Kaiuolani

As the disappointed lover rode away, down the avenue, toward the city in the foreground, Kaiuolani hastened to the window above and peering from behind the half-drawn curtains stole a last, determined glance. Now that he had gone, her heart quaked and all the world had been a thankless price could she have recalled those words; and sinking unconsciously to the floor, a hard-said prayer inaudibly escaped her cold-drawn lips.

“How could I! God forgive me!” cried she; in a voice that startled Uena from the nearby watch she had vigorously maintained.

“Please help me to my horse,” demanded Kaiuolani, of her trusted maid; “I must join the procession; the Daughters will conjure alarm at my tardiness. Is Ipo in readiness? Where are the footmen? Why do you look so serious, Uena?—I wish you could accompany me.”

Directly the princess had gone Elmsford drove up, proposing to ask Sir Charles to share his carriage in the procession. He had just left the palace,—where the officers, dignitaries and foreign diplomats were already assembling,—and brought much of interest to say to his pleased and curious host.

“Is the representation complete?” asked Prentiss, having accepted the invitation and seated himself at Elmsford’s side.

“Oh, by the way,” continued he, changing the subject, as the driver started off, “hold, a minute; I should like to give some instructions.”

“With pleasure,” replied Elmsford.

“Hislop? Here, please,” commanded Sir Charles, addressing a shabbily departing attendant. “You and as many of the household as like are at liberty to attend the ceremonies. You can drive down, and—I should be pleased to see you all going.”

“Thank you,” answered the aged derelict, without disclosing any apparent nervousness.

“That is all, Mr. Elmsford: I thank you for the kindness,” said Prentiss, returning his attention to the puffed-up host at his side.

“The attendance was complete,” began Elmsford, resuming an interrupted conversation, “but I doubt if it shall remain thus, through the day.”

“Why so, my good Elmsford?” asked Prentiss, quickly, being a little surprised.

“I question Harvenoiq’s good faith,” replied the cool Britisher, without the least hesitation. “He is a slippery fellow—as all Americans are, so far as my experience goes.”

“The minister has no authority, however; and, furthermore, the country he represents is not sufficiently settled in policy to make a specific demand—outside of thread and needles, perhaps,” replied the long ago naturalized Hawaiian, confidently, and with no thought of national interference from that source.

“That is quite true,” continued Elmsford, “and the very fact that its foreign representatives are wholly unbound by conservative rules gives designing politicians—appointed to self-ridding outside posts—an opportunity to make shift any kind of wholesome or unwholesome interference. That sort of diplomat is the most dangerous of all grouty pretenders; and once a decisive step is taken the false patriotism of his hot-headed countrymen will lead their awfully elusive government into dire straits, even at the cost of shame, to avoid what a bragadocia nature shuns most of all; the possibility of having to face a backing down and out’s ever scornful finger.”

“But Harvenoiq is weak,—too puerile to rise above the taint of flattery,—and his country, a republic? My friend, the dawn of empire in America is a thing our remotest posterity need not presume to see,” remarked the other, with the certainty of a pent up and unmistakable conviction.

“And should that particular star chance to peep above their checkered horizon—well, there is one consolation; John Bull shall see it safely set. What an inspiration; the very thought—touch of old Jack! The unwinding may be slow, but sooner or later its folds shall make common the lot of all this earth’s deserving. It is invincible, traditionally grand!”

“Ergo!” fairly shouted the, for the moment, unconscious disallegiant. “But what about those he disdains? You know, John is not bestowing his patronage except the vintage be satisfying. Struggling principalities, too small or tasteless to tempt—for instance, it is not so long since Mr. Bull deliberately refused our own, these very islands, as a gift. Come; should we not be content?”

“Until routed, I should say; I myself dislike anything that smacks too much of encouraged activity.”

“You are the right sort, Elmsford: only you are, if I may say it, a little too suspicious. Let the world wag on; each, active or passive, tolerable or intolerable, shall get his due, even his Americanism.”

