IX
When the delegates were appointed to the International ScientificCongress at the Paris Exposition of 1900, how little did anybodyimagine that the great conference would end in the most giganticscandal that ever stirred two continents?
Yet, had it not been for the pair of American newspapers published inParis, this scandal would never have been aired, for the continentalpress is so well muzzled that when it bites its teeth merely meet inthe empty atmosphere with a discreet snap.
But to the Yankee nothing excepting the Monroe Doctrine is sacred, andthe unsopped watch-dogs of the press bite right and left, unmuzzled.The biter bites--it is his profession--and that ends the affair; thebitee is bitten, and, in the deplorable argot of the hour, "it is upto him."
So now that the scandal has been well aired and hung out to dry in theteeth of decency and the four winds, and as all the details have beencheerfully and grossly exaggerated, it is, perhaps, the proper momentfor the truth to be written by the only person whose knowledge of allthe facts in the affair entitles him to speak for himself as well asfor those honorable ladies and gentlemen whose names and titles havebeen so mercilessly criticised.
These, then, are the simple facts:
The International Scientific Congress, now adjourned _sine die_, metat nine o'clock in the morning, May 3, 1900, in the Tasmanian Pavilionof the Paris Exposition. There were present the most famous scientistsof Great Britain, France, Germany, Russia, Italy, Switzerland, and theUnited States.
His Royal Highness the Crown-Prince of Monaco presided.
It is not necessary, now, to repeat the details of that preliminarymeeting. It is sufficient to say that committees representing thevarious known sciences were named and appointed by the Prince ofMonaco, who had been unanimously elected permanent chairman of theconference. It is the composition of a single committee that concernsus now, and that committee, representing the science which treats ofbird life, was made up as follows:
Chairman--His Royal Highness the Crown-Prince of Monaco. Members--SirPeter Grebe, Great Britain; Baron de Becasse, France; his RoyalHighness King Christian, of Finland; the Countess d'Alzette, ofBelgium; and I, from the United States, representing the SmithsonianInstitution and the Bronx Park Zoological Society of New York.
This, then, was the composition of that now notorious ornithologicalcommittee, a modest, earnest, self-effacing little band of workers,bound together--in the beginning--by those ties of mutual respect andesteem which unite all laborers in the vineyard of science.
From the first meeting of our committee, science, the great leveller,left no artificial barriers of rank or title standing between us. Wewere enthusiasts in our love for ornithology; we found new inspirationin the democracy of our common interests.
As for me, I chatted with my fellows, feeling no restraint myself andperceiving none. The King of Finland and I discussed his latestmonograph on the speckled titmouse, and I was glad to agree with theKing in all his theories concerning the nesting habits of thatimportant bird.
Sir Peter Grebe, a large, red gentleman in tweeds, read us some noteshe had made on the domestic hen and her reasons for running ahead of ahorse and wagon instead of stepping aside to let the disturbingvehicle pass.
The Crown-Prince of Monaco took issue with Sir Peter; so did the Baronde Becasse; and we were entertained by a friendly and marvellouslyinteresting three-cornered dispute, shared in by three of the mostprofound thinkers of the century.
I shall never forget the brilliancy of that argument, nor the modest,good-humored retorts which gave us all a glimpse into depths oferudition which impressed us profoundly and set the seal on the bondswhich held us so closely together.
Alas, that the seal should ever have been broken! Alas, that theglittering apple of discord should have been flung into ourmidst!--no, not flung, but gently rolled under our noses by the glovedfingers of the lovely Countess d'Alzette.
"Messieurs," said the fair Countess, when all present, excepting sheand I, had touched upon or indicated the subjects which they hadprepared to present to the congress--"messieurs mes confreres, I havebeen requested by our distinguished chairman, the Crown-Prince ofMonaco, to submit to your judgment the subject which, by favor of theKing of the Belgians, I have prepared to present to the InternationalScientific Congress."
She made a pretty courtesy as she named her own sovereign, and we allrose out of respect to that most austere and moral ruler the King ofBelgium.
"But," she said, with a charming smile of depreciation, "I am very,very much afraid that the subject which I have chosen may not meetwith your approval, gentlemen."
She stood there in her dainty Parisian gown and bonnet, shaking herpretty head uncertainly, a smile on her lips, her small, glovedfingers interlocked.
"Oh, I know how dreadful it would be if this great congress should becompelled to listen to any hoax like that which Monsieur de Rougemontimposed on the British Royal Society," she said, gravely; "and becausethe subject of my paper is as strange as the strangest phenomenonalleged to have been noted by Monsieur de Rougemont, I hesitate--"
She glanced at the silent listeners around her. Sir Peter's red facehad hardened; the King of Finland frowned slightly; the Crown-Princeof Monaco and Baron de Becasse wore anxious smiles. But when herviolet eyes met mine I gave her a glance of encouragement, and thatglance, I am forced to confess, was not dictated by scientificapproval, but by something that never entirely dries up in themustiest and dustiest of savants--the old Adam implanted in us all.
