The Lord of the Sea by M. P. Shiel

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The German and Russian Emperors, with the Prince of Wales (then
virtually Regent), had hurriedly met at Vienna--presumably for the
discussion of the Manifesto; and immediately after it, the Prince,
who had the reputation of being one of the most tactful of men-of-
the-world, took a step which hinted that the Royal House, as often
before, meant to come to the rescue of the country which loved it
however the politicians might bungle: Hogarth was invited to accept
the Garter.

He accepted: and the ceremony in the _Boodah_ was witnessed, as it
were, by Europe, King-at-Arms in a new tabard, with his suite, going
to invest him, taking the Statute of the Chapter, with the Great
Seal of England, and a set of habiliments--white-silk stockings,
gold sword Spanish hat, stars, gloves. And the effect was speedy,
the other rulers, dumbfounded before, said now: "England will comply
with the Manifesto; and, if before us, the taxed sea opens to
her....Yield, moreover, we must: let us make haste!"

But to consent was one thing: the _how_ another: the mere suspicion
of the willingness of Kaiser or Tsar shook their thrones. Whereupon
Russia said to Hogarth: "Recently dispossessed, they cling dyingly
now to their lands, so I will _buy_ the land from them, and _you_
will lend me the money"; to which Hogarth virtually replied: "It is
too childish to talk of buying part of a heavenly body from a
Russian: have you no sense of humour? You may give the Russian
'nobles' some money, if that pleases you: but without my help. If
His Majesty the Tsar is more afraid of them than of me, my only way
will be to prove myself more truly terrible than they".

But high words hurl down no hundred-headed hydra: in France--fast,
faster--with dizzy vertigo--millions were forming themselves into
secret societies, while in England was One only--but stronger than
the many of France.

By the date of Rebekah's pilgrimage Hogarth had so far failed and
yielded, as almost to decide that from the _Boodah_ nothing could be
done, unless he went to the extent of ruining and starving. The
other alternative was the fixing upon one nation, becoming its
recognized ruler, and there furnishing an example both of _modus
operandi_, and of a subsequent state of happiness, which others
could not long refrain from imitating.

But this modification was still in the air; and, meanwhile, he
listened, weighed, revolved: using men, impressing, convincing,
extracting for his use the wisdom of their experience, estimating
the exact pressure of the Time, the _timbre_ of its roar.

So on the morning after Rebekah's arrival his Gold Stick became his
rack from the moment of the bow from the throne till noon: name
after name--cordons, orders, gold-lace, sashes, stars, tiaras; till
enter the four Jewesses, the bank-manager, the rabbi, Hogarth's
pallor showing up his three moles and nose-freckles, adding a glare
to his eyes, he suffering from the runaway drumming of his heart.

The ladies stoop through curtseys; the men do reverence; Hogarth
bows.

There like a Begum of Bhopal stood Rebekah, floridly reflected in
the glassy floor, sallow under the eyes, smiling at him, he at her;
and very quickly now, she once in his sight, he recovered
comparative calm, and the strength of his heart.

"Your first visit to the _Boodah_, I think?"--looking at her.

"Yes, my Lord King"--curtseying.

"Do you like her?"

"Why, yes: she is solid, and mighty, and rich. In my own, and the
name of my friends, I beg to thank your Lordship's Majesty for your
Lordship's Majesty's kind and good hospitality to us".

"Humbugging little beggar", thought Hogarth, his mind slowly
gathering tone, but rushing meanwhile into a species of frivolous
assurance after those agitations, his hands still cold.

"Well", he said, "but you have not seen her! I think I know her
fairly well, and I propose to be myself your guide, if that will
interest you--"

The Rabbi spoke with trembling voice: "It is gracious, my Lord King.
We are here, however, humbly to present an urgent petition to your
Lordship's Majesty. Baruch Frankl, at present a prisoner in the
_Boodah_, a man no longer young, and habituated to comfort--"

"Stay", interrupted Hogarth: "if you have a petition the day and
hour must be arranged by negotiation between yourself and my
Chamberlain. But surely, meantime, I may consider you my guest? Miss
Frankl and I--have met--in the world. Come, ladies--come, sirs--say
yes!"

