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"Because then I'd be somewhere else than in this infernal hell- hole of a black-and-tan nursery of revolution, fever, and trouble!" "I think it one of the loveliest spots I've ever seen," said she loftily. "How long have you been here?" "On this rock? Perhaps five minutes." "Not on the rock. In Caracuna?" "Quite a long time. Nearly a fortnight."
From the squat cathedral tower the bells clang and jangle defiance to the Adversary, temporarily drowning out the street tumult in which the yells of the lottery venders, the braying of donkeys, the whoops of the cabmen, and the blaring of the little motor cars with big horns, combine to render Caracuna the noisiest capital in the world.
Pruyn chases the terrified germ through the streets of Caracuna?" queried the irrepressible Polly. "You'll probably have to move to the legation, where you will be very welcome, but none too comfortable. The place has been practically closed and sealed for two months." "I'm sure we should bother you dreadfully," said the girl. "It would bother me more dreadfully if you got into any trouble.
The Dutch diplomats, who are not as diplomatic in speech as I am, would tell you, if there were any of them left here to tell anything, that Von Plaanden's intrigues brought on the present break with them. So there you have a brief, but reliable 'History of Our Times in the Island Republic of Caracuna." "Highly informative and improving to the untutored mind," Miss Brewster complimented him.
Yet they were not porters; so much, even at a great distance, their apparel proclaimed. The pirates of porterdom do not get up to meet five-o'clock-in-the-morning specials in Caracuna. The little group gathered close at the pier, then separated, two going aboard, and the others disappearing into sundry streets and reappearing presently at the water-front with other figures.
"A jail is hospitable. But one doesn't stay in it when one can get out." "If Caracuna were the jail and I the 'one, one might. I quite love it here." He made a sharp gesture of annoyance. "Don't be childish," he said. "Childish?
Commercial travelers of the tropics have a saying: "There are worse hotels in the world than the Kast but why take the trouble?" And, year upon year, they return there for reasons connected with the other hostelries of Caracuna, which I forbear to specify. To Miss Polly Brewster, the Kast was a place of romance.
"All the town is ringing with the news. It just came in to-night. Holland has declared a blockade until Caracuna apologizes for the interference with its cable." "And nothing can pass?" asked Mr. Brewster. "Nothing but an aeroplane or a submarine." There was a silence. Miss Polly Brewster broke it with a curious question: "What day is day after to-morrow?"
"That's not being a very kind or courteous beetle man." "I owe Mr. Brewster no courtesy." "And you pay only where you owe? Just, but hardly amiable. Well, you owe me nothing but will you do it for me?" "Yes." "Without even knowing what it is?" "Yes." "In return you shall have your heart's desire." "Doubted." "Isn't the dearest wish of your soul to drive me out of Caracuna?" "Hum! Well er yes.
Night fell with the iron clangor of bells, and day broke to the accompaniment of further insensate jangling, for Caracuna City has the noisiest cathedral in the world; and still the graceful gray yacht Polly lay in the harbor at Puerto del Norte, hemmed in by a thin film of smoke along the horizon where the Dutch warship promenaded.
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