CHAPTER III.

MARTINIQUE.

A Midnight Insurrection-Congressional Party in Danger-The Schedule Restored-Martinique and Saint Pierre-Fort de France and Josephine-Diving That Shocks-Excitable French Negroes-Hill-climbing to the Governor's House-A FrenchAmerican Tete-a-tete-Tropical Fruits and Souvenirs-The Monkey and the Black Boy-Knox McCain and Nick Carter— Hearn's Word Picture of St. Pierre-A Scene of DesolationThe Deadly Fer-de-Lance-Mann's Search for Relics-A Skull for a Drinking Cup-American Money Refused-Mt. Pelée's Stomach-ache-God in the Disaster-Heilprin's Conclusions—Martinique in the Revolution and Rebellion.

It was late at night when we returned from the reception at the Governor's palace in San Juan. In such a climate conventional full dress naturally attracted attention, and we had no sooner boarded the ship than signs of revolt among the other passengers developed. