Queen Elizabeth, attended by Ophelia and Xanthippe, was walking along
the river-bank. It was a beautiful autumn day, although, owing to
certain climatic peculiarities of Hades, it seemed more like
midsummer. The mercury in the club thermometer was nervously
clicking against the top of the crystal tube, and poor Cerberus was
having all he could do with his three mouths snapping up the
pestiferous little shades of by-gone gnats that seemed to take an
almost unholy pleasure in alighting upon his various noses and ears.
Ophelia was doing most of the talking.
"I am sure I have never wished to ride one of them," she said,
positively. "In the first place, I do not see where the pleasure of
it comes in, and, in the second, it seems to me as if skirts must be
dangerous. If they should catch in one of the pedals, where would I
be?"
"In the hospital shortly, methinks," said Queen Elizabeth.
"Well, I shouldn't wear skirts," snapped Xanthippe. "If a man's wife
can't borrow some of her husband's clothing to reduce her peril to a
minimum, what is the use of having a husband? When I take to the
bicycle, which, in spite of all Socrates can say, I fully intend to
do, I shall have a man's wheel, and I shall wear Socrates' old dress-
clothes. If Hades doesn't like it, Hades may suffer."
"I don't see how Socrates' clothes will help you," observed Ophelia.
"He wore skirts himself, just like all the other old Greeks. His
toga would be quite as apt to catch in the gear as your skirts."
Xanthippe looked puzzled for a moment. It was evident that she had
not thought of the point which Ophelia had brought up--strong-minded
ladies of her kind are apt sometimes to overlook important links in
such chains of evidence as they feel called upon to use in binding
themselves to their rights.
"The women of your day were relieved of that dress problem, at any
rate," laughed Queen Elizabeth.
"The women of my day," retorted Xanthippe, "in matters of dress were
the equals of their husbands--in my family particularly; now they
have lost their rights, and are made to confine themselves still to
garments like those of yore, while man has arrogated to himself the
sole and exclusive use of sane habiliments. However, that is apart
from the question. I was saying that I shall have a man's wheel, and
shall wear Socrates' old dress-clothes to ride it in, if Socrates has
to go out and buy an old dress-suit for the purpose."
The Queen arched her brows and looked inquiringly at Xanthippe for a
moment.
"A magnificent old maid was lost to the world when you married," she
said. "Feeling as you do about men, my dear Xanthippe, I don't see
why you ever took a husband."
"Humph!" retorted Xanthippe. "Of course you don't. You didn't need
a husband. You were born with something to govern. I wasn't."
"How about your temper?" suggested Ophelia, meekly.
Xanthippe sniffed frigidly at this remark.
"I never should have gone crazy over a man if I'd remained unmarried
forty thousand years," she retorted, severely. "I married Socrates
because I loved him and admired his sculpture; but when he gave up
sculpture and became a thinker he simply tried me beyond all
endurance, he was so thoughtless, with the result that, having
ventured once or twice to show my natural resentment, I have been
handed down to posterity as a shrew. I've never complained, and I
don't complain now; but when a woman is married to a philosopher who
is so taken up with his studies that when he rises in the morning he
doesn't look what he is doing, and goes off to his business in his
wife's clothes, I think she is entitled to a certain amount of
sympathy."
"And yet you wish to wear his," persisted Ophelia.
"Turn about is fair-play," said Xanthippe. "I've suffered so much on
his account that on the principle of averages he deserves to have a
little drop of bitters in his nectar."
"You are simply the victim of man's deceit," said Elizabeth, wishing
to mollify the now angry Xanthippe, who was on the verge of tears.
"I understood men, fortunately, and so never married. I knew my
father, and even if I hadn't been a wise enough child to know him, I
should not have wed, because he married enough to last one family for
several years."
"You must have had a hard time refusing all those lovely men,
though," sighed Ophelia. "Of course, Sir Walter wasn't as handsome
as my dear Hamlet, but he was very fetching."
"I cannot deny that," said Elizabeth, "and I didn't really have the
heart to say no when he asked me; but I did tell him that if he
married me I should not become Mrs. Raleigh, but that he should
become King Elizabeth. He fled to Virginia on the next steamer. My
diplomacy rid me of a very unpleasant duty."