Now, I knew perfectly well what her subject must be; so did every manpresent. For it was no secret that his Majesty of Belgium had beenswindled by some natives in Tasmania, and had paid a very large sum ofmoney for a skin of that gigantic bird, the ux, which has been sooften reported to exist among the inaccessible peaks of the TasmanianMountains. Needless, perhaps, to say that the skin proved a fraud,being nothing more than a Barnum contrivance made up out of the skinsof a dozen ostriches and cassowaries, and most cleverly put togetherby Chinese workmen; at least, such was the report made on it by SirPeter Grebe, who had been sent by the British Society to Antwerp toexamine the acquisition. Needless, also, perhaps, to say that KingLeopold, of Belgium, stoutly maintained that the skin of the ux wasgenuine from beak to claw.
For six months there had been a most serious difference of opinionamong European ornithologists concerning the famous ux in the AntwerpMuseum; and this difference had promised to result in an open quarrelbetween a few Belgian savants on one side and-all Europe and GreatBritain on the other.
Scientists have a deep--rooted horror of anything that touches oncharlatanism; the taint of trickery not only alarms them, but drivesthem away from any suspicious subject, and usually ruins,scientifically speaking, the person who has introduced the subject fordiscussion.
Therefore, it took no little courage for the Countess d'Alzette totouch, with her dainty gloves, a subject which every scientist inEurope, with scarcely an exception, had pronounced fraudulent andunworthy of investigation. And to bring it before the greatInternational Congress required more courage still; for the personwho could face, in executive session, the most brilliant intellects inthe world, and openly profess faith in a Barnumized bird skin, eitherhad no scientific reputation to lose or was possessed of a bravery farabove that of the savants who composed the audience.
Now, when the pretty Countess caught a flash of encouragement in myglance she turned rosy with gratification and surprise. Clearly, shehad not expected to find a single ally in the entire congress. Herquick smile of gratitude touched me, and made me ashamed, too, for Ihad encouraged her out of the pure love of mischief, hoping to hearthe whole matter threshed before the congress and so have it settledonce for all. It was a thoughtless thing to do on my part. I shouldhave remembered the consequences to the Countess if it were proventhat she had been championing a fraud. The ruffled dignity of thecongress would never forgive her; her scientific career wouldpractically be at an end, because her theories and observation
s couldno longer command respect or even the attention of those who knew thatshe herself had once been deceived by a palpable fraud.
I looked at her guiltily, already ashamed of myself for encouragingher to her destruction. How lovely and innocent she appeared, standingthere reading her notes in a low, clear voice, fresh as a child's,with now and then a delicious upward sweep of her long, dark lashes.
With a start I came to my senses and bestowed a pinch on myself. Thiswas neither the time nor the place to sentimentalize over a girlishbeauty whose small, Parisian head was crammed full of foolish, bravetheories concerning an imposition which her aged sovereign had beenunable to detect.
I saw the gathering frown on the King of Finland's dark face; I sawSir Peter Grebe grow redder and redder, and press his thick lipstogether to control the angry "Bosh!" which need not have been utteredto have been understood. The Baron de Becasse wore a painfully neutralsmile, which froze his face into a quaint gargoyle; the Crown-Princeof Monaco looked at his polished fingernails with a startled yetabstracted resignation. Clearly the young Countess had not asympathizer in the committee.
Something--perhaps it was the latent chivalry which exists imbedded inus all, perhaps it was pity, perhaps a glimmering dawn of belief inthe ux skin--set my thoughts working very quickly.
The Countess d'Alzette finished her notes, then glanced around with adeprecating smile, which died out on her lips when she perceived thesilent and stony hostility of her fellow-scientists. A quickexpression of alarm came into her lovely eyes. Would they vote againstgiving her a hearing before the congress? It required a unanimous voteto reject a subject. She turned her eyes on me.
I rose, red as fire, my head humming with a chaos of ideas alldisordered and vague, yet whirling along in a single, resistlesscurrent. I had come to the congress prepared to deliver a monograph onthe great auk; but now the subject went overboard as the birdsthemselves had, and I found myself pleading with the committee to givethe Countess a hearing on the ux.
"Why not?" I exclaimed, warmly. "It is established beyond questionthat the ux does exist in Tasmania. Wallace saw several uxen, throughhis telescope, walking about upon the inaccessible heights of theTasmanian Mountains. Darwin acknowledged that the bird exists;Professor Farrago has published a pamphlet containing an accumulationof all data bearing upon the ux. Why should not Madame la Comtesse beheard by the entire congress?"