Rebekah, standing averted, flashed a look at him, reading his heart,
and Jews and Jewesses laid heads together, whispering a little,
until the Rabbi said, bowing: "We bend to your Lordship's Majesty's
most gracious will".

"Agreed, then, sir. We might now see the _Boodah_, and if you will
luncheon with me--Mr. Chamberlain! direct Admiral Quilter-Beckett to
meet me at once in the north corridor".

He rose, master of his limbs now, descended, unrobed in an alcove,
and in a corridor above the circular stair came upon Quilter-
Beckett, who, acting as guide, Rebekah's hand now resting on
Hogarth's arm, led them about the _Boodah_, now walking, now
slipping in little trains over eighty-foot rails, rolled in one
heat, laid down the vanishing length of dim-lit corridors floored
with white tiles, their frieze of majolica, with rows of ceramics;
and they saw the armouries, piles of rifles, cutlasses, pistols;
ferneries grown by electric light; great cold-storage rooms that
struck a chill, for preserving meats, butter, fruit; the doctors'
_environ_, the dispensary, and roomy hospital; watched from a
railing the working engines that fixed the _Boodah's_ position,
Hogarth here saying: "There you have a menagerie of gnome-land:
observe those two black beetles, sedately nodding; and there is
daddy-longlegs, working his legs gymnastically; and the three pairs
of gallant grey stallions, galloping grandly neck to neck; and those
two ridiculous beings, rubbing their palms together, round and
round: each preoccupied, comically solemn, busied about its own
quaint affairs--like a varied gnomeland".

And Rebekah said in a meek tone, like the hen submitting: "Yes, I
see now you say it, my Lord King".

Up stairs and down, round semicircles, up lifts, through nooks,
corridors: saw the guns, and how by hydraulics everything was done--
the hoisting of ammunition, loading, training: guns intact, guns
wrecked by the Dreadnoughts; and shimmering kitchens, which reeked a
smell of heat, and the dairy-maids, and the line of kine, and the
row of prison-doors, and the mechanism of ventilation, fans and
blowers, the drainage-system, and the dynamos for lighting, for
supplying power to motors, for heating, and for shimmering forth
rich in the search-lights; and the central ballroom, the clothes
store, the original one-ninety-sixth model, the Ambassador-region,
the steaming laundry, and the roof, where Rebekah saw her initials
on the breeze, and the vertical pop-guns under shields for dealing
with aeroplane attack, and the cream theatre, and the paymaster's
suite, and the bunkers, the Government-offices, and the tax-
receiving rooms, the telephone system, and the lady-telegraphists--
till all were tired, though half had not been seen. They luncheoned
together; in the early afternoon there was an Investiture, and she
was there; for "five-o'clock" there was a Gounod concert in the
theatre, and she sat in his box; at night the Bulgarian Ambassador
gave a ball, and she danced a gavotte with him.

When they parted a dying wind sighed his name: "_Hogarth_..."; and
when Loveday before sleeping happened to ask: "When do we set out
for London, Richard?" Hogarth with a laugh turned upon him,
replying: "When do we set out for Arcturus and the Pleiades? Do give
one time to look round him!"

The next morning Rebekah, led forward from a semicircle of courtiers
by a backing Silver Stick, approached within four feet of the
Throne, and after the protracted humiliation of her curtsey, said
ruefully: "Our party have failed, my Lord King, to obtain audience
for our humble petition till after four days".

"Is that too long?"

"We could not wait beyond to-night. Our good Rabbi, and my father's
Manager--both must hurry back, and we others with them. This being
so, _I_ appeal to Your Lordship's Majesty ".

"A _personal_ appeal?"

"Yes"--poutingly.

