But the most impolitic of the administration's moves had been when it antagonized the Vesuvius Fruit Company, an organization plying10 twelve steamers and with a cash capital somewhat larger than Anchuria's surplus and debt combined.
Reasonably an established concern like the Vesuvius would become irritated at having a small, retail11 republic with no rating at all attempt to squeeze it. So when the government proxies12 applied13 for a subsidy14 they encountered a polite refusal. The president at once retaliated15 by clapping an export duty of one real per bunch on bananas—a thing unprecedented16 in fruit-growing countries. The Vesuvius Company had invested large sums in wharves18 and plantations19 along the Anchurian coast, their agents had erected20 fine homes in the towns where they had their headquarters, and heretofore had worked with the republic in good-will and with advantage to both. It would lose an immense sum if compelled to move out. The selling price of bananas from Vera Cruz to Trinidad was three reals per bunch. This new duty of one real would have ruined the fruit growers in Anchuria and have seriously discommoded the Vesuvius Company had it declined to pay it. But for some reason, the Vesuvius continued to buy Anchurian fruit, paying four reals for it; and not suffering the growers to bear the loss.
This apparent victory deceived His Excellency; and he began to hunger for more of it. He sent an emissary to request a conference with a representative of the fruit company. The Vesuvius sent Mr. Franzoni, a little, stout21, cheerful man, always cool, and whistling airs from Verdi's operas. Señor Espirition, of the office of the Minister of Finance, attempted the sandbagging in behalf of Anchuria. The meeting took place in the cabin of the Salvador, of the Vesuvius line.
Señor Espirition opened negotiations22 by announcing that the government contemplated23 the building of a railroad to skirt the alluvial24 coast lands. After touching25 upon the benefits such a road would confer upon the interests of the Vesuvius, he reached the definite suggestion that a 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 benefits from a contemplated road. As its representative he must decline to contribute fifty thousand pesos. But he would assume the responsibility of offering twenty-five.
Did Señor Espirition understand Señor Franzoni to mean twenty-five thousand pesos?
By no means. Twenty-five pesos. And in silver; not in gold.
"Your offer insults my government," cried Señor 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 the government?
This was the state of affairs in Anchuria when the winter season opened at Coralio at the end of the second year of Losada's administration. So, when the government and society made its annual exodus26 to the seashore it was evident that the presidential advent27 would not be celebrated28 by unlimited29 rejoicing. The tenth of November was the day set for the entrance into Coralio of the gay company from the capital. A narrow-gauge railroad runs twenty miles into the interior from Solitas. The government party travels by carriage from San Mateo to this road's terminal point, and proceeds by train to Solitas. From here they march in grand procession to Coralio where, on the day of their coming, festivities and ceremonies abound30. But this season saw an ominous31 dawning of the tenth of November.
Although the rainy season was over, the day seemed to hark back to reeking32 June. A fine drizzle33 of rain fell all during the forenoon. The procession entered Coralio amid a strange silence.
President Losada was an elderly man, grizzly34 bearded, with a considerable ratio of Indian blood revealed in his cinnamon complexion35. His carriage headed the procession, surrounded and guarded by Captain Cruz and his famous troop of one hundred light horse "El Ciento Huilando." Colonel Rocas followed, with a regiment36 of the regular army.
The president's sharp, beady eyes glanced about him for the expected demonstration37 of welcome; but he faced a stolid38, indifferent array of citizens. Sight-seers the Anchurians are by birth and habit, and they turned out to their last able-bodied unit to witness the scene; but they maintained an accusive silence. They crowded the streets to the very wheel ruts; they covered the red tile roofs to the eaves, but there was never a "viva" from them. No wreaths of palm and lemon branches or gorgeous strings39 of paper roses hung from the windows and balconies as was the custom. There was an apathy40, a dull, dissenting41 disapprobation, that was the more ominous because it puzzled. No one feared an outburst, a revolt of the discontents, for they had no leader. The president and those loyal to him had never even heard whispered a name among them capable of crystallizing the dissatisfaction into opposition44. No, there could be no danger. The people always procured45 a new idol before they destroyed an old one.
At length, after a prodigious46 galloping47 and curvetting of red-sashed majors, gold-laced colonels and epauletted generals, the procession formed for its annual progress down the Calle Grande to the Casa Morena, where the ceremony of welcome to the visiting president always took place.
The Swiss band led the line of march. After it pranced48 the local comandante, mounted, and a detachment of his troops. Next came a carriage with four members of the cabinet, conspicuous49 among them the Minister of War, old General Pilar, with his white moustache and his soldierly bearing. Then the president's vehicle, containing also the Ministers of Finance and State; and surrounded by Captain Cruz's light horse formed in a close double file of fours. Following them, the rest of the officials of state, the judges and distinguished50 military and social ornaments51 of public and private life.
