The Crusade of the Excelsior | Page 9

a mild and debasing equality among themselves,
mitigated only by the concessions of occasional gallantry. To them,
Mrs. Brimmer was a rather pretty, refined, well-dressed woman, whose
languid pallor, aristocratic spareness, and utter fastidiousness did not,
however, preclude a certain nervous intensity which occasionally lit up
her weary eyes with a dangerous phosphorescence, under their brown
fringes. Equally acceptable was Miss Chubb, her friend and traveling
companion; a tall, well-bred girl, with faint salmon-pink hair and
complexion, that darkened to a fiery brown in her shortsighted eyes.
Between these ladies and Mrs. Markham and Miss Keene existed an
enthusiastic tolerance, which, however, could never be mistaken for a
generous rivalry. Of the greater popularity of Miss Keene as the
recognized belle of the Excelsior there could be no question; nor was
there any from Mrs. Brimmer and her friend. The intellectual
preeminence of Mrs. Markham was equally, and no less ostentatiously,
granted. "Mrs. Markham is so clever; I delight to hear you converse
together," Mrs. Brimmer would say to Senor Perkins, "though I'm sure
I hardly dare talk to her myself. She might easily go into the
lecture-field--perhaps she expects to do so in California. My dear
Clarissa"--to Miss Chubb--"don't she remind you a little of Aunt Jane
Winthrop's governess, whom we came so near taking to Paris with us,
but couldn't on account of her defective French?"
When "The Excelsior Banner and South Sea Bubble" was published in
lat. 15 N. and long. 105 W., to which Mrs. Markham contributed the
editorials and essays, and Senor Perkins three columns of sentimental
poetry, Mrs. Brimmer did not withhold her praise of the fair editor.
When the Excelsior "Recrossed the Line," with a suitable tableau

vivant and pageant, and Miss Keene as California, in white and blue,
welcomed from the hands of Neptune (Senor Perkins) and Amphitrite
(Mrs. Markham) her fair sister, Massachusetts (Mrs. Brimmer), and
New York (Miss Chubb), Mrs. Brimmer was most enthusiastic of the
beauty of Miss Keene.
On the present morning Mr. Banks found his disappointment at not
going into Mazatlan languidly shared by Mrs. Brimmer. That lady even
made a place for him on the cushions beside her, as she pensively
expressed her belief that her husband would be still more disappointed.
"Mr. Brimmer, you know, has correspondents at Mazatlan, and no
doubt he has made particular arrangements for our reception and
entertainment while there. I should not wonder if he was very indignant.
And if, as I fear, the officials of the place, knowing Mr. Brimmer's
position--and my own connections--have prepared to show us social
courtesies, it may be a graver affair. I shouldn't be surprised if our
Government were obliged to take notice of it. There is a
Captain-General of port--isn't there? I think my husband spoke of him."
"Oh, he's probably been shot long ago," broke in Mr. Crosby cheerfully.
"They put in a new man every revolution. If the wrong party's got in,
they've likely shipped your husband's correspondent too, and might be
waiting to get a reception for you with nigger soldiers and ball
cartridges. Shouldn't wonder if the skipper got wind of something of
the kind, and that's why he didn't put in. If your husband hadn't been so
well known, you see, we might have slipped in all right."
Mrs. Brimmer received this speech with the languid obliviousness of
perception she usually meted out to this chartered jester.
"Do you really think so, Mr. Crosby? And would you have been afraid
to leave your cabin--or are you joking? You know I never know when
you are. It is very dreadful, either way."
But here Miss Chubb, with ready tact, interrupted any possible retort
from Mr. Crosby.

"Look," she said, pointing to some of the other passengers, who, at a
little distance, had grouped about the first mate in animated discussion.
"I wonder what those gentlemen are so interested about. Do go and
see."
Before he could reply, Mr. Winslow, detaching himself from the group,
hurried towards them.
"Here's a row: Hurlstone is missing! Can't be found anywhere! They
think he's fallen overboard!"
The two frightened exclamations from Miss Chubb and Mrs. Brimmer
diverted attention from the sudden paleness of Miss Keene, who had
impulsively approached them.
"Impossible!" she said hurriedly.
"I fear it is so," said Brace, who had followed Winslow; "although," he
added in a lower tone, with an angry glance at the latter, "that brute
need not have blustered it out to frighten everybody. They're searching
the ship again, but there seems no hope. He hasn't been seen since last
night. He was supposed to be in his state-room--but as nobody missed
him--you know how odd and reserved he was--it was only when the
steward couldn't find him, and began to inquire, that everybody
remembered they hadn't seen him