"Then, I grant an audience".

"Where?"

"Here".

"Who will be here?"

"Why--you and I."

"_No_"--very low, with pressed lips.

"I am so sorry", says he: "it is the only chance I shall have; not
for long--a few minutes--I am so busy. Otherwise, you will have to
stay four days--and your poor father suffering--"

She seemed unsure now, and his hands in the uncertainty of that
moment were moist like melting ice.

"So, then, you accept", said he: "a little audience--you grant me?
Or rather, I grant you".

"When, my Lord King?"

"At three--No, what folly! At four. Will you? At four? And here?
Say at four".

He spoke leaning keenly forward; and she, with a curtsey of
acquiescence, retired.

They were near again, and yet far, in the _salle a manger_ at
luncheon, a function of a hundred guests at small tables, with more
of orchestra than of talk; and even as Hogarth and his train
entered, and the crowd rose, she saw his eyes, by some power, prowl
and find her.

Afterwards there were two hours to wait.

Such a heat of haste now possessed them both! Hogarth locked himself
from his attendants into his bed-chamber, and, tumbling a chaos of
clothes and uniforms upon the carpet, stumbled bitterly among them,
hunting for a cravat whose effect he remembered; wished at the
mirror that he had no moles and nose-freckles, or that his father
had turned him out rather less black; and anon a delicious chill
pang of mingled sugar and peppermint would gash his heart at the
thought: "_she consented!_" He broke glass, dropped his watch to
fragments, hissing "damn the thing!"; and about half-past three the
hands of Rebekah, too, in _her_ locked closet, were like the
scattering sirocco among powder-boxes brushes, jewel-cases, and
toilet-toys. What a hot haste was here! She too much blued her eyes,
and bruised the skin in wiping, intense the contest between poudre
blanche and poudre Rachel, violette and germandree, she manoeuvring
among mirrors to catch each angle of view, but with a blind
impatience; and, if she wanted something, she tripped running,
breathless: such a disease of flurry, an eruption and conflagration
of haste--for nothing; yet, all the while, with a miserable sub-
feeling of the penal creeping of time.

At four Hogarth in the Throne-room alone was now afraid that he
would not be able to utter a syllable, and wished that she would not
come; then, in a minute, began to fear that she would not, and
wondered whether he was not a deluded fool ever to have dreamed it,
he walking quick, or anon listening like a thief in that half-dark:
for few lights were shining, the hall like the after-flush of sunset
just before the dark.

At four past four he was aware of a rustling train's rush down the
steps, and now was like a man with his neck on the block, awaiting
the axe. A moment afterwards she was before him, and two moments
afterwards he was collected and hot, and a man again.

"_Dear_", he whispered at her ear, leading her by the hand to an
ottoman in a near alcove.

She, in self-defence, was repellent, breathlessly saying with
galloping haste: "No--I will not sit: you sit, and I will stand
here: do as I say, Hogarth--or I repent and go: I know you, and you
know me--or you should. Our talk must be short. You say _dear_ to
me: that is very gentle, my friend; but it was not to bandy such
words that I am here--alone--with you and your strength--Hogarth. I
come as a suppliant, to implore you--firstly for the man who is my
father--and secondly for yourself, to warn you. You are said to be
about to become the sovereign of England--"

"_I_ am?"--starting where he sat obediently before her, surprised
that she should utter the purpose then forming in his mind: "witch--
of Endor!"

"_I_ am not the witch, but an old lady in whose predictions many
Jews believe, who prophesies the return of the Jews to Palestine--
through you. Be that as it may, if it is so that you are about to
meddle with the institutions of England, oh beware, the resistence
will be terrible!"

"With respect to England I am omnipotent".

"Yes, you can starve it, but _will_ you? You won't. And listen to
your friend: there is now in London a society, enormously powerful I
believe, sworn to your destruction".

"What can they do--assassinate me?"

"Ah! who knows?"