As the band struck up, and the movement began, like a bird of ill-omen the Valhalla, the swiftest steamship52 of the Vesuvius line, glided53 into the harbour in plain view of the president and his train. Of course, there was nothing menacing about its arrival—a business firm does not go to war with a nation—but it reminded Señor Espirition and others in those carriages that the Vesuvius Fruit Company was undoubtedly54 carrying something up its sleeve for them.
By the time the van of the procession had reached the government building, Captain Cronin, of the Valhalla, and Mr. Vincenti, member of the Vesuvius Company, had landed and were pushing their way, bluff55, hearty56 and nonchalant, through the crowd on the narrow sidewalk. Clad in white linen57, big, debonair58, with an air of good-humoured authority, they made conspicuous figures among the dark mass of unimposing Anchurians, as they penetrated59 to within a few yards of the steps of the Casa Morena. Looking easily above the heads of the crowd, they perceived another that towered above the undersized natives. It was the fiery60 poll of Dicky Maloney against the wall close by the lower step; and his broad, seductive grin showed that he recognized their presence.
Dicky had attired61 himself becomingly for the festive62 occasion in a well-fitting black suit. Pasa was close by his side, her head covered with the ubiquitous black mantilla.
Mr. Vincenti looked at her attentively63.
"Botticelli's Madonna," he remarked, gravely. "I wonder when she got into the game. I don't like his getting tangled64 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 of the prospects65? It's a species of filibustering66 out of my line."
Vincenti glanced again at Dicky's head and smiled.
"Rouge67 et noir," he said. "There you have it. Make your play, gentlemen. Our money is 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 theatricals68 to me. The talk's bigger than the stage; there's a smell of gasoline in the air, and they're their own audience and scene-shifters."
They ceased talking, for General Pilar had descended69 from the first carriage and had taken his stand upon the top step of Casa Morena. As the oldest member of the cabinet, custom had decreed that he should make the address of welcome, presenting the keys of the official residence to the president at its close.
General Pilar was one of the most distinguished citizens of the republic. Hero of three wars and innumerable revolutions, he was an honoured guest at European courts and camps. An eloquent70 speaker and a friend to the people, he represented the highest type of the Anchurians.
Holding in his hand the gilt71 keys of Casa Morena, he began his address in a historical form, touching upon each administration and the advance of civilization and prosperity from the first dim striving after liberty down to present times. Arriving at the régime of President Losada, at which point, according to precedent17, he should have delivered a eulogy72 upon its wise conduct and the happiness of the people, General Pilar paused. Then he silently held up the bunch of 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, exultantly73. "Citizens of Anchuria, give thanks to the saints this night that our air is still free."
Thus disposing of Losada's administration, he abruptly74 reverted75 to that of Olivarra, Anchuria's most popular ruler. Olivarra had been assassinated76 nine years before while in the prime of life and usefulness. A faction43 of the Liberal party led by Losada himself had been accused of the deed. Whether guilty or not, it was eight years before the ambitious and scheming Losada had gained his goal.
Upon this theme General Pilar's eloquence77 was loosed. He drew the picture of the beneficent Olivarra with a loving hand. He reminded the people of the peace, the security and the happiness they had enjoyed during that period. He recalled in vivid detail and with significant contrast the last winter sojourn78 of President Olivarra in Coralio, when his appearance at their fiestas was the signal for thundering vivas of love and approbation42.
The first public expression of sentiment from the people that day followed. A low, sustained murmur79 went among them like the surf rolling 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, lighting80 a 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's getting them warmed up."
"Friends and brothers," General Pilar was saying, "could I reach out my hand this day across the lamentable81 silence of the grave to Olivarra 'the Good,' to the ruler who was one of you, whose tears fell when you sorrowed, and whose smile followed your joy—I would bring him back to you, but—Olivarra is dead—dead at the hands of a craven assassin!"
The speaker turned and gazed boldly into the carriage of the president. His arm remained extended aloft as if to sustain his peroration82. The president was listening, aghast, at this remarkable83 address of welcome. He was sunk back upon his seat, trembling with rage and dumb surprise, his dark hands tightly gripping the carriage cushions.
Half rising, he extended one arm toward the speaker, and shouted a harsh command at Captain Cruz. The leader of the "Flying Hundred" sat his horse, immovable, with folded arms, giving no sign of having heard. 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 trumpet84. "His body lies in the grave, but to the people he loved he has bequeathed his spirit—yes, more—his learning, his courage, his kindness—yes, more—his youth, his image—people of Anchuria, have you forgotten Ramon, the son of Olivarra?"
Cronin and Vincenti, watching closely, saw Dicky Maloney suddenly raise his hat, tear off his shock of red hair, leap up the steps and stand at the side of General Pilar. The Minister of War laid his arm across the young man's shoulders. All who had known President Olivarra saw again his same lion-like pose, the same frank, undaunted expression, the same high forehead with the peculiar85 line of the clustering, crisp black hair.
General Pilar was an experienced orator86. He seized the moment of breathless silence that preceded the storm.
