlittle word 'day' which has given the theologians so manysleepless nights."

  There was a roguish twinkle in her eye. She well knew that hethought as she did on metaphysical questions, but she could notresist teasing him.

  Like Jefferson, she was not a member of any church, although hernature was deeply religious. Hers was the religion the soulinculcates, not that which is learned by rote in the temple. Shewas a Christian because she thought Christ the greatest figure inworld history, and also because her own conduct of life wasmodelled upon Christian principles and virtues. She was religiousfor religion's sake and not for public ostentation. The mystery oflife awed her and while her intelligence could not accept all thedoctrines of dogmatic religion she did not go so far as Jefferson,who was a frank agnostic. She would not admit that we do not know.The longings and aspirations of her own soul convinced her of theexistence of a Supreme Being, First Cause, Divine Intelligence--callit what you will--which had brought out of chaos the wonderfulorder of the universe. The human mind was, indeed, helpless toconceive such a First Cause in any form and lay prostrate beforethe Unknown, yet she herself was an enthusiastic delver intoscientific hypothesis and the teachings of Darwin, Spencer,Haeckel had satisfied her intellect if they had failed to contenther soul. The theory of evolution as applied to life on her ownlittle planet appealed strongly to her because it accountedplausibly for the presence of man on earth. The process throughwhich we had passed could be understood by every intelligence. Theblazing satellite, violently detached from the parent sun startingon its circumscribed orbit--that was the first stage, the gradualsubsidence of the flames and the cooling of the crust--the secondstage: the gases mingling and forming water which covered theearth--the third stage; the retreating of the waters and theappearance of the land--the fourth stage; the appearance ofvegetation and animal life--the fifth stage; then, after a longinterval and through constant evolution and change the appearanceof man, which was the sixth stage. What stages still to come, whoknows? This simple account given by science was, after all,practically identical with the biblical legend!

  It was when Shirley was face to face with Nature in her wildestand most primitive aspects that this deep rooted religious feelingmoved her most strongly. At these times she felt herself anotherbeing, exalted, sublimated, lifted from this little world with itspetty affairs and vanities up to dizzy heights. She had felt thesame sensation when for the first time she had viewed the gloriesof the snow clad Matterhorn, she had felt it when on a summer'snight at sea she had sat on deck and watched with fascinated awethe resplendent radiance of the countless stars, she felt it nowas she looked at the foaming, tumbling waves.

  "It is so beautiful," she murmured as she turned to walk. The shipwas rolling a little and she took Jefferson's arm to steadyherself. Shirley was an athletic girl and had all the ease andgrace of carriage that comes of much tennis and golf playing.Barely twenty-four years old, she was still in the first flush ofyouth and health, and there was nothing she loved so much asexercise and fresh air. After a few turns on deck, there was aruddy glow in her cheeks that was good to see and many an admiringglance was cast at the young couple as they strode briskly up anddown past the double rows of elongated steamer chairs.

  They had the deck pretty much to themselves. It was only fouro'clock, too early for the appetite-stimulating walk beforedinner, and their fellow passengers were basking in the sunshine,stretched out on their chairs in two even rows like so manymummies on exhibition. Some were reading, some were dozing. Two orthree were under the weather, completely prostrated, their biliouscomplexion of a deathly greenish hue. At each new roll of theship, they closed their eyes as if resigned to the worst thatmight happen and their immediate neighbours furtively eyed each oftheir movements as if apprehensive of what any moment might bringforth. A few couples were flirting to their heart's content underthe friendly cover of the lifeboats which, as on most of thetransatlantic liners, were more useful in saving reputations thanin saving life. The deck steward was passing round tea andbiscuits, much to the disgust of the ill ones, but to the keensatisfaction of the stronger stomached passengers who on shipboardnever seem to be able to get enough to eat and drink. On thebridge, the second officer, a tall, handsome man with the pointsof his moustache trained upwards a la Kaiser Wilhelm, was stridingback and forth, every now and then sweeping the horizon with hisglass and relieving the monotony of his duties by ogling thebetter looking women passengers.

  "Hello, Shirley!" called out a voice from a heap of rugs asShirley and Jefferson passed the rows of chairs.

  They stopped short and discovered Mrs. Blake ensconced in a cozycorner, sheltered from the wind.

  "Why, aunt Milly," exclaimed Shirley surprised. "I thought youwere downstairs. I didn't think you could stand this sea."

  "It is a little rougher than I care to have it," responded Mrs.Blake with a wry grimace and putting her hand to her breast as ifto appease disturbing qualms. "It was so stuffy in the cabin Icould not bear it. It's more pleasant here but it's getting alittle cool and I think I'll go below. Where have you childrenbeen all afternoon?"

  Jefferson volunteered to explain.

  "The children have been rhapsodizing over the beauties of theocean," he laughed. With a sly glance at Shirley, he added, "Yourniece has been coaching me in metaphysics."

  Shirley shook her finger at him.

  "Now Jefferson, if you make fun of me I'll never talk seriouslywith you again."

  "_Wie geht es, meine damen?_"

  Shirley turned on hearing the guttural salutation. It was CaptainHegermann, the commander of the ship, a big florid Saxon withgreat bushy golden whiskers and a basso voice like Edouard deReszke. He was imposing in his smart uniform and gold braid andhis manner had the self-reliant, authoritative air usual in menwho have great responsibilities and are accustomed to command. Hewas taking his afternoon stroll and had stopped to chat with hislady passengers. He had already passed Mrs. Blake a dozen timesand not noticed her, but now her pretty niece was with her, whichaltered the situation. He talked to the aunt and looked atShirley, much to the annoyance of Jefferson, who muttered thingsunder his breath.

  "When shall we be in, captain?" asked Mrs. Blake anxiously,forgetting that this was one of the questions which according toship etiquette must never be asked of the officers.

  But as long as he could ignore Mrs. Blake and gaze at ShirleyCapt. Hegermann did not mind. He answered amiably:

  "At the rate we are going, we ought to sight Fire Island sometimeto-morrow evening. If we do, that will get us to our dock about 11o'clock Friday morning, I fancy." Then addressing Shirley directhe said:

  "And you, fraulein, I hope you won't be glad the voyage is over?"

  Shirley sighed and a worried, anxious look came into her face.

  "Yes, Captain, I shall be very glad. It is not pleasure that isbringing me back to America so soon."

  The captain elevated his eyebrows. He was sorry the young lady hadanxie
ties to keep her so serious, and he hoped she would findeverything all right on her arrival. Then, politely saluting, hepassed on, only to halt again a few paces on where his bewhiskeredgallantry met with more encouragement.

  Mrs. Blake rose from her chair. The air was decidedly cooler, shewould go downstairs and prepare for dinner. Shirley said she wouldremain on deck a little longer. She was tired of walking, so whenher aunt left them she took her chair and told Jefferson to getanother. He wanted nothing better, but before seating himself hetook the rugs and wrapped Shirley up with all the solicitude of amother caring for her first born. Arranging the pillow under herhead, he asked:

  "Is that comfortable?"

  She nodded, smiling at him.

  "You're a good boy, Jeff. But you'll spoil me."

  "Nonsense," he stammered as he took another chair and put himselfby her side. "As if any fellow wouldn't give his boots to do alittle job like that for you!"

  She seemed to take no notice of the covert compliment. In fact,she already took it as a matter of course that Jefferson was veryfond of her.

  Did she love him? She hardly knew. Certainly she thought more ofhim than of any other man she knew and she readily believed thatshe could be with him for the rest of her life and like him betterevery day. Then, too, they had become more intimate during thelast few days. This trouble, this unknown peril had drawn themtogether. Yes, she would be sorry if she were to see Jeffersonpaying attention to another woman. Was this love? Perhaps.

  These thoughts were running through her mind as they sat thereside by side isolated from the main herd of passengers, eachsilent, watching through the open rail the foaming water as itrushed past. Jefferson had been casting furtive glances at hiscompanion and as he noted her serious, pensive face he thought howpretty she was. He wondered what she was thinking of and suddenlyinspired no doubt by the mysterious power that enables some peopleto read the thoughts of others, he said abruptly:

  "Shirley, I can read your thoughts. You were thinking of me."

  She was startled for a moment but immediately recovered her selfpossession. It never occurred to her to deny it. She pondered fora moment and then replied:

  "You are right, Jeff, I was thinking of you. How did you guess?"

  He leaned over her chair and took her hand. She made noresistance. Her delicate, slender hand lay passively in his bigbrown one and met his grasp frankly, cordially. He whispered:

  "What were you thinking of me--good or bad?"

  "Good, of course. How could I think anything bad of you?"