"That would be too childish: I have sown my seed in Time, and it
will grow: two thousand little lords could hardly obliterate the
ploughing of my wrist. But you know this?"

"Richard, my father is of them".

"Ha!--I forgive him: his daughter seems to be on the other side--"

"Richard, you would not touch my hand? Ah, my friend, I warn you--!
Now--you have agitated--I have been ill--my father is of them. And
who is one of the closest associates of my father--?"

"Who?"

"The person known as Admiral Donald, whom _I_ know very well to be
Monsignor O'Hara. I think you might have been more--recondite--in
your choice of an admiral, Richard!"

"Ah?--you surprise me".

"But why? You once sent that man to me as a notebearer: certainly, a
singular selection. You must have known that he had been a convict--"

"I thought him innocent then!"

"But you know now--?"

"Yes".

"And is it not extraordinary that your ensign bears my initials,
while this man is one of your commanders?"

"I confess that I do not see the point--"

"Then you cannot know, I suppose, that it was against _me_ that his
offence was directed".

Hogarth's left lid lowered....

"But my complaint is of the present: are you not aware of the
scandal which the _Mahomet_ is now creating in the world?"

"Scandal?"

"Thrice lately whispers have reached me of unnameable iniquities
perpetrated there--Alexandria of the sixth century, Rome of the
second! I believe the rumour is widely spread in London--no woman of
the world now lands on the _Mahomet_".

"It was _you_ whom he assaulted..." Hogarth laughed and was pale at
once.

"Yes, but observe that I must go now, my friend. I have spoken of
the things which I had in my mind: there remains--my father".

"He shall go with you".

"I thank you, my Lord King; that must be in an hour: so I say,
Richard, good-bye".

"I do not suppose you can dream how dark--" he went woefully.

Of which she took no notice, but with rapid speech said: "How fair
this hall is--one supposes that the art of impressions was lost with
Solomon--like some chamber under a lake at set of sun, colour
without substance, suspended, flushed--I cannot express--"

"Sad, say".

"Ah, Richard".

"Rebekah!"

"Well, Richard, my poor friend?"

"Have pity!"

"Poor Richard!"

"I can't help it, you are all mixed up with my blood, don't go from
me. If you think it a sin--the Gentile--God will forgive the
charity. Come for ever--"

Now he sobbed once, and, as he sobbed, she was on her knees, in
pagan posture, at his knees. "Do not--" distractedly--"see, I kiss
your hand-do you doubt that I pity my love--as a mother has
compassion--?"

Now were heaving breasts, a vehement fight for breaths, wild eyes,
and a live brand in the marrow.

"You will not go! I have you! In God's name, what a mad thing--!"

"My furious king--you kiss--" the short-winded _melee_ of whispers
now suffocated in a passion of inarticulate breaths; but at that
moment one of Rebekah's chaperons, wandering out of time and place,
stood at the alcove entrance, and they, smitten into two, sprang
straight, awaked from trance, Rebekah with half a sob and half a
laugh.

And two hours later Hogarth, from the roof, saw the Jewish yacht
disappear to the East, on board being the four--and Frankl.

As he descended, he threw up his head with: "Ha!--O'Hara";
announced his immediate departure with only a secretary and two
lords-in-waiting, left a mystical note for Loveday, saying that he
had decided to go alone in quest of Margaret, and went almost
secretly, only the salute informing the _Boodah_ as he steamed away.
In reality he was in haste to face O'Hara, and the yacht's bows
turned, not eastward, but southward, under forced draught, to arrive
at the _Mahomet_ in early afternoon. As her flags indicated the Lord
of the Sea absent, there was no salute, and, landing in a panama and
jacket, in the Collector's Office he gave the sign of mum, and, led
only by a blue-jacket, went spying the depths of the _Mahomet_.

In many parts, noticing a singular odour, "What is it I smell?" he
asked.

"Incense, my Lord King", the man answered.

