“My DEAR MARTIN: As an old inhabitantof Aureataland you will beinterested in the news I have to tell you.I also take pleasure in hoping that inspite of bygone differences, your friendlyfeelings toward myself will make youglad to hear news of my fortunes.“You are no doubt acquainted generallywith the course of events here sinceyou left us. As regards private friends,I have not indeed much to tell you.You will not be surprised to learn thatJohnny Carr (who always speaks of youwith the utmost regard) has done themost sensible thing he ever did in hislife in making Donna Antonia his wife.She is a thoroughly good girl, althoughshe seems to have a very foolish prejudiceagainst Christina. I was able toassist the young people’s plans by thegift of the late Colonel McGregor’sestates, which under our law passed tothe head of the state on that gentleman’sexecution for high treason. Youwill be amused to hear of another marriagein our circle. The doctor andMme. Devarges have made a matchof it, and society rejoices to think it hasnow heard the last of the late monsieurand his patriotic sufferings. Jones, Isuppose you know, left us about a yearago. The poor old fellow never recoveredfrom his fright on that night, tosay nothing of the cold he caught inyour draughty coal-cellar, where he tookrefuge. The bank relieved him inresponse to his urgent petitions, andthey’ve sent us out a young Puritan, towhom it would be quite in vain to applyfor a timely little loan.“I wish I could give you as satisfactoryan account of public affairs.You were more or less behind the scenesover here, so you know that to keep themachine going is by no means an easytask. I have kept it going, single-handed,for fifteen years, and thoughit’s the custom to call me a mere adventurer(and I don’t say that’s wrong),upon my word I think I’ve given thema pretty decent Government. But I’vehad enough of it by now. The fact is,my dear Martin, I’m not so young as Iwas. In years I’m not much past middleage, but I’ve had the devil of a lifeof it, and I shouldn’t be surprised if oldMarcus Whittingham’s lease was prettynearly up. At any rate, my only chance,so Anderson tells me, is to get rest, andI’m going to give myself that chance.I had thought at first of trying to find asuccessor (as I have been denied anheir of my body), and I thought of you.But, while I was considering this, I receiveda confidential proposal from theGovernment of —— [here the Presidentnamed the state of which Aureatalandhad formed part]. They werevery anxious to get back their province;at the same time, they were not at allanxious to try conclusions with me again.In short, they offered, if Aureatalandwould come back, a guarantee of localautonomy and full freedom; they wouldtake on themselves the burden of thedebt, and last, but not least, they wouldoffer the present President of the Republica compensation of five hundredthousand dollars.“I have not yet finally accepted theoffer, but I am going to do so—obtaining,as a matter of form, the sanction ofthe Assembly. I have made them doubletheir offer to me, but in the public documentsthe money is to stand at the originalfigure. This recognition of myservices, together with my little savings(restored, my dear Martin, to the washstand),will make me pretty comfortablein my old age, and leave a competencefor my widow. Aureataland has had arun alone; if there had been any grit inthe people they would have made anation of themselves. There isn’t any,and I’m not going to slave myself forthem any longer. No doubt they’ll bevery well treated, and to tell the truth,I don’t much care if they aren’t. Afterall, they’re a mongrel lot.“I know you’ll be pleased to hear ofthis arrangement, as it gives your oldmasters a better chance of getting theirmoney, for, between ourselves, they’dnever have got it out of me. At therisk of shocking your feelings, I mustconfess that your revolution only postponedthe day of repudiation.“I hoped to have asked you some dayto rejoin us here. As matters stand, Iam more likely to come and find you;for, when released, Christina and I aregoing to bend our steps to the States.And we hope to come soon. There’sa little difficulty outstanding about theterms on which the Golden House andmy other property are to pass to thenew Government; this I hope to compromiseby abating half my claim inprivate, and giving it all up in public.Also, I have had to bargain for therecognition of Johnny Carr’s rights tothe colonel’s goods. When all this issettled there will be nothing to keepme, and I shall leave here without muchreluctance. The first man I shall comeand see is you, and we’ll have somefrolics together, if my old carcass holdsout. But the truth is, my boy, I’m notthe man I was. I’ve put too muchsteam on all my life, and I must pullup now, or the boiler will burst.“Christina sends her love. She is asanxious to see you as I am. But youmust wait till I am dead to make loveto her. Ever your sincere friend,“MARCUS W. WHITTINGHAM.”
As I write, I hear that the arrangement is to be carried out. So ends Aureataland’s brief history as a nation; so ends the story of her national debt, more happily than I ever thought it would. I confess to a tender recollection of the sunny, cheerful, lazy, dishonest little place, where I spent four such eventful years. Perhaps I love it because my romance was played there, as I should love any place where I had seen the signorina. For I am not cured. I don’t go about moaning—I enjoy life. But, in spite of my affection for the President, hardly a day passes that I don’t curse that accursed tree-root.
And she? what does she feel?
I don’t know. I don’t think I ever did know. But I have had a note from her, and this is what she says:
“Fancy seeing old Jack again—poorforsaken Jack! Marcus is very kind(but very ill, poor fellow); but I shalllike to see you, Jack. Do you rememberwhat I was like? I’m still ratherpretty. This is in confidence, Jack.Marcus thinks you’ll run away from us,now we are coming to —— town [that’swhere I live]. But I don’t think youwill.“Please meet me at the depot, Jack,12.15 train. Marcus is coming by alater one, so I shall be desolate if youdon’t come. And bring that whiterose with you. Unless you produce it,I won’t speak to you.“CHRISTINA.”
Well, with another man’s wife, this is rather embarrassing. But a business man can’t leave the place where his business is because a foolish girl insists on coming there.
And as I am here, I may as well be civil and go to meet her. And, oh, well! as I happen to have the thing, I may as well take it with me. It can’t do any harm.