The Lord of the Sea by M. P. Shiel

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Nor was the East less his slave: Japan a mercantile nation, China
and Turkey in his fiscal net. So, looking round the globe toward the
middle of November, he could observe scarcely a nation which he
could not, by scribbling a telegram, crush out of recognition.

It was precisely then that Richard Hogarth revealed himself.

On the 15th of November appeared his Manifesto.

This Charter, which everlastingly must remain one of the Scriptures
of our planet, simple as a baby's syllables, yet large like the arch
of Heaven, has left its mark on the human soul.

On the morning of the 16th its twenty clauses occupied in _pica_ a
page of every newspaper, and it was posted up big in the streets of
cities.

The document ran:

Richard, by the Will of God....I do hereby discern, declare, and
lay down: That:

1. What is no good cannot be owned: only goods can be owned.

2. "_Good_" is _well_, or pleasant; goods is _well_th (wealth) or
pleasures: thus, a coal-mine, being no pleasure, cannot be owned.

3. Coal _becomes_ goods after being moved, or taken. Moving does not
make it good; its nature does not make it good: moving-_plus_-Nature
makes it good, ownable. At the pit-head, already, it is a pleasure,
fewer pains being now needed to move it to a fireplace. Thus, Nature
apart from motion cannot be owned, being no good, as a cave is no
good to a caveman outside it: rain is wetting him; if he takes it,
moves in, it is good.

Animals and plants, by taking things from the planets presented to
them, by moving things, raise Nature into wealth, and own things.

4. For Jack to _own_, have a thing for Jack's _own_, Jack must by
his _own_ force have subdued Nature, must have taken the thing by
moving the thing's atoms, or moving something relatively to the
thing, or, negatively, by not evading, but accepting, the thing in
motion--a wind, tide, light-wave; else Jack must have taken
something (by as much work) to purchase the thing from its (true)
owner, or accepted it as a favour from Nature in motion, or from its
(true) owner. To say "own" is to say "take"; to say "take" is to say
"motion", i.e., the doing of work: "work done" being FD, i.e., Force
used into Distance moved-over. I cannot own the air: it is no good;
I own the air in my lungs, having taken, moved, it, done FD on it:
it is very good; and I own the air which, doing FD, moving to my
face, I do not evade, but accept, take: it is very good.

I say to Jack "take a cigar"; he loudly says "yes!", but does not
move it to his mouth, nor moves his mouth to it; instead, he moves a
pen to his mouth; this makes me laugh: he has not taken a cigar.

Jack is catching fish in a boat; Tom owns the boat: so Jack gives
fish to Tom, until Jack's FD done on the fish is equivalent to Tom's
FD done on the boat; and now Jack owns the boat. If "the law" says
that Tom still owns the boat, this makes me laugh: for how can Tom
come to own two boats' good by the FD done on one only?

Jack is ploughing the sea with a ship: just there he owns the sea,
has taken, is moving, it for his good. He does not own the sea
before, nor the sea behind, him: for the motions behind made by him
have ceased to do good.

Jack is ploughing soil: he owns the soil ploughed, has taken it, and
will own it while the motions he has made do good: so that, if Tom
who has not moved it says "I own the soil, for 'the law' declares
that I have taken it by moving a pen two inches", this makes me
laugh. Or, if Jack says "I own it for ever", this makes me laugh.
Or, if anyone says "I own both the soil and the site" (relative
position), this makes me laugh: for what can one man move to make a
relative position good? He can neither move a field toward anything
nor move much toward a field. If many men move railways that way, or
move things to rear towns round the field, this makes the site good,
moving it from outside a community to inside a community; and the
many who make it good own it.

5. The site is the field's chief good: so the plougher owes
something to those who, making it good, own it, This something is
named "rent".

6. Suppose that the plougher, or dweller-on, is an Englishman: he
owes rent to the English. And, since the site of England is made
good by movements made in America, he owes rent to the Americans.