Chatting thus, the three famous spirits passed slowly along the path
until they came to the sheltered nook in which the house-boat lay at
anchor.
"There's a case in point," said Xanthippe, as the house-boat loomed
up before them. "All that luxury is for men; we women are not
permitted to cross the gangplank. Our husbands and brothers and
friends go there; the door closes on them, and they are as completely
lost to us as though they never existed. We don't know what goes on
in there. Socrates tells me that their amusements are of a most
innocent nature, but how do I know what he means by that?
Furthermore, it keeps him from home, while I have to stay at home and
be entertained by my sons, whom the Encyclopaedia Britannica rightly
calls dull and fatuous. In other words, club life for him, and
dulness and fatuity for me."
"I think myself they're rather queer about letting women into that
boat," said Queen Elizabeth. "But it isn't Sir Walter's fault. He
told me he tried to have them establish a Ladies' Day, and that they
agreed to do so, but have since resisted all his efforts to have a
date set for the function."
"It would be great fun to steal in there now, wouldn't it," giggled
Ophelia. "There doesn't seem to be anybody about to prevent our
doing so."
"That's true," said Xanthippe. "All the windows are closed, as if
there wasn't a soul there. I've half a mind to take a peep in at the
house."
"I am with you," said Elizabeth, her face lighting up with pleasure.
It was a great novelty, and an unpleasant one to her, to find some
place where she could not go. "Let's do it," she added.
So the three women tiptoed softly up the gang-plank, and, silently
boarding the house-boat, peeped in at the windows. What they saw
merely whetted their curiosity.
"I must see more," cried Elizabeth, rushing around to the door, which
opened at her touch. Xanthippe and Ophelia followed close on her
heels, and shortly they found themselves, open-mouthed in wondering
admiration, in the billiard-room of the floating palace, and Richard,
the ghost of the best billiard-room attendant in or out of Hades,
stood before them.
"Excuse me," he said, very much upset by the sudden apparition of the
ladies. "I'm very sorry, but ladies are not admitted here."
"We are equally sorry," retorted Elizabeth, assuming her most
imperious manner, "that your masters have seen fit to prohibit our
being here; but, now that we are here, we intend to make the most of
the opportunity, particularly as there seem to be no members about.
What has become of them all?"
Richard smiled broadly. "I don't know where they are," he replied;
but it was evident that he was not telling the exact truth.
"Oh, come, my boy," said the Queen, kindly, "you do know. Sir Walter
told me you knew everything. Where are they?"
"Well, if you must know, ma'am," returned Richard, captivated by the
Queen's manner, "they've all gone down the river to see a prize-fight
between Goliath and Samson."
"See there!" cried Xanthippe. "That's what this club makes possible.
Socrates told me he was coming here to take luncheon with Carlyle,
and they've both of 'em gone off to a disgusting prize-fight!"
"Yes, ma'am, they have," said Richard; "and if Goliath wins, I don't
think Mr. Socrates will get home this evening."
"Betting, eh?" said Xanthippe, scornfully.
"Yes, ma'am," returned Richard.
"More club!" cried Xanthippe.
"Oh no, ma'am," said Richard. "Betting is not allowed in the club;
they're very strict about that. But the shore is only ten feet off,
ma'am, and the gentlemen always go ashore and make their bets."
During this little colloquy Elizabeth and Ophelia were wandering
about, admiring everything they saw.
"I do wish Lucretia Borgia and Calpurnia could see this. I wonder if
the Caesars are on the telephone," Elizabeth said. Investigation
showed that both the Borgias and the Caesars were on the wire, and in
short order the two ladies had been made acquainted with the state of
affairs at the house-boat; and as they were both quite as anxious to
see the interior of the much-talked-of club-house as the others, they
were not long in arriving. Furthermore, they brought with them half
a dozen more ladies, among whom were Desdemona and Cleopatra, and
then began the most extraordinary session the house-boat ever knew.