On the fourth floor he entered the loveliest _bijou_ chapel, the
coenaculum gold-plated, altar flower-piled, frescoed roof,
"stations" in oils, where a lonesome Moorish youth slothfully swung
and swung a thurible ruby-studded: but in vestments of no _enfant de
choeur_--of an ancient Phrygian.

Another descent and Hogarth reached a region of laugh and harping:
whereupon, dismissing his guide, he tracked the music into a nook so
rare, that he stood amazed--a Court of Love, or Mahommedan Heaven,
or grot of Omar--anything old, lovely, and devil-sacred--the air
chokingly odorous, near a fountain some brazen demon--Moloch or
Baal--buried in roses, over everything roses, bounty of flowers, a
very harvest-home of Chloris, Flora in revel; and smooth youths
bearing cups for some twenty others, all garlanded, besides those on
the marble stage; and on the stage itself a scene of dancing girls,
Sevillian, Neapolitan, Algerian, mixed with masked Satyrs, which
made Hogarth pale, while at a Herod's-table buried under fruits,
wines, flowers and gold, reclined Pat O'Hara, tonsured now, crowned
with ivy and violets, gowned in a violet toga; while under a
pendulum whose swings left whiffs of incense behind lay Harris
insensible.

As Hogarth descended into it, harp and dance ceased; some leapt to
their feet: but O'Hara sat still, gazing in a dead silence through
glairy eyes, while Hogarth, looking about, spied an electric button
in a couch, touched it, and soon a man in uniform stood at a door
above.

"Who are you?" asked Hogarth.

"John Souttar, head-telegraphist, may it please your Lordship's
Majesty".

"Make haste: tell the First Lieutenant and the Chief Constable that
the Lord of the Sea is here".

By now all the revellers were on their feet; no sound: only, the
clicking pendulum voyaged, landed an incense-whiff, and voyaged,
like traders.

Then the Lieutenant appeared, mottled and panting, and immediately
the Constable.

"Ah, Royds", said Hogarth: "is it practicable to flood this room
quickly with a hose?"

"I--should think so, my Lord King".

"See to it. First set guards at the exits".

He turned to the other: "Mr. Chief Constable, I give all present,
except, of course, your Admiral, into custody, on a charge of
misdemeanour on the high seas. The General Prosecutor will, in due
course, forward the indictment to your Summary Court. Have your men
here with handcuffs".

Again silence, till, in four minutes, two men appeared on the steps,
ball-nozzle in hand; upon which Hogarth said to O'Hara: "Follow me",
and as the two passed up, O'Hara tottery, care hanging on that
ponderous nether-lip, Hogarth whispered the hose-bearers: "Drown the
room well--man and woman--do not spare".

To O'Hara he said: "Lead to your suite", and, descending, they
presently stood in a bed-temple, the bed surrounded with mirrors,
and at the other end of the apartment an altar--pyx, six
unflickering candles, and flowers, with rail and reredos, and maxims
of St. Theresa.

Hogarth said: "Sleep two hours", and went out, turning the key.

But in half an hour O'Hara had started awake, sober, and, clapping
his palms over his face, burst into tears.

That Hogarth might be capable of impeachment before a Court of
Admirals, followed by death on the block, he feared; and he rolled,
groaning, tugging his tonsure-fringe, which, on the forehead, lay a
thin grey forelock, thinking: "Guilty wretch that I am! putrid,
unwholesome, hopeless, I have befouled the holiest: how richly do I
deserve to die!"; and even as he groaned and smote, his secret mind
weighed up the chances of Hogarth's action.

He rose, listened, rushed to the door, found it locked, tossed up
despairing hands, and tottered to the altar, at which he knelt, all
sighs, and dying fish-eyes, and sideward-languishing face, and weary
woe. Ah! how great the mountain of his iniquity: if he might be but
once more spared, his evil remainder of days he would bury in some
Carmelite retreat, with fastings and prayers; but no--he had too
much tempted the Eternal patience, the sword was out against him.
Yet he implored, he implored with groans: with half an eye,
meanwhile, on the door; and, having with regard to Hogarth a piece
of secret knowledge which he guarded deep for some possible
emergency and use (the fact of Hogarth's Jewish birth), as he
prayed, his brain with complete detachment worked out the question
whether he might now reveal this with advantage.