7. This the mind readily descries to be true: it is a "truism", and
is necessarily the Fundamental Principle of Society throughout the
universe. So that, summing up, we may define: "Rent" is "right",
based on truth when paid to those by whose movements a site is made
good.

8. One might readily guess (if there were no example of it) that any
violation of a Principle so fundamental would be avenged by Nature
upon the planet which violated it.

9. Our planet is such an example: for here Two Separate Violations
of the Principle appear; each great in itself; but one small in
comparison.

10. Accordingly, for the small violation Nature has not failed to
send upon Man a small penalty; and for the great violation great
penalties.

11. The small violation consists in the claim by nations to have
taken, without having moved, sites called "countries".

12. For this Nature has sent upon man the small penalty of War.

13. To abolish War men must remove its cause.

Therefore let the site-rental of England (i.e., the excess of
English goods over what English goods would be, if no other country
existed) be handed over to a World Council; and the site-rental of
America to the same; and the World Council shall disburse such funds
for the majesty and joy of Man: and War shall terminate.

14. This way the Lord of the Sea indicates to the world, though with
its initiation he is not personally concerned.

15. Beside the small violation of the Fundamental Principle of
Society, there is a great on the earth.

16. The Great Violation consists in the claim by individuals to have
taken, without having moved, sites and soils called "estates",
"domains", "plots": for, as rent tends to rightness when paid to the
fifty millions of a nation, _fifty-millionfold_ is its wrongness
when paid to one; and as rent is right when paid to the thousand
million inhabitants of a planet, _a thousand-millionfold_ is its
wrongness when paid to one.

17. For this Great Violation of the Fundamental Principle of Society
Nature has sent upon Man great penalties: poverties, frenzies,
depravities, horrors, sorrows, lowness, dulness.

18. Lowness, dulness: for by far the greatest of these penalties is
a restraint on Man's development. Man is an animal, Man is a mind:
and since the wing of mind is Pride, Assurance, or Self-esteem, and
since the home of an animal is a Planet, and an animal without a
home is a thing without Assurance or Pride, so Man without Earth is
a mind without wing. Even so, a few, having Assurance, make what we
call "Progress", i.e., the discovering of truth--a crawling which
might become flight, had all minds but the wing of Pride to co-
operate in discovering truth. But Man lacks assurance and foothold,
founded home and domain: his sole heritage, though he is neither
fish nor fowl, being sea and air.

19. This is a great violation.

20. And with this great violation of the Fundamental Principle of
Society the Lord of the Sea is personally concerned. In the name of
Heaven and of Earth he urges upon the nations of men to amend it in
the month of the promulgation of this Manifesto: and this summons he
strengthens with a threat of his resentment.

As the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth, I will see to it.

RICHARD.

XXXIX

THE "BOODAH'S" LOCK-UP

Three days after the Manifesto the marriage of Miss Stickney of New
York with Lord Alfred Cowern was to take place, this having been put
off owing to the _Kaiser_ tragedy; and so, on the day of the
Manifesto, Baruch Frankl, the Jew, was crossing to a wedding which,
even in the midst of great events, had stirred up a considerable
rumour and sensation, since the American guests were to consist of
the _coterie_ known as the "Thirty-four", all millionaires, while
"the cake" was to weigh three-quarters of a ton, each guest's grub
to cost $500, and for that breakfast the Neva had been ravished for
fish and Siamese crags for nests.

Frankl, however, was never destined to taste those five hundred
dollar mouthfuls. It happened in this way: as the _Boodah's_
searchlights, destroyed in the battle, were not yet repaired, in the
interval some lawless ships took the chance on dark nights to skulk
past with extinguished lights; now, the captain of Frankl's
chartered steamer had that bright idea (being of adventurous turn),
when night fell forty knots east of the _Boodah_, so he came to
Frankl, and broached the scheme.