I looked at Sir Peter Grebe.
"Have _you_ seen this alleged bird skin in the Antwerp Museum?" heasked, perspiring with indignation.
"Yes, I have," said I. "It has been patched up, but how are we to knowthat the skin did not require patching? I have not found that ostrichskin has been used. It is true that the Tasmanians may have shot thebird to pieces and mended the skin with bits of cassowary hide hereand there. But the greater part of the skin, and the beak and claws,are, in my estimation, well worth the serious attention of savants. Topronounce them fraudulent is, in my opinion, rash and premature."
I mopped my brow; I was in for it now. I had thrown in my reputationwith the reputation of the Countess.
The displeasure and astonishment of my confreres was unmistakable. Inthe midst of a strained silence I moved that a vote be taken upon theadvisability of a hearing before the congress on the subject of theux. After a pause the young Countess, pale and determined, seconded mymotion. The result of the balloting was a foregone conclusion; theCountess had one vote--she herself refraining from voting--and thesubject was entered on the committee-book as acceptable and a date setfor the hearing before the International Congress.
The effect of this vote on our little committee was most marked.Constraint took the place of cordiality, polite reserve replaced thatguileless and open-hearted courtesy with which our proceedings hadbegun.
With icy politeness, the Crown-Prince of Monaco asked me to state thesubject of the paper I proposed to read before the congress, and Ireplied quietly that, as I was partly responsible for advocating thediscussion of the ux, I proposed to associate myself with the Countessd'Alzette in that matter--if Madame la Comtesse would accept the offerof a brother savant.
"Indeed I will," she said, impulsively, her blue eyes soft withgratitude.
"Very well," observed Sir Peter Grebe, swallowing his indignation andwaddling off towards the door; "I shall resign my position on thiscommittee--yes, I will, I tell you!"--as the King of Finland laid afatherly hand on Sir Peter's sleeve--"I'll not be made responsible forthis damn--"
He choked, sputtered, then bowed to the horrified Countess, askingpardon, and declaring that he yielded to nobody in respect for thegentler sex. And he retired with the Baron de Becasse.
But out in the hallway I heard him explode. "Confound it! This is noplace for petticoats, Baron! And as for that Yankee ornithologist,he's hung himself with the Countess's corset--string--yes, he has!Don't tell me, Baron! The young idiot was all right until the Countesslooked at him, I tell you. Gad! how she crumpled him up with thoseblue eyes of hers! What the devil do women come into such committeesfor? Eh? It's an outrage, I tell you! Why, the whole world will jeerat us if we sit and listen to her monograph on that fraudulent bird!"
The young Countess, who was writing near the window, could not haveheard this outburst; but I heard it, and so did King Christian and theCrown-Prince of Monaco.
"Lord," thought I, "the Countess and I are in the frying-pan thistime. I'll do what I can to keep us both out of the fire."
When the King and the Crown-Prince had made their adieux to theCountess, and she had responded, pale and serious, they came over towhere I was standing, looking out on the Seine.
"Though we must differ from you," said the King, kindly, "we wish youall success in this dangerous undertaking."
I thanked him.
"You are a young man to risk a reputation already established,"remarked the Crown-Prince, then added: "You are braver than I.Ridicule is a barrier to all knowledge, and, though we know that, weseekers after truth always bring up short at that barrier anddismount, not daring to put our hobbies to the fence."
"One can but come a cropper," said I.
"And risk staking our hobbies? No, no, that would make us ridiculous;and ridicule kills in Europe."
"It's somewhat deadly in America, too," I said, smiling.
"The more honor to you," said the Crown-Prince, gravely.
"Oh, I am not the only one," I answered, lightly. "There is myconfrere, Professor Hyssop, who studies apparitions and braves acontempt and ridicule which none of us would dare challenge. WeYankees are learning slowly. Some day we will find the lost key to thefuture while Europe is sneering at those who are trying to pick thelock."
When King Christian, of Finland, and the Crown-Prince of Monaco hadtaken their hats and sticks and departed, I glanced across the room atthe young Countess, who was now working rapidly on a type-writer,apparently quite oblivious of my presence.
I looked out of the window again, and my gaze wandered over theexposition grounds. Gilt and scarlet and azure the palaces rose inevery direction, under a wilderness of fluttering flags. Towers,minarets, turrets, golden spires cut the blue sky; in the west thegaunt Eiffel Tower sprawled across the glittering Esplanade; behind itrose the solid golden dome of the Emperor's tomb, gilded once more bythe Almighty's sun, to amuse the living rabble while the deadslumbered in his imperial crypt, himself now but a relic for theamusement of the people whom he had despised. O tempora! O mores! ONapoleon!
