Rouge et Noir
It has been indicated that disaffection followed the elevation ofLosada to the presidency. This feeling continued to grow. Throughoutthe entire republic there seemed to be a spirit of silent, sullendiscontent. Even the old Liberal party to which Goodwin, Zavalla andother patriots had lent their aid was disappointed. Losada had failedto become a popular idol. Fresh taxes, fresh import duties and,more than all, his tolerance of the outrageous oppression of citizensby the military had rendered him the most obnoxious president sincethe despicable Alforan. The majority of his own cabinet were outof sympathy with him. The army, which he had courted by giving itlicense to tyrannize, had been his main, and thus far adequate,support.
But the most impolitic of the administration's moves had been whenit antagonized the Vesuvius Fruit Company, an organization plyingtwelve steamers with a cash capital somewhat larger than Anchuria'ssurplus and debt combined.
Reasonably, an established concern like the Vesuvius would becomeirritated at having a small, retail republic with no rating at allattempt to squeeze it. So, when the government proxies applied fora subsidy they encountered a polite refusal. The president at onceretaliated by clapping an export duty of one ~real~ per bunch onbananas--a thing unprecedented in fruit-growing countries. TheVesuvius Company had invested large sums in wharves and plantationsalong the Anchurian coast, their agents had erected fine homes inthe towns where they had their headquarters, and heretofore had workedwith the republic in good-will and with advantage to both. It wouldlose an immense sum if compelled to move out. The selling price ofbananas from Vera Cruz to Trinidad was three ~reales~ per bunch.This new duty of one ~real~ would have ruined the fruit growers inAnchuria and have seriously discommoded the Vesuvius Company had itdeclined to pay it. But for some reason, the Vesuvius continued tobuy Anchurian fruit, paying four ~reals~ for it; and not sufferingthe growers to bear the loss.
This apparent victory deceived His Excellency; and he began to hungerfor more of it. He sent an emissary to request a conference with arepresentative of the fruit company. The Vesuvius sent Mr. Franzoni,a little, stout, cheerful man, always cool, and whistling airs fromVerdi's operas. Senor Espirition, of the office of the Ministerof Finance, attempted the sandbagging in behalf of Anchuria. Themeeting took place in the cabin of the ~Salvador~, of the Vesuviusline.
Senor Espirition opened negotiations by announcing that the governmentcontemplated the building of a railroad to skirt the alluvial coastlands. After touching upon the benefits such a road would confer uponthe interests of the Vesuvius, he reached the definite suggestion thata contribution to the road's expenses of, say, fifty thousand ~pesos~would not be more than an equivalent to benefits received.
Mr. Franzoni denied that his company would receive any benefitsfrom a contemplated road. As its representative he must declineto contribute fifty thousand ~pesos~. But he would assumethe responsibility of offering twenty-five.
Did Senor Espirition understand Senor Franzoni to mean twenty-fivethousand ~pesos~?
By no means. Twenty-five ~pesos~. And in silver, not in gold.
"Your offer insults my government," cried Senor Espirition, rising,with indignation.
"Then," said Mr. Franzoni, in warning tone, "~we will change it.~"
The offer was never changed. Could Mr. Franzoni have meant thegovernment?
This was the state of affairs in Anchuria when the winter seasonopened at Coralio at the end of the second year of Losada'sadministration. So, when the government and society made its annualexodus to the seashore it was evident that the presidential adventwould not be celebrated by unlimited rejoicing. The tenth of Novemberwas the day set for the entrance into Coralio of the gay companyfrom the capital. A narrow-gauge railroad runs twenty miles intothe interior from Solitas. The government party travels by carriagefrom San Mateo to this road's terminal point, and proceeds by trainto Solitas. From here they march in grand procession to Coraliowhere, on the day of their coming, festivities and ceremonies abound.But this season saw an ominous dawning of the tenth of November.
Although the rainy season was over, the day seemed to hark back toreeking June. A fine drizzle of rain fell all during the forenoon.The procession entered Coralio amid a strange silence.
President Losada was an elderly man, grizzly bearded, witha considerable ratio of Indian blood revealed in his cinnamoncomplexion. His carriage headed the procession, surroundedand guarded by Captain Cruz and his famous troop of one hundredlight horse "~El Ciento Huilando~." Colonel Rocas followed,with a regiment of the regular army.
The president's sharp, beady eyes glanced about him for the expecteddemonstration of welcome; but he faced a stolid, indifferent arrayof citizens. Sightseers the Anchurians are by birth and habit, andthey turned out to their last able-bodied unit to witness the scene;but they maintained an accusive silence. They crowded the streetsto the very wheel ruts; they covered the red tile roofs to the eaves,but there was never a "~viva~" from them. No wreaths of palmand lemon branches or gorgeous strings of paper roses hung fromthe windows and balconies as was the custom. There was an apathy,a dull, dissenting disapprobation, that was the more ominous becauseit puzzled. No one feared an outburst, a revolt of the discontents,for they had no leader. The president and those loyal to him hadnever even heard whispered a name among them capable of crystallizingthe dissatisfaction into opposition. No, there could be no danger.The people always procured a new idol before they destroyed an oldone.
At length, after a prodigious galloping and curvetting of red-sashedmajors, gold-laced colonels and epauletted generals, the processionformed for its annual progress down the Calle Grande to the CasaMorena, where the ceremony of welcome to the visiting presidentalways took place.
The Swiss band led the line of march. After it pranced the local~comandante~, mounted, and a detachment of his troops. Next camea carriage with four members of the cabinet, conspicuous among themthe Minister of War, old General Pilar, with his white moustacheand his soldierly bearing. Then the president's vehicle, containingalso the Ministers of Finance and State; and surrounded byCaptain Cruz's light horse formed in a close double file of fours.Following them, the rest of the officials of state, the judges anddistinguished military and social ornaments of public and privatelife.
As the band struck up, and the movement began, like a bird ofill-omen the ~Valhalla~, the swiftest steamship of the Vesuvius line,glided into the harbor in plain view of the president and his train.Of course, there was nothing menacing about its arrival--a businessfirm does not go to war with a nation--but it reminded SenorEspirition and others in those carriages that the Vesuvius FruitCompany was undoubtedly carrying something up its sleeve for them.
By the time the van of the procession had reached the governmentbuilding, Captain Cronin, of the ~Valhalla~, and Mr. Vincenti,member of the Vesuvius Company, had landed and were pushing theirway, bluff, hearty and nonchalant, through the crowd on the narrowsidewalk. Clad in white linen, big, debonair, with an air ofgood-humored authority, they made conspicuous figures among the darkmass of unimposing Anchurians, as they penetrated to within a fewyards of the steps of the Casa Morena. Looking easily abovethe heads of the crowd, they perceived another that towered abovethe undersized natives. It was the fiery poll of Dicky Maloneyagainst the wall close by the lower step; and his broad, seductivegrin showed that he recognized their presence.
Dicky had attired himself becomingly for the festive occasion ina well-fitting black suit. Pasa was close by his side, her headcovered with the ubiquitous black mantilla. Mr. Vincenti lookedat her attentively.
"Botticelli's Madonna, he remarked, gravely. "I wonder when shegot into the game. I don't like his getting tangled with the women.I hoped he would keep away from them."
Captain Cronin's laugh almost drew attention from the parade.
"With that head of hair! Keep away from the women! And a Maloney!Hasn't he got a license? But, nonsense aside, what do you think ofthe prospects? It's a species of filibustering out of my line."
Vincenti glanced again at Dicky's head and smiled. "~Rouge et noir~,"he said. "There you have it. Make your play, gentlemen. Our moneyis on the red."
"The lad's game," said Cronin, with a commending look at the tall,easy figure by the steps. "But 'tis all like fly-by-night theatricalsto me. The talk's bigger than the stage; there's a smell of gasolinein the air, and they're their own audience and scene-shifters."
They ceased talking, for General Pilar had descended from the firstcarriage and had taken his stand upon the top step of Casa Morena.As the oldest member of the cabinet, custom had decreed that he shouldmake the address of welcome, presenting the keys of the officialresidence to the president at its close.
General Pilar was one of the most distinguished citizens of therepublic. Hero of three wars and innumerable revolutions, he wasan honored guest at European courts and camps. An eloquent speakerand a friend to the people, he represented the highest type ofthe Anchurians.
Holding in his hand the gilt keys of Casa Morena, he began his addressin a historical form, touching upon each administration and theadvance of civilization and prosperity from the first dim strivingafter liberty down to present times. Arriving at the regime ofPresident Losada, at which point, according to precedent, he shouldhave delivered a eulogy upon its wise conduct and the happiness ofthe people, General Pilar paused. Then he silently held up the bunchof keys high above his head, with his eyes closely regarding it.The ribbon with which they were bound fluttered in the breeze.
"It still blows," cried the speaker, exultantly. "Citizens ofAnchuria, give thanks to the saints this night that our air isstill free."
Thus disposing of Losada's administration, he abruptly revertedto that of Olivarra, Anchuria's most popular ruler. Olivarra hadbeen assassinated nine years before while in the prime of life andusefulness. A faction of the Liberal party led by Losada himselfhad been accused of the deed. Whether guilty or not, it was eightyears before the ambitious and scheming Losada had gained his goal.
Upon this theme General Pilar's eloquence was loosed. He drew thepicture of the beneficent Olivarra with a loving hand. He remindedthe people of the peace, the security and the happiness they hadenjoyed during that period. He recalled in vivid detail and withsignificant contrast the last winter sojourn of President Olivarrain Coralio, when his appearance at their fiestas was the signalfor thundering vivas of love and approbation.
The first public expression of sentiment from the people that dayfollowed. A low, sustained murmur went among them like the surfrolling along the shore.
"Ten dollars to a dinner at the Saint Charles," remarked Mr. Vincenti,"that rouge wins."
"I never bet against my own interests," said Captain Cronin, lightinga cigar. "Long-winded old boy for his age. What's he talking about?"
"My Spanish," replied Vincenti, "runs about ten words to the minute;his is something around two hundred. Whatever he s saying, he'sgetting them warmed up."
"Friends and brothers," General Pilar was saying, "could I reach outmy hand this day across the lamentable silence of the grave toOlivarra the Good, to the ruler who was one of you, whose tears fellwhen you sorrowed and whose smile followed your joy--I would bring himback to you, but--Olivarra is dead--dead at the hands of a cravenassassin!"
The speaker turned and gazed boldly into the carriage of thepresident. His arm remained extended aloft as if to sustain hisperoration. The president was listening aghast, at this remarkableaddress of welcome. He was sunk back upon his seat, trembling withrage and dumb surprise, his dark hands tightly gripping the carriagecushions.
Half rising, he extended one arm toward the speaker and shouteda harsh command at Captain Cruz. The leader of the "Flying Hundred"sat his horse, immovable, with folded arms, giving no sign of havingheard. Losada sank back again, his dark features distinctly paling.
Who says that Olivarra is dead?" suddenly cried the speaker,his voice, old as he was, sounding like a battle trumpet. His bodylies in the grave, but to the people he loved he has bequeathedhis spirit--yes, more--his learning, his courage, his kindness--yes,more--his youth, his image--people of Anchuria, have you forgottenRamon, the son of Olivarra?"
Cronin and Vincenti, watching closely, saw Dicky Maloney suddenlyraise his hat, tear off his shock of red hair, leap up the stepsand stand at the side of General Pilar. The Minister of War laidhis arm across the young man's shoulders. All who had known PresidentOlivarra saw again his same lion-like pose, the same frank, undauntedexpression, the same high forehead with the peculiar line ofthe clustering, crisp black hair.
General Pilar was an experienced orator. He seized the momentof breathless silence that preceded the storm.
"Citizens of Anchuria," he trumpeted, holding aloft the keys of CasaMorena, "I am here to deliver these keys--the keys to your homes andliberty--to your chosen president. Shall I deliver them to EnricoOlivarra's assassin, or to his son?"
"Olivarra! Olivarra!" the crowd shrieked and howled. All vociferatedthe magic name--men, women, children and the parrots.
And the enthusiasm was not confined to the blood of the plebs.Colonel Rocas ascended the steps and laid his sword theatricallyat young Ramon Olivarra's feet. Four members of the cabinet embracedhim. Captain Cruz gave a command, and twenty of ~El Ciento Huilando~dismounted and arranged themselves in a cordon about the stepsof Casa Morena.
But Ramon Olivarra seized that moment to prove himself a borngenius and politician. He waved those soldiers aside, and descendedthe steps to the street. There, without losing his dignity orthe distinguished elegance that the loss of his red hair broughthim, betook the proletariat to his bosom--the barefooted, the dirty,Indians, Caribs, babies, beggars, old, young, saints, soldiersand sinners--he missed none of them.
While this act of the drama was being presented, the scene shiftershad been busy at the duties that had been assigned to them. Twoof Cruz's dragoons had seized the bridle reins of Losada's horses;others formed a close guard around the carriage; and they gallopedoff with the tyrant and his two unpopular Ministers. No doubt a placehad been prepared for them. There are a number of well-barred stoneapartments in Coralio.
"~Rouge~ wins," said Mr. Vincenti, calmly lighting another cigar.
Captain Cronin had been intently watching the vicinity of the stonesteps for some time.
"Good boy!" he exclaimed suddenly, as if relieved. "I wondered ifhe was going to forget his Kathleen Mavourneen."
Young Olivarra had reascended the steps and spoken a few words toGeneral Pilar. Then that distinguished veteran descended to theground and approached Pasa, who still stood, wonder-eyed, where Dickyhad left her. With his plumed hat in his hand, and his medals anddecorations shining on his breast, the general spoke to her and gaveher his arm, and they went up the stone steps of the Casa Morenatogether. And then Ramon Olivarra stepped forward and took bothher hands before all the people.
And while the cheering was breaking out afresh everywhere, CaptainCronin and Mr. Vincenti turned and walked back toward the shore wherethe gig was waiting for them.
"There'll be another '~presidente proclamada~' in the morning," saidMr. Vincenti, musingly. "As a rule they are not as reliable as theelected ones, but this youngster seems to have some good stuff in him.He planned and maneuvered the entire campaign. Olivarra's widow,you know, was wealthy. After her husband was assassinated she wentto the States, and educated her son at Yale. The Vesuvius Companyhunted him up, and backed him in the little game."
"It's a glorious thing," said Cronin, half jestingly, "to be ableto discharge a government, and insert one of your own choosing, inthese days."
"Oh, it is only amatter of business," said Vincenti, stopping andoffering the stump of his cigar to a monkey that swung down froma lime tree; "and that is what moves the world of today. That extrareal on the price of bananas had to go. We took the shortest wayof removing it."
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