"Not for Joe", was Frankl's answer: "pay the Pirate his taxes and be
done".

"It could be worked as sweet as a nut, sir!" persisted the skipper,
with a watering mind.

"Well, so long us _you_ take the risk, perhaps--but no, sir, I'd
rather not".

On which the skipper winked self-willed to himself, and, putting out
nine miles from the _Boodah_ his three lights, went dashing past.

And the attempt would have succeeded, had it not been for the fact
that the night was pitch-dark, and that _another_ ship was trying
that very venture with extinguished lights. And these two ships met,
bow to bow, with such an energy of adventurous smartness, that both
sharply sank.

The sea, however, being smooth, all hands were saved; and now, since
the boats lay forlorn on the vast, with nothing but the _Boodah's_
swarm of moons to move to, for the _Boodah_ they started, while
Frankl cast twinkling fingers to the sky, and cursed that night, as
the oars with slow wash journeyed through turgid murk toward the
very den of the devil.

When they reached the _Boodah_ they were conducted down to a police-
court, and there shivered an hour in a dreary light, till three
officials in peaked caps and frock-coats came, sat on a Bench, and,
after hearing evidence, pronounced sentence of seven months against
the captains, and one against Frankl.

These were led away by police blue-jackets, and Frankl groaned
through the night in a box as cold as the cells of Colmoor.

The next morning Quilter-Beckett, making a report in Hogarth's
_salon_, mentioned the incident, saying: "Here are the names, with
the sentences; I shall send the sailors home..." and Hogarth's eyes,
resting on the document, chanced to catch that name of Frankl.

At once he turned pale, for his first thought was: "Frankl must have
been going to the wedding, in which case _Someone Else_ may be with
him".

But her name was not there....

He rose and paced; and he said low: "No one else on either of the
ships?"

"No, my Lord King".

Then up lifted Hogarth's brow, alight with fun, and he muttered:
"All right, Caps-and-tassels".

He said aloud: "Quilter-Beckett, this Frankl I know. Did you never
hear anything about Caps-and-tassels at Westring? _He_ is Caps-and-
tassels. Now tell me, which is your biggest blue-jacket?"

"Man called Young, my Lord King".

"Then, have a suit of Young's sea-clothes put upon this Frankl, and
let him be brought before me in the Throne Room this morning after
the Audience. He was fond of liveries...."

Accordingly, by half-past eleven Frankl entered the Throne Room,
where, as soon as its rosy translucency broke upon his gaze, an
"Oh!" of admiration groaned from him, in spite of his weight of
misery, he not walking, but being lifted forward in successive
swings by his armpits--up the first steps to the outer circle of
balustrade, forward to the second steps and the inner balustrade,
within which shone the throne, and Hogarth, crowned and large in
robes, on it.

The two warders, intent upon portering Frankl, and not noticing the
cap which still covered his eyebrows, one now in sudden scare
whispered: "Off with your cap, you...!" on which Frankl snatched it
off, grasping through superabundant sleeves, he at the same moment a
fury and a dazzled man, the throne before him incredible, like a
dream which one knows to be a dream, in structure not unlike the
Peacock Throne of Akbar, its length fourteen feet, seating thirteen
persons in recesses, standing on a gold platform with three concave
steps set with rings of sapphire, and consisting of a central part
and two wings, the wings being supported on twisted legs (one had
been broken), and made of fretted ivory mosaicked with cabochon
emerald, ruby, topaz, turquoise, chrysoberyl, diamond, opal, the
large central part, with its recesses, being also of ivory, gold-
arabesqued, its mosque-shape canopy (of Hindoo enamel-work on the
outside) being supported by eleven pillars of emerald; at the top of
each pillar a dolphin (hence the name "Dolphin Throne") made of
turquoise, jasper, pearl, sardius, and at the bottom of each pillar
a _guldusta_, or bouquet, of gems; the concave ceiling one mass of
stones, representing a sea in which sailed three Dutch galleons, and
seven dolphins sported.