Down under my window, in the asphalted court, the King of Finland wasentering his beautiful victoria. An adjutant, wearing a cocked hat andbrilliant uniform, mounted the box beside the green-and-gold coachman;the two postilions straightened up in their saddles; the four horsesdanced. Then, when the Crown-Prince of Monaco had taken a seat besidethe King, the carriage rolled away, and far down the quay I watched ituntil the flutter of the green-and-white plumes in the adjutant'scocked hat was all I could see of vanishing royalty.
I was still musing there by the window, listening to th
e click andringing of the type-writer, when I suddenly became aware that theclicking had ceased, and, turning, I saw the young Countess standingbeside me.
"Thank you for your chivalrous impulse to help me," she said, frankly,holding out her bare hand.
I bent over it.
"I had not realized how desperate my case was," she said, with asmile. "I supposed that they would at least give me a hearing. How canI thank you for your brave vote in my favor?"
"By giving me your confidence in this matter," said I, gravely. "If weare to win, we must work together and work hard, madame. We areentering a struggle, not only to prove the genuineness of a bird skinand the existence of a bird which neither of us has ever seen, butalso a struggle which will either make us famous forever or render itimpossible for either of us ever again to face a scientific audience."
"I know it," she said, quietly "And I understand all the better howgallant a gentleman I have had the fortune to enlist in my cause.Believe me, had I not absolute confidence in my ability to prove theexistence of the ux I should not, selfish as I am, have accepted yourchivalrous offer to stand or fall with me."
The subtle emotion in her voice touched a responsive chord in me. Ilooked at her earnestly; she raised her beautiful eyes to mine.
"Will you help me?" she asked.
Would I help her? Faith, I'd pass the balance of my life turningflip-flaps to please her. I did not attempt to undeceive myself; Irealized that the lightning had struck me--that I was desperately inlove with the young Countess from the tip of her bonnet to the toe ofher small, polished shoe. I was curiously cool about it, too, althoughmy heart gave a thump that nigh choked me, and I felt myself going redfrom temple to chin.
If the Countess d'Alzette noticed it she gave no sign, unless the pinktint under her eyes, deepening, was a subtle signal of understandingto the signal in my eyes.
"Suppose," she said, "that I failed, before the congress, to prove mytheory? Suppose my investigations resulted in the exposure of a fraudand my name was held up to ridicule before all Europe? What wouldbecome of you, monsieur?"
I was silent.
"You are already celebrated as the discoverer of the mammoth and thegreat auk," she persisted. "You are young, enthusiastic, renowned, andyou have a future before you that anybody in the world might envy."
I said nothing.
"And yet," she said, softly, "you risk all because you will not leavea young woman friendless among her confreres. It is not wise,monsieur; it is gallant and generous and impulsive, but it is notwisdom. Don Quixote rides no more in Europe, my friend."
"He stays at home--seventy million of him--in America," said I.
After a moment she said, "I believe you, monsieur."
"It is true enough," I said, with a laugh. "We are the only people whotilt at windmills these days--we and our cousins, the British, whotaught us."
I bowed gayly, and added:
"With your colors to wear, I shall have the honor of breaking a lanceagainst the biggest windmill in the world."
"You mean the Citadel of Science," she said, smiling.
"And its rock-ribbed respectability," I replied.
She looked at me thoughtfully, rolling and unrolling the scroll in herhands. Then she sighed, smiled, and brightened, handing me the scroll.
"Read it carefully," she said; "it is an outline of the policy Isuggest that we follow. You will be surprised at some of thestatements. Yet every word is the truth. And, monsieur, your rewardfor the devotion you have offered will be no greater than you deserve,when you find yourself doubly famous for our joint monograph on theux. Without your vote in the committee I should have been denied ahearing, even though I produced proofs to support my theory. Iappreciate that; I do most truly appreciate the courage which promptedyou to defend a woman at the risk of your own ruin. Come to me thisevening at nine. I hold for you in store a surprise and pleasure whichyou do not dream of."
"Ah, but I do," I said, slowly, under the spell of her delicate beautyand enthusiasm.
"How can you?" she said, laughing. "You don't know what awaits you atnine this evening?"
"You," I said, fascinated.
The color swept her face; she dropped me a deep courtesy.
"At nine, then," she said. "No. 8 Rue d'Alouette."
I bowed, took my hat, gloves, and stick, and attended her to hercarriage below.
Long after the blue-and-black victoria had whirled away down thecrowded quay I stood looking after it, mazed in the web of thatancient enchantment whose spell fell over the first man in Eden, andwhose sorcery shall not fail till the last man returns his soul.
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