Manners and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, American
So great was his zeal that Sir Charles further offered to join Mr.
Collier in his search among the outlying plantations; but Mr. Collier
preferred to work alone. He accordingly set out at once, armed with
letters to the different district inspectors, and in his absence
delegated to Sir Charles the pleasant duty of caring for the wants of
Miss Cameron and his wife. Sir Charles regarded the latter as deserving
of all sympathy, for Mr. Collier, in his efforts to conceal the fact
from the Governor that Florence Cameron was responsible, or in any
way concerned, in the disappearance of the missing man, had been too
mysterious. Sir Charles was convinced that the fugitive had swindled his
brother-in-law and stolen his sister’s jewels.
The days which followed were to the Governor days and nights of strange
discoveries. He recognized that the missionaries from the great outside
world had invaded his shores and disturbed his gods and temples. Their
religion of progress and activity filled him with doubt and unrest.
“In this century,” Mr. Collier had declared, “nothing can stand still.
It’s the same with a corporation, or a country, or a man. We must either
march ahead or fall out. We can’t mark time. What?”
“Exactly--certainly not,” Sir Charles had answered. But in his heart
he knew that he himself had been marking time under these soft tropical
skies while the world was pushing forward. The thought had not disturbed
him before. Now he felt guilty. He conceived a sudden intolerance, if
not contempt, for the little village of whitewashed houses, for the
rafts of mahogany and of logwood that bumped against the pier-heads, for
the sacks of coffee piled high like barricades under the corrugated zinc
sheds along the wharf. Each season it had been his pride to note the
increase in these exports. The development of the resources of his
colony had been a work in which he had felt that the Colonial Secretary
took an immediate interest. He had believed that he was one of the
important wheels of the machinery which moved the British Empire: and
now, in a day, he was undeceived. It was forced upon him that to the
eyes of the outside world he was only a greengrocer operating on a large
scale; he provided the British public with coffee for its breakfast,
with drugs for its stomach, and with strange woods for its
dining-room furniture and walking-sticks. He combated this ignominious
characterization of his position indignantly. The new arrivals certainly
gave him no hint that they considered him so lightly. This thought
greatly comforted him, for he felt that in some way he was summoning
to his aid all of his assets and resources to meet an expert and final
valuation. As he ranged them before him he was disturbed and happy to
find that the value he placed upon them was the value they would have
in the eyes of a young girl--not a girl of the shy, mother-obeying,
man-worshipping English type, but a girl such as Miss Cameron seemed to
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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