Cinderella, and Other StoriesDavis, Richard Harding
General
Cinderella, and Other Stories
Davis, Richard Harding
United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"Your message was so general in its nature, that it allowed my
imagination full play, and I sent on what I thought would please the
papers, and, what was much more important to me, would advertise the
Y.C.C. stock. This I have been doing while waiting for material from
you. Not having a clear idea of the dimensions or population of Opeki,
it is possible that I have done you and your newspaper friend some
injustice. I killed off about a hundred American residents, two hundred
English, because I do not like the English, and a hundred French. I blew
up old Ollypybus and his palace with dynamite, and shelled the city,
destroying some hundred thousand dollars' worth of property, and then I
waited anxiously for your friend to substantiate what I had said. This
he has most unkindly failed to do. I am very sorry, but much more so for
him than for myself, for I, my dear friend, have cabled on to a man in
San Francisco, who is one of the directors of the Y.C.C, to sell all my
stock, which he has done at one hundred and two, and he is keeping the
money until I come. And I leave Octavia this afternoon to reap my just
reward. I am in about twenty thousand dollars on your little war, and I
feel grateful. So much so that I will inform you that the ship of war
_Kaiser_ has arrived at San Francisco, for which port she sailed
directly from Opeki. Her captain has explained the real situation, and
offered to make every amend for the accidental indignity shown to our
flag. He says he aimed at the cannon, which was trained on his vessel,
and which had first fired on him. But you must know, my dear Stedman,
that before his arrival, war vessels belonging to the several powers
mentioned in my revised dispatches, had started for Opeki at full speed,
to revenge the butchery of the foreign residents. A word, my dear young
friend, to the wise is sufficient. I am indebted to you to the extent
of twenty thousand dollars, and in return I give you this kindly advice.
Leave Opeki. If there is no other way, swim. But leave Opeki."
The sun, that night, as it sank below the line where the clouds seemed
to touch the sea, merged them both into a blazing, blood-red curtain,
and colored the most wonderful spectacle that the natives of Opeki had
ever seen. Six great ships of war, stretching out over a league of sea,
stood blackly out against the red background, rolling and rising, and
leaping forward, flinging back smoke and burning sparks up into the air
behind them, and throbbing and panting like living creatures in their
race for revenge. From the south, came a three-decked vessel, a great
island of floating steel, with a flag as red as the angry sky behind it,
snapping in the wind. To the south of it plunged two long low-lying
torpedo boats, flying the French tri-color, and still further to the
north towered three magnificent hulls of the White Squadron. Vengeance
was written on every curve and line, on each straining engine rod, and
on each polished gun muzzle.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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