A meeting was called, with Elizabeth in the chair, and all the best
ladies of the Stygian realms were elected members. Xanthippe, amid
the greatest applause, moved that every male member of the
organization be expelled for conduct unworthy of a gentleman in
attending a prize-fight, and encouraging two such horrible creatures
as Goliath and Samson in their nefarious pursuits. Desdemona
seconded the motion, and it was carried without a dissenting voice,
although Mrs. Caesar, with becoming dignity, merely smiled approval,
not caring to take part too actively in the proceedings.
The men having thus been disposed of in a summary fashion, Richard
was elected Janitor in Charon's place, and the club was entirely
reorganized, with Cleopatra as permanent President. The meeting then
adjourned, and the invaders set about enjoying their newly acquired
privileges. The smoking-room was thronged for a few moments, but
owing to the extraordinary strength of the tobacco which the faithful
Richard shovelled into the furnace, it developed no enduring
popularity, Xanthippe, with a suddenly acquired pallor, being the
first to renounce the pastime as revolting.
So fast and furious was the enjoyment of these thirsty souls, so long
deprived of their rights, that night came on without their observing
it, and with the night was brought the great peril into which they
were thrown, and from which at the moment of writing they had not
been extricated, and which, to my regret, has cut me off for the
present from any further information connected with the Associated
Shades and their beautiful lounging-place. Had they not been so
intent upon the inner beauties of the House-boat on the Styx they
might have observed approaching, under the shadow of the westerly
shore, a long, rakish craft propelled by oars, which dipped softly
and silently and with trained precision in the now jet-black waters
of the Styx. Manning the oars were a dozen evil-visaged ruffians,
while in the stern of the approaching vessel there sat a grim-faced,
weather-beaten spirit, armed to the teeth, his coat sleeves bearing
the skull and cross-bones, the insignia of piracy.
This boat, stealing up the river like a thief in the night, contained
Captain Kidd and his pirate crew, and their mission was a mission of
vengeance. To put the matter briefly and plainly, Captain Kidd was
smarting under the indignity which the club had recently put upon
him. He had been unanimously blackballed, even his proposer and
seconder, who had been browbeaten into nominating him for membership,
voting against him.
"I may be a pirate," he cried, when he heard what the club had done,
"but I have feelings, and the Associated Shades will repent their
action. The time will come when they'll find that I have their club-
house, and they have--its debts."
It was for this purpose that the great terror of the seas had come
upon this, the first favorable opportunity. Kidd knew that the
house-boat was unguarded; his spies had told him that the members had
every one gone to the fight, and he resolved that the time had come
to act. He did not know that the Fates had helped to make his
vengeance all the more terrible and withering by putting the most
attractive and fashionable ladies of the Stygian country likewise in
his power; but so it was, and they, poor souls, while this fiend,
relentless and cruel, was slowly approaching, sang on and danced on
in blissful unconsciousness of their peril.
In less than five minutes from the time when his sinister-craft
rounded the bend Kidd and his crew had boarded the house-boat, cut
her loose from her moorings, and in ten minutes she had sailed away
into the great unknown, and with her went some of the most precious
gems in the social diadem of Hades.
The rest of my story is soon told. The whole country was aroused
when the crime was discovered, but up to the date of this narrative
no word has been received of the missing craft and her precious
cargo. Raleigh and Caesar have had the seas scoured in search of
her, Hamlet has offered his kingdom for her return, but unavailingly;
and the men of Hades were cast into a gloom from which there seems to
be no relief.
Socrates alone was unaffected.
"They'll come back some day, my dear Raleigh," he said, as the knight
buried his face, weeping, in his hands. "So why repine? I'll never
lose my Xanthippe--permanently, that is. I know that, for I am a
philosopher, and I know there is no such thing as luck. And we can
start another club."
"Very likely," sighed Raleigh, wiping his eyes. "I don't mind the
club so much, but to think of those poor women--"
"Oh, they're all right," returned Socrates, with a laugh. "Caesar's
wife is along, and you can't dispute the fact that she's a good
chaperon. Give the ladies a chance. They've been after our club for
years; now let 'em have it, and let us hope that they like it. Order
me up a hemlock sour, and let's drink to their enjoyment of club
life."
Which was done, and I, in spirit, drank with them, for I sincerely
hope that the "New Women" of Hades are having a good time.