But all that Frankl saw of it was its opulence: for his terror lest
the warders should let him go occupied his mind.

And precisely the thing which he feared came upon him, for Hogarth
said: "Warders, retire".

And now Frankl, all unsupported, stood in unstable equilibrium, anon
stooping to his finger-tips, then straining doubtfully forward with
struggling arms from a too backward poise: for not only did the
trousers lie a twisted emptiness far below his feet, but the feet
themselves were lost in Young's boots, so he stood like Scaramouch,
a mere sack, a working of his chin wobbling down his beard, and
there was a blaze in his stare which Hogarth, unfortunately, did not
well estimate.

They faced each other, alone, save for the body-guard at the
circumference of the room.

"Was it _you_ that sent me to Colmoor?" Hogarth suddenly asked in a
low voice, stooping forward.

"_Me_!" shrieked Baruch Frankl, pointing a hanging sleeve-end to his
breast: "as Jehovah is my witness--"

"Were you about to _swear_? For ever the same?--tyrant and worm? It
_was_ you. Now tell it me right out: you have nothing to fear: for
you cannot be vain enough to imagine that I would harbour enmity
against you".

"It wasn't me, I say again, my Lord King!"--Frankl trampled a little
backward, then stooped over-poised to his finger-tips: "with what
motive? Oh, that's hard--to be accused. They have already given me a
month--my God! a month! And only because I am a Jew. But it wasn't
me--that I'll swear to God--"

Hogarth rose to his height, descended, put his hand upon Frankl's
shoulder. "Well, leave that. But--_my sister_!"

His hand felt the shoulder beneath it start like fits.

"Your sister!" Frankl screamed with a face of scare: "Why, what of
her now?"

"Frankl, you are frightened: you know, Frankl, _where she is_!"

"Me? O, my Good God, what is this! Me, poor sinner, know where your
sister is, my Lord King? Why, spare me! spare me, God of Hosts! Why,
you've only got to ask yourself the question--"

"Listen to me, Frankl", said Hogarth, bending his blazing brow low
over the Jew: "I have searched for that woman through the world, and
have not found her. All the time, mind you, I felt convinced that
you know where she is; and you may wonder why--years ago--I did not
have you seized. I will tell you why: it was because I had a sort of
instinct that God, whom I serve continually with tears and prayers,
would not fail in His day to show me her face: and to-day you are
here. Do you suppose, Frankl, that you will go away without telling
me where she is? And in order to hurry you, listen to what I say to
your warders--"

He touched a button in the balustrade, and to the warders said: "If
at any time this man should demand pencil and paper, supply them,
and take to your Admiral what he writes. To-day his food shall be
fare from your own table; to-morrow three loaves and water; from the
third day one loaf and water; till further orders".

Up shot Frankl's shivering arms, while Hogarth, training his ermines
and purples, paced away.

That was on the day following the Manifesto.

XL

THE WEDDING

By the time Frankl's three loaves had become one, that amazement
with which men received the Manifesto had commenced to give place to
more coherent impressions.

He was not a "Monster"! that was the first realization--no pirate,
nor lurid Anti-Christ, nor vainglorious Caesar! And in two days, the
first astonishment over, there arose a noise in the world: for the
Lord of the Sea had given to the nations one month only in which to
do that thing: and the peoples took passionately to meetings.

In England Land Leagues, Chambers of Agriculture, Restoration
Leagues, Nationalization Leagues, many Leagues, were organizing
furiously, stretching the right arm of oratory; deputations,
petitions in wagons, demonstrations _en bloc_, party cannonades,
racket heaven-high. Sir Moses Cohen, the Jew-Liberal Leader,
appealing to the strongest prejudice in Englishmen, spoke one night
at Newcastle of "the interference of a foreign prince in the affairs
of Britain"; used the word: "_Never!_", and on this cry secured an
enormous following: so that, within a week, he was instrumental in
forming the formidable League of Resistance--destined to prove so
tragic for Hogarth, and for England.