Hogarth found him kneeling, said "Get up", and O'Hara stood, leaning
upon the rail, too faint to stand unpropped, Hogarth contemplating
him, tapping the toes.

"Well, sir! I know all: your whole past".

"Red as crimson--!" went O'Hara faintly, with tossed hands.

"Red enough, Admiral. You are a bad old man: merit death".

"Ah, God knows it, my Lord King! I do assure you, I am a leprous
wretch: and I welcome death--I pray you, I pray Heaven, for it--"

"You should have it, if you were a better, or a younger, man: but I
will not stain the Empire of which you were chosen to be a stay, and
are the shame, with the blood of such as you. You are beneath
judgment: and that clemency which is our scutcheon I extend to you.
Live, therefore, and repent, O'Hara. I, however, you understand, now
turn from you for ever. And I discharge you like a menial, sir. See
to it that within six months you have your affairs regulated, and
send in your resignation to the Government".

He turned and went; and, as he disappeared, O'Hara straightened,
coolly went "H'm!", and took snuff. He lived, he lived: while there
is life there is fun.

Fumbling about, searching for nothing, all relieved and rescued, yet
stunned, he suddenly exclaimed: "What a noble fellow is my son
Hogarth!", and knelt again.

Hogarth in the same hour was away for England; and on the fourth
evening thence, the street-lamps just lit, stood before No. 11
Market Street, Edgware Road, come for Margaret; his carriage waiting
at a corner forty yards away; and though within the last hour he had
realized vividly that his voyage to the _Mahomet_ had given Frankl
time to remove her, or accomplish any devilish device in his power
with respect to her, he was now all prospect and expectancy.

The house was three-storied, mean, unlighted, with an "area"; from a
neighbouring window a woman screaming down to some playing children;
and under her a shop sending out that fishy fume which "drove
Asmodeus back to hell".

He rapped, received no answer, rapped again without reply, then
stepped down and back, looking up: and suddenly, faintly, but
distinctly, he heard her voice, high up--_singing_.

"O what a pretty place,
And what a graceful city,
Where the striplings are so gay,
And the ladies are so pretty ".

It was she! He ran and banged at the door: no reply.

Back again he stepped; and now a window on the top floor went up,
and she, putting out her head, twice beckoned him--listlessly, it
seemed, then drew in; and instantly--again--he heard her sing.

As once more he ran to the door, he discovered now that it was open,
darted into darkness, up uncarpeted stairs, making for that upper
room, vague light through grimy stair-windows guiding his
impassioned dash; and on the third floor entered a room with two
doors, beyond one of which was the room he sought: but that door was
locked.

At it he pushed, fumbled, called: "Margaret!" No reply. And suddenly
he heard her singing, not before, but behind him.

"Happy day! Happy day!
When Jesus washed my sins away "...

When he flew to the other door, and now found it, too, locked,
gradually in that gloom all colour faded from his face; and the
voice sang on: "Happy day! happy day"....

XLIII

THE LAND BILL

The Manifesto's "month of grace" was passing, yet nothing had been
done, second-rate Powers awaiting the Great, while the Great,
appalled by the bigness of the demand, fussed and intrigued,
consulted, fermented and proposed: but did nothing.

But at last, on the 3rd of December, the First Lord of the Treasury
laid a Bill on the table of our Commons--at the end of an Autumn-
session!

On the 3rd: and on the 1st the Lord of the Sea had been captured
near Edgware Road, the probability being that this Bill was brought
forward with a knowledge of that capture.

It consisted of three clauses and two schedules--called The Land
Purchase Bill; and it had only to be published to produce the
stormiest agitation ever known.

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