“the most important person in the west indies.”
I ventured to ask him how many of the more important nations were involved with the matters at present in his despatch-box; and he said lightly, as though the concern in hand was a mere bagatelle, that only the United States, Great Britain and Germany were occupying his attention at the moment.
The Model Man said:
“I suppose you’ll soon knock off a flea-bite like that?”
And the Governor’s own clerk answered:
“Yes, I fancy so, unless any unforeseen hitch happens. Negotiations are pending.”
I liked his last sentence particularly. It smacked so strongly of miles of red tape and months of official delay.
When we reached St. Christopher, it was currently reported that the Governor’s own clerk had simply come to settle a dispute between two negro landowners concerning a fragment of the island rather smaller than a table-napkin; but personally I doubt not this was a blind, under cover of which he secretly pushed forward those pending negotiations. He certainly had fine diplomatic instincts, and a sound view, from a political standpoint, of the value of veracity.
When we cast out anchor off Basseterre, St. Christopher, the Treasure hurried to me in some sorrow. He had proposed going ashore, with his Enchantress and her mother, to show them the sights, but now, to his dismay, he found that unforeseen official duties would keep him on the ship during our brief sojourn here. With anxiety almost pathetic, therefore, he entrusted the Enchantress to me, and commended her mother to the Doctor’s care. I felt the compliment, and assured him that I would simply devote myself to her—platonically withal; but the Doctor was not quite so hearty about her mother. However, he must behave like a gentleman, whether he felt inclined to do so or not, which the Treasure knew, and, therefore, felt safe.