“And that’s no play; the force is there; eighty millions—no; they lack consistency. England is bearer. The cross! Brotherhood! Finality! Sweet, oh sweet eternity!”

“Aye, aye; good Samaritan, vain prophet; you forget the lesson of to-day’s events; you shall see a queen vouchsafe the blessings of man, providential mortal. How thankful!”

“Not I,” replied Elmsford, as he looked round at the drawn, open-mouthed that everywhere waited, they knew not what.

Nor did clamor avail the credulous or disturb those who reasoned. A few gathered together and ordered while the multitude gaped in ignorance. A thousand strong hearts quaked mute and aimless amid the concord of intellectual sway, utterly unable to invoke a bloodless right or to arrest their traditional despoilation.

At the palace were congregated all those who count, or that had not their interests elsewhere. Ihoas consoled with the queen, and Gutenborj supported her in the trifling contentions that seemed to arise on every hand.

The throne room had been set apart as the most agreeable and more proper place for the signing of the big parchment roll that should, from the doorstep, at high noon, be proclaimed the sovereign law of Hawaii; and shortly before the hour of promulgation had arrived, or the procession that was to carry hence the unsigned document had moved, the queen proceeded to seat herself in the olden chair of state. As the venerable woman marched down through the assembled throng a thrill of pride ran triumphantly over all; there were present a host of admirers and all the dignitaries who were known not to be engaged with the doings on the outside. Ministers and appointees of all nations represented at the capital were there; the Royalists came in force, and disgruntled Kamehamehas buried for the occasion what jealousy may have lingered; Patriots filled the room to overflowing, and the open windows wafted afar their happy approbation.

A long line of guards stood like statues on either side the passageway that led from the queen’s boudoir to the respected seat of might, and as the stately sovereign, led by bearers of tall Kahili,—the significant emblem of justice,—made her way down the cleared aisle all men bowed their heads, and a silent prayer filled the hearts of those who appreciated the force of will.

Climbing the short, easy stairs that led to empire’s sway a myriad clustering, golden oo feathers wavered and fluttered in the soft light that glistened and shadowed in the folds of her traditional garb. It was the cloak of divinity, and tens of thousands had spent their lives in the weaving, and the gathering; centuries had come and gone since its beginning; the touch of its hem had been held a privileged honor; the long train widened and spread before a worshipping multitude, and yet beneath its royal shelter there beat the heart of a human—a woman who prized the welfare of a nation. Slowly but deliberately ascending, she calmly turned and resolutely faced an eager, attentive throng.

No man or woman there would have changed that scene: even Bender flushed with the pride of privilege, and could he recall the last hours would have surrendered to the heed of righteousness. Only Harvenoiq winced and labored with the strain of abeyance. He had rushed upon the head of state, would have snatched away the jewelled scepter, and placed the crown upon his own ungrateful brow. The claims of fitness to him bore no significance, and an ugly frown wrinkled his hard-set countenance.

Calmly surveying the expectant, upturned faces all about her, Liliuokolani in a deep, convincing voice announced the purpose of the meeting, and ordered the ministry to attend her at the throne. Thus none was absent, and without a hesitation all approached and seated themselves at either side the minister of finance in front; whereat her majesty announced:

“It is my privilege and, I trust, your pleasure this day in the presence of all nationalities here assembled to execute and publish to all the world a new constitution, the supreme law of this our destined land. Is there one who would protest?”

A breathless silence overcast the room. Not a sound disturbed the refreshing air that fanned their flushed and eager faces. Bender’s heart beat hotly with the delights of a quickened transformation. His whole soul went over to the delectable, and not a member shrank at the thought of doing his bounden duty. Only stillness seemed a fitting answer, and then rudely and arrogantly the American minister stalked into the open, close at the queen’s place. A guard seized and held him back, as he shouted and brandished, huskily:

“I deny the right. It is the people’s business!”