  She turned her eyes on him in wonderment. Then she went on:

  "I was wondering how a girl could distinguish between the feelingshe has for a man she merely likes, and the feeling she has for aman she loves."

  Jefferson bent eagerly forward so as to lose no word that mightfall from those coveted lips.

  "In what category would I be placed?" he asked.

  "I don't quite know," she answered, laughingly. Then seriously,she added: "Jeff, why should we act like children? Your actions,more than your words, have told me that you love me. I have knownit all along. If I have appeared cold and indifferent it isbecause"--she hesitated.

  "Because?" echoed Jefferson anxiously, as if his whole futuredepended on that reason.

  "Because I was not sure of myself. Would it be womanly orhonourable on my part to encourage you, unless I felt Ireciprocated your feelings? You are young, one day you will bevery rich, the whole world lies before you. There are plenty ofwomen who would willingly give you their love."

  "No--no!" he burst out in vigorous protest, "it is you I want,Shirley, you alone."

  Grasping her hand more closely, he went on, passion vibrating inevery note of his voice. "I love you, Shirley. I've loved you fromthe very first evening I met you. I want you to be my wife."

  Shirley looked straight up into the blue eyes so eagerly bent downon hers, so entreating in their expression, and in a gentle voicefull of emotion she answered:

  "Jefferson, you have done me the greatest honour a man can do awoman. Don't ask me to answer you now. I like you very much--Imore than like you. Whether it is love I feel for you--that I havenot yet determined. Give me time. My present trouble and then myliterary work--"

  "I know," agreed Jefferson, "that this is hardly the time to speakof such matters. Your father has first call on your attention. Butas to your literary work. I do not understand."

  "Simply this. I am ambitious. I have had a little success--justenough to crave for more. I realize that marriage would put anextinguisher on all aspirations in that direction."

  "Is marriage so very commonplace?" grumbled Jefferson.

  "Not commonplace, but there is no room in marriage for a womanhaving personal ambitions of her own. Once married her duty is toher husband and her children--not to herself."

  "That is right," he replied; "but which is likely to give yougreater joy--a literary success or a happy wifehood? When you havespent your best years and given the public your best work theywill throw you over for some new favorite. You'll find yourself anold woman with nothing more substantial to show as your life workthan that questionable asset, a literary reputation. How manyliterary reputations to-day conceal an aching heart and find itdifficult to make both ends meet? How different with the woman whomarried young and obeys Nature's behest by contributing her shareto the process of evolution. Her life is spent basking in theaffection of her husband and the chubby smiles of her dimpledbabes, and when in the course of time she finds herself in thetwilight of her life, she has at her feet a new generation of herown flesh and blood. Isn't that better than a literary reputation?"

  He spoke so earnestly that Shirley looked at him in surprise. Sheknew he was serious but she had not suspected that he thought sodeeply on these matters. Her heart told her that he was utteringthe true philosophy of the ages. She said:

  "Why, Jefferson, you talk like a book. Perhaps you are right, Ihave no wish to be a blue stocking and deserted in my old age, farfrom it. But give me time to think. Let us first ascertain theextent of this disaster which has overtaken my father. Then if youstill care for me and if I have not changed my mind," here sheglanced slyly at him, "we will resume our discussion."

  Again she held out her hand which he had released.

  "Is it a bargain?" she asked.

  "It's a bargain," he murmured, raising the white hand to his lips.A fierce longing rose within him to take her in his arms and kisspassionately the mouth that lay temptingly near his own, but hiscourage failed him. After all, he reasoned, he had not yet theright.

  A few minutes later they left the deck and went downstairs todress for dinner. That same evening they stood again at the railwatching the mysterious phosphorescence as it sparkled in themoonlight. Her thoughts travelling faster than the ship, Shirleysuddenly asked:

  "Do you really think Mr. Ryder will use his influence to help myfather?"

  Jefferson set his jaw fast and the familiar Ryder gleam came intohis eyes as he responded:

  "Why not? My father is all powerful. He has made and unmade judgesand legislators and even presidents. Why should he not be able toput a stop to these preposterous proceedings? I will go to himdirectly we land and we'll see what can be done."

  So the time on shipboard had passed, Shirley alternately buoyed upwith hope and again depressed by the gloomiest forebodings. Thefollowing night they passed Fire Island and the next day the hugesteamer dropped anchor at Quarantine.