It was in the midst of this world-turmoil that--on the third day--
the marriage-morning of Miss Cecil Stickney dawned; and that same
evening Rebekah Frankl, convalescent from influenza, was seated over
a bedroom fire in Hanover Square, a cashmire round her shoulders,
her sickness cured by herbs, her physician then hobbling with a
stick down the stairs--Estrella of Lisbon--her back almost
horizontal now with age.

And as Rebekah mused there, two newsboys below, whose shouts pursued
each other, went proclaiming through November gloom as it were the
day of doom, crying, even in that uproar of Europe, a private event:

MARRIAGE OF

LORD ALFRED COWERN

AND MISS CECIL STICKNEY

APPALLING TRAGEDY

And soon a girl ran in, gasping: "Miss Frankl!--this is too awful--
your father--"

The news, having been flashed to Paris by Mackay-Bennett cable, now
appeared in detail after the _New York Herald's_ French edition, and
Rebekah's eyes ran wildly over details as to the "bevy of beauty",
daughters of "the Thirty-four", and the church of waiting ladies,
the carpeted path between palms and exotics, and how the ticket-
holders heard the organ tell the Cantilenet Nuptiale and Bennett's
Minuet; and then the multitudinous stir: behold the bridegroom
cometh!--the little necessary bridegroom of no importance, and then
the white entry of bride and bridal train, while the choir knelt to
sing "O Perfect Love".

Perfect love, however, was hardly the order of that day, but rather
perfect hate: for in Madison Square--the church being at the upper
end of Fifth Avenue--a mob was being harangued on the subject of
this very wedding: and when they heard and realized the thing that
was being done before their eyes they were swept as by a wind of
fire, and under its impulse set out like some swollen Rhone with a
rushing sound to pounce upon the church, full of perfect hate: and
the choir sang "O perfect love".

What happened now was described as a nightmare. The same elemental
instincts of the Stone Age which had exhibited themselves in the
$5OO-worth of food wrought in another form, but with no less
savagery, in assassins as in victims: and a massacre ensued, bride
and bridegroom passing away like bubbles, of "the Thirty-four" five
only escaping. The report ended with the words: "The ringleaders
have been arrested; quiet reigns through the city"; then a list of
the guests, with asterisks indicating those killed.

Rebekah searched for her father's name, and when she became certain
that it was not there, her lips moved in thanksgiving.

But since Frankl was not at the wedding, where, then, was Frankl?
She counted the days on her fingers: he could not have been late.

Unless there had been an accident to his ship....

Her brows knit a little; she peered into the fire: and thought of
the _Boodah_....

It was possible that when her father's steamer stopped to pay sea-
rent, Hogarth might have heard, and seized him. That notion occurred
to her.

And at once it threw her into an extraordinary fever, her bosom
swelling like elastic in her heavings to catch breath, though she
did not realize the wild thought that was working up to birth within
her. She rose and paced, furiously fast.

If he was in the hands of Hogarth?

"He is a British subject", she muttered: "Hogarth has not the
right...Oh, he has not the right...!"

She was fearfully agitated! something fighting up and up within her,
stifling her, working to burst into birth; she flung the cashmire
from her shoulders, her bosom rowing like two oarsmen. "Because we
are Jews...!" she went.

"If he _dared_ do that--!"

What then? Say! Rebekah!

"I would go to him myself--"

All at once that thought was born, and she stood shockingly naked to
her own eyes, her hands rushing to cover a face washed in shame.
"But, surely", she whispered, "I could never be so _bold_, good
Heavens? Why, Never! Never--!"

However, an hour later, with flaming eyes, she was writing a letter
to Frankl's manager.