The queen made no answer, and Gutenborj hastened to hustle the diplomat from the scene of his unpardonable behavior.

“You are mad, man,” said the roused planter, thrusting the slight, half-turned fellow aside. “At least have the decency to save your country’s shame; rude, untutored lout, that you proclaim yourself to be.”

“Who are you, that you would dictate? I am sponsor here, I would have you know, ungrateful beggar,” replied Harvenoiq, tearing himself loose, and stamping away, toward a convenient exit, the while firing and fuming with ungoverned rage.

With Harvenoiq, a foreign minister’s disappearance, the audience broke into an involuntary chatter, and Gutenborj quite forgetting himself earnestly begged her majesty to grant him the privilege of apologizing on behalf of the country to whose flag he as a matter of convenience still bore allegiance. Without condescending to reply, the farcical nature of the whole situation forced itself upon the queen’s immediate attention to such extent that she quite neglected for the time being to restore order or proceed with the business at hand.

The pause occasioned by Harvenoiq’s disorderly conduct not only gave doubtful and weak-kneed local ministers a chance to question in their own minds and parley with each other the propriety of continuing in the absence of one so vital to their welfare, but it at once became the signal for casual though earnest remarks on the part of others: if less concerned about material interests, then more deeply conscious of a wounded dignity.

“It is a most unpardonable offense,” wildly urged the redoubtable Mr. Earnest de Seionoff, resident charge d’ affairs and minister plenipotentiary of the French republic, in discussing the circumstance with Sir James S. Hardthrust, diplomatic representative from Great Britain.

“A trifle enthusiastic, my good Mr. Seionoff. I dare say, no harm is meant or ill shall come of it. We, who are wise, must make due allowance—I am heartily pleased with the queen. How does she impress you, this morning, brother ambassador?” replied the discreet Englishman, in a vain attempt to allay the Frenchman’s heated nerves.

“It is not for me to answer while in a state of very great upsetting. The American: he has given cause for the most severe treating about his disciplinableness. We are spokesmen for our speaking and cannot hold ourselves within ourselves—”

“I shouldn’t be a bit disturbed by the Honorable Mr. Harvenoiq’s mistakes,” intercepted the judicious Hardthrust, sympathetically. “He will make amends—just give him a chance.”

“Oh! You are too most easy of feeling. It is only a Frenchman who can see, who can do——”

“Have you—pardon the digression—seen a draft of the proposed new constitution, Mr. Seionoff?”

“Constitution? Constitution? I have looked at only insult. It is most unbearable, this unfeeling of politeness; I must make myself amends,” shouted the excited diplomat, huskily in his neighbor’s dull ears, the while dancing about like a suddenly decapitated fowl.

“Politeness will follow development: it is not so long, you know, since the great La Fayette discovered America,” ventured the thoughtful Britisher, good-naturedly.

“La Fayette! Oh, the too not far seeing. Only for without him we had already a big empire where now is but confusion for money. It is a large disgrace in the world. La Fayette! La Fayette!”

The decidedly heated though close conversation between the two foreign diplomats significantly escaped the attention of everybody there, excepting only one. The queen remained too deeply absorbed with consciousness and suspicion to observe or realize the purport of any the incidental and chaotic surroundings. Bender’s keen eye and ready ear, on the other hand, divined everything, even the pained, telltale look that disturbed her majesty’s presence.

Surmising Great Britain’s careless attitude and France’s unpreparedness, the shrewd minister of finance dismissed with a sweep of the intellect any possible thought of interference from either one or the other. With renewed courage and lessening respect his temporary and sudden patriotism began rapidly to wane. After all it seemed but a matter of self-provision. Why concede anything? The plans were laid, and withal a force stood ready to do his bidding. Harvenoiq had blundered himself into the blame, why not drive to a finish the resolution that seemed all but a reality.

Deprived of an ideal the world seemed cold and dreary: in one opportune moment ambition claimed and drove its faltering victim. The blood of royalty had but rosed the pathway to success.