"I am," said a man in blue overalls.
"Well," said I, "why don"t you fix those steam-fittings?"
There was a silence. The man in the silk hat smirked.
"Well?" said I.
"Come, come, that"s all right," said the man in the silk hat. "These men know their business without you tellin" them."
"Who are you?" I demanded, sharply.
"Oh, I"m just a walkin" delegate," he replied, with a sneer. "There"s a strike in New York and I come over here to tie this here exposition up. See?"
"You mean to say you won"t let these men finish their work?" I asked, thunderstruck.
"That"s about it, young man," he said, coolly.
Furious, I glanced at my watch, then at the thermometers, which now registered only 75. Already I could hear the first-comers of the audience arriving in the body of the hall. Already a stage-hand was turning up the footlights and dragging chairs and tables. .h.i.ther and thither.
"What will you take to stay and attend to those steam-pipes?" I demanded, desperately.
"It can"t be done nohow," observed the man in the silk hat. "That New York strike is good for a month yet." Then, turning to the workmen, he nodded and, to my horror, the whole gang filed out after him, turning deaf ears to my entreaties and threats.
There was a deathly silence, then Sir Peter exploded into a vivid shower of words. The Countess, pale as a ghost, gave me a heart-breaking look. The Crown-Prince wept.
"Great Heaven!" I cried; "the thermometers have fallen to 70!"
The King of Finland sat down on a chair and pressed his hands over his eyes. Baron de Beca.s.se ran round and round, uttering subdued and plaintive screams; Sir Peter swore steadily.
"Gentlemen," I cried, desperately, "we must save those eggs! They are on the very eve of hatching! Who will volunteer?"
"To do what?" moaned the Crown-Prince.
"I"ll show you," I exclaimed, running to the incubators and beckoning to the Baron to aid me.
In a moment we had rolled out the great egg, made a nest on the stage floor with the bales of cotton-wool, and placed the egg in it. One after another we rolled out the remaining eggs, building for each its nest of cotton; and at last the five enormous eggs lay there in a row behind the green curtain.
"Now," said I, excitedly, to the King, "you must get up on that egg and try to keep it warm."
The King began to protest, but I would take no denial, and presently his Majesty was perched up on the great egg, gazing foolishly about at the others, who were now all climbing up on their allotted eggs.
"Great Heaven!" muttered the King, as Sir Peter settled down comfortably on his egg, "I am willing to give life and fortune for the sake of science, but I can"t bear to hatch out eggs like a bird!"
The Crown-Prince was now sitting patiently beside the Baron de Beca.s.se.
"I feel in my bones," he murmured, "that I"m about to hatch something.
Can"t you hear a tapping on the sh.e.l.l of your egg, Baron?"
"Parbleu!" replied the Baron. "The sh.e.l.l is moving under me."
It certainly was; for, the next moment, the Baron fell into his egg with a crash and a m.u.f.fled shriek, and floundered out, dripping, yellow as a canary.
"N"importe!" he cried, excitedly. "Allons! Save the eggs! Hurrah! Vive la science!" And he scrambled up on the fourth egg and sat there, arms folded, sublime courage transfiguring him from head to foot.
We all gave him a cheer, which was hushed as the stage-manager ran in, warning us that the audience was already a.s.sembled and in place.
"You"re not going to raise the curtain while we"re sitting, are you?"
demanded the King of Finland, anxiously.
"No, no," I said; "sit tight, your Majesty. Courage, gentlemen! Our vindication is at hand!"
The Countess glanced at me with startled eyes; I took her hand, saluted it respectfully, and then quietly led her before the curtain, facing an ocean of upturned faces across the flaring footlights.
She stood a moment to acknowledge the somewhat ragged applause, a calm smile on her lips. All her courage had returned; I saw that at once.
Very quietly she touched her lips to the _eau-sucree_, laid her ma.n.u.script on the table, raised her beautiful head, and began:
"That the ux is a living bird I am here before you to prove--"
A sharp report behind the curtain drowned her voice. She paled; the audience rose amid cries of excitement.
"What was it?" she asked, faintly.
"Sir Peter has hatched out his egg," I whispered. "Hark! There goes another egg!" And I ran behind the curtain.
Such a scene as I beheld was never dreamed of on land or sea. Two enormous young uxen, all over gigantic pin-feathers, were wandering stupidly about. Mounted on one was Sir Peter Grebe, eyes starting from his apoplectic visage; on the other, clinging to the bird"s neck, hung the Baron de Beca.s.se.
Before I could move, the two remaining eggs burst, and a pair of huge, scrawny fledglings rose among the debris, bearing off on their backs the King and Crown-Prince.
"Help!" said the King of Finland, faintly. "I"m falling off!"
I sprang to his aid, but tripped on the curtain-spring. The next instant the green curtain shot up, and there, revealed to that vast and distinguished audience, roamed four enormous chicks, bearing on their backs the most respected and exclusive aristocracy of Europe.
The Countess Suzanne turned with a little shriek of horror, then sat down in her chair, laid her lovely head on the table, and very quietly fainted away, unconscious of the frantic cheers which went roaring to the roof.
This, then, is the _true_ history of the famous exposition scandal.
And, as I have said, had it not been for the presence in that audience of two American reporters n.o.body would have known what all the world now knows--n.o.body would have read of the marvellous feats of bareback riding indulged in by the King of Finland--n.o.body would have read how Sir Peter Grebe steered his mount safely past the footlights only to come to grief over the prompter"s box.
But this _is_ scandal. And, as for the charming Countess Suzanne d"Alzette, the public has heard all that it is ent.i.tled to hear, and much that it is not ent.i.tled to hear.
However, on second thoughts, perhaps the public is ent.i.tled to hear a little more. I will therefore say this much--the shock of astonishment which stunned me when the curtain flew up, revealing the King-bestridden uxen, was nothing to the awful blow which smote me when the Count d"Alzette leaped from the orchestra, over the footlights, and bore away with him the fainting form of his wife, the lovely Countess d"Alzette.
I sometimes wonder--but, as I have repeatedly observed, this dull and pedantic narrative of fact is no vehicle for sentimental soliloquy. It is, then, merely sufficient to say that I took the earliest steamer for kinder sh.o.r.es, spurred on to haste by a venomous cable-gram from the Smithsonian, repudiating me, and by another from Bronx Park, ordering me to spend the winter in some inexpensive, poisonous, and un.o.btrusive spot, and make a collection of isopods. The island of Java appeared to me to be as poisonously un.o.btrusive and inexpensive a region as I had ever heard of; a steamer sailed from Antwerp for Batavia in twenty-four hours. Therefore, as I say, I took the night-train for Brussels, and the steamer from Antwerp the following evening.
Of my uneventful voyage, of the happy and successful quest, there is little to relate. The Javanese are frolicsome and hospitable. There was a girl there with features that were as delicate as though chiselled out of palest amber; and I remember she wore a most wonderful jewelled, helmet-like head-dress, and jingling bangles on her ankles, and when she danced she made most graceful and poetic gestures with her supple wrists--but that has nothing to do with isopods, absolutely nothing.