The Consul | Page 6

need.
To a statesman of Hanley's astuteness, the largeness of Livingstone's
contribution to the campaign fund was self- explanatory.
After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board the
SERAPIS seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto
Banos, a compelling attraction. Before the anchors hit the water, they
were in the launch. On reaching shore, they made at once for the
consulate. There were many cables they wished to start on their way by
wireless; cables to friends, to newspapers, to the government.
Jose, the Colombian clerk, appalled by the unprecedented invasion of
visitors, of visitors so distinguished, and Marshall, grateful for a chance
to serve his fellow- countrymen, and especially his countrywomen,
were ubiquitous, eager, indispensable. At Jose's desk the great senator,
rolling his cigar between his teeth, was using, to Jose's ecstasy, Jose's
own pen to write a reassuring message to the White House. At the
consul's desk a beautiful creature, all in lace and pearls, was struggling
to compress the very low opinion she held of a hurricane into ten words.
On his knee, Henry Cairns, the banker, was inditing instructions to his
Wall Street office, and upon himself Livingstone had taken the
responsibility of replying to the inquiries heaped upon Marshall's desk,
from many newspapers.
It was just before sunset, and Marshall produced his tea things, and the
young person in pearls and lace, who was Miss Cairns, made tea for the
women, and the men mixed gin and limes with tepid water. The consul
apologized for proposing a toast in which they could not join. He
begged to drink to those who had escaped the perils of the sea. Had
they been his oldest and nearest friends, his little speech could not have
been more heart-felt and sincere. To his distress, it moved one of the
ladies to tears, and in embarrassment he turned to the men.
"I regret there is no ice," he said, "but you know the rule of the tropics;
as soon as a ship enters port, the ice- machine bursts."
"I'll tell the steward to send you some, sir," said Livingstone, "and as

long as we're here."
The senator showed his concern.
"As long as we're here?" he gasped.
"Not over two days," answered the owner nervously. "The chief says it
will take all of that to get her in shape. As you ought to know, Senator,
she was pretty badly mauled."
The senator gazed blankly out of the window. Beyond it lay the naked
coral reefs, the empty sky, and the ragged palms of Porto Banos.
Livingstone felt that his legation was slipping from him.
"That wireless operator," he continued hastily, "tells me there is a most
amusing place a few miles down the coast, Las Bocas, a sort of Coney
Island, where the government people go for the summer. There's surf
bathing and roulette and cafes chantants. He says there's some Spanish
dancers----"
The guests of the SERAPIS exclaimed with interest; the senator smiled.
To Marshall the general enthusiasm over the thought of a ride on a
merry-go-round suggested that the friends of Mr. Livingstone had
found their own society far from satisfying.
Greatly encouraged, Livingstone continued, with enthusiasm:
"And that wireless man said," he added, "that with the launch we can
get there in half an hour. We might run down after dinner." He turned
to Marshall.
"Will you join us, Mr. Consul?" he asked, "and dine with us, first?"
Marshall accepted with genuine pleasure. It had been many months
since he had sat at table with his own people. But he shook his head
doubtfully.
"I was wondering about Las Bocas," he explained, "if your going there
might not get you in trouble at the next port. With a yacht, I think it is
different, but Las Bocas is under quarantine"
There was a chorus of exclamations.
"It's not serious," Marshall explained. "There was bubonic plague there,
or something like it. You would be in no danger from that. It is only
that you might be held up by the regulations. Passenger steamers can't
land any one who has been there at any other port of the
West Indies. The English are especially strict. The Royal Mail won't
even receive any one on board here without a certificate from the
English consul saying he has not visited Las Bocas. For an American

they would require the same guarantee from me. But I don't think the
regulations extend to yachts. I will inquire. I don't wish to deprive you
of any of the many pleasures of Porto Banos," he added, smiling, "but
if you were refused a landing at your next port I would blame myself."
"It's all right," declared Livingstone decidedly. "It's just as you say;
yachts and warships are exempt. Besides, I