"Citizens of Anchuria," he trumpeted87, holding aloft the keys to Casa Morena, "I am here to deliver these keys—the keys to your homes and liberty—to your chosen president. Shall I deliver them to Enrico Olivarra's assassin, or to his son?"
"Olivarra! Olivarra!" the crowd shrieked88 and howled. All vociferated the magic name—men, women, children and the parrots.
And the enthusiasm was not confined to the blood of the plebs. Colonel Rocas ascended89 the steps and laid his sword theatrically90 at young Ramon Olivarra's feet. Four members of the cabinet embraced him. Captain Cruz gave a command, and twenty of El Ciento Huilando dismounted and arranged themselves in a cordon91 about the steps of Casa Morena.
But Ramon Olivarra seized that moment to prove himself a born genius and politician. He waved those soldiers aside, and descended the steps to the street. There, without losing his dignity or the distinguished elegance92 that the loss of his red hair brought him, he took the proletariat to his bosom—the barefooted, the dirty, Indians, Caribs, babies, beggars, old, young, saints, soldiers and sinners—he missed none of them.
While this act of the drama was being presented, the scene shifters had been busy at the duties that had been assigned to them. Two of Cruz's dragoons had seized the bridle93 reins94 of Losada's horses; others formed a close guard around the carriage; and they galloped95 off with the tyrant96 and his two unpopular Ministers. No doubt a place had been prepared for them. There are a number of well-barred stone apartments in Coralio.
"Rouge wins," said Mr. Vincenti, calmly lighting another cigar.
Captain Cronin had been intently watching the vicinity of the stone steps for some time.
"Good boy!" he exclaimed suddenly, as if relieved. "I wondered if he was going to forget his Kathleen Mavourneen."
Young Olivarra had reascended the steps and spoken a few words to General Pilar. Then that distinguished veteran descended to the ground and approached Pasa, who still stood, wonder-eyed, where Dicky had left her. With his plumed98 hat in his hand, and his medals and decorations shining on his breast, the general spoke97 to her and gave her his arm, and they went up the stone steps of the Casa Morena together. And then Ramon Olivarra stepped forward and took both her hands before all the people.
And while the cheering was breaking out afresh everywhere, Captain Cronin and Mr. Vincenti turned and walked back toward the shore where the gig was waiting for them.
"There'll be another 'presidente proclamada' in the morning," said Mr. Vincenti, musingly99. "As a rule they are not as reliable as the elected ones, but this youngster seems to have some good stuff in him. He planned and manœuvred the entire campaign. Olivarra's widow, you know, was wealthy. After her husband was assassinated she went to the States, and educated her son at Yale. The Vesuvius Company hunted him up, and backed him in the little game."
"It's a glorious thing," said Cronin, half jestingly, "to be able to discharge a government, and insert one of your own choosing, in these days."
"Oh, it is only a matter of business," said Vincenti, stopping and offering the stump100 of his cigar to a monkey that swung down from a lime tree; "and that is what moves the world of to-day. That extra real on the price of bananas had to go. We took the shortest way of removing it."
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1
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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presidency
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| n.总统(校长，总经理)的职位(任期) | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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patriots
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| 爱国者，爱国主义者( patriot的名词复数 ) | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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obnoxious
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| adj.极恼人的，讨人厌的，可憎的 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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proxies
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| n.代表权( proxy的名词复数 )；（测算用的）代替物；（对代理人的）委托书；（英国国教教区献给主教等的）巡游费 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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subsidy
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| n.补助金，津贴 | |
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retaliated
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| v.报复，反击( retaliate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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alluvial
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| adj.冲积的；淤积的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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exodus
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| v.大批离去，成群外出 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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abound
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| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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grizzly
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complexion
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regiment
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demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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stolid
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strings
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apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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dissenting
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| adj.不同意的 | |
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approbation
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| n.称赞；认可 | |
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faction
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| n.宗派，小集团；派别；派系斗争 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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pranced
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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steamship
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| n.汽船，轮船 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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debonair
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| adj.殷勤的，快乐的 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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66
filibustering
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| v.阻碍或延宕国会或其他立法机构通过提案( filibuster的现在分词 )；掠夺 | |
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rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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68
theatricals
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| n.（业余性的）戏剧演出，舞台表演艺术；职业演员；戏剧的( theatrical的名词复数 )；剧场的；炫耀的；戏剧性的 | |
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69
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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70
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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71
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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72
eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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73
exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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75
reverted
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| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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76
assassinated
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| v.暗杀( assassinate的过去式和过去分词 )；中伤；诋毁；破坏 | |
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77
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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78
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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79
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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80
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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81
lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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82
peroration
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| n.（演说等之）结论 | |
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83
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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84
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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85
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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86
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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87
trumpeted
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| 大声说出或宣告（trumpet的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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88
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
theatrically
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| adv.戏剧化地 | |
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91
cordon
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| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
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92
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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94
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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95
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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96
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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97
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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98
plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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99
musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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100
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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