XLI

THE VISIT

Frankl's Bank was scanning the agents' yacht-lists for her, when Sir
Moses Cohen, who was closely associated with Frankl, placed his own
three-master at her disposal; and she set out from Bristol, with her
being three Jewish ladies, Frankl's manager, and a snuffy Portuguese
rabbi who resembled a Rembrandt portrait.

It was late at night, and Hogarth, who had lately acquired a passion
for those Mathematics which touch upon Mysticism, was bent over
Quaternions and the quirks of [Proofers note: checkmark symbol] (--i)
in an alcove of his _Boodah_ suite hardly fourteen feet square, cosy,
rosy, and homely: he sitting at a sofa-head, and, lying on the sofa,
Loveday, his head on Hogarth's thigh, escaped from office and frockcoat,
in happy shirt-sleeves, between sleeping and waking.

Hogarth was interrupted by a telephone bell.

"Well?" he answered.

"My Lord King", from Quilter-Beckett, "Frankl has handed to his
warder something written: will your Lordship's Majesty see it now?"

"Yes!" Then: "John! Frankl has yielded!"

Up Loveday started with "Thank God!" while Hogarth: "When does my
yacht arrive?"

"At midnight"--from Quilter-Beckett.

"She starts back immediately for England with me and Mr. Loveday".

Now an officer entered to present an envelope, and the two looked
together over these words:

"Your Lordship's Majesty's sister, Margaret Hogarth, is at No. 11,
Market Street, Edgware Road, London. She goes under the name of
Rachel Oppenheimer, I don't know why. As God is my witness, I repent
in ashes. Won't your Lordship's Majesty have mercy on a worm of the
earth? I am an old man, getting on, and starved to madness. The ever
devoted slave, from this day forth, of my Lord King.

"BARUGH FRANKL".

Hogarth 'phoned up: "Give Frankl food now, and put him where it is
not cold...." and to Loveday he said, "Well, you see, she is there:
'No. 11, Market Street'. And under the name of--what? 'Rachel
Oppenheimer'...John Loveday, do you fathom the meaning of that?"

"No--don't bother me about meanings, but shout, like her, 'O Happy
Day!' I say, Richard, you remember that singing? how we would hear
her from the forge? All day, washing, cooking--melodious soul! There
was 'O Happy Day', and there was--By God, how charmingly holy! how
English! And, Richard, you remember--?"

Another telephone bell: Hogarth turned to hear.

"Just arrived in the yacht, _Tyre_, my Lord King", said Quilter-
Beckett's voice, "four Jewish ladies, a Jewish gentleman, and a
rabbi, who request early audience to-morrow; they lie-to, and have
sent a boat--"

"Rubbish! I shall not be here to-morrow, and even if I was--Who are
they? By the way, no sign of the yacht?"

"Not yet. They are Miss Frankl--"

"Who?"

"Miss Rebekah Frankl--"

"God", went Hogarth faintly, stabbed to the heart.

"Miss Agnes Friedrich, Mrs.--"

But the rest fell upon ears deaf as death, the teeth of Hogarth now
chattering as with cold, that haggard, gaunt yellow, which was his
pallor, overspreading his face. So long was he speechless, that
Quilter-Beckett asked: "Are you there, my Lord King?"

"Quilter-Beckett!"

"Yes, my Lord King?"

"Will you go _yourself_--for me--to them? _Make_ them sleep here,
will you? This is most urgent, I assure you. And go quick, will
you?"

That night did not the Lord of the Sea sleep: she under his roof...

Nor did he go that night to find Margaret--nor the next day, nor the
next, though Loveday chafed: for, gyrating through the giddy air of
a galaxy where Margaret was not, he forgot her.

XLII

REBEKAH TELLS

At that time Hogarth, personally, was in close relation with the
score of Embassies that inhabited the belly of the _Boodah_, these
intriguing incessantly for half-hours at his ear, and in
communication, meanwhile, with their Governments through O'Hara's
_Mahomet_: so that Hogarth had to get up early, and his mornings
sweated with audience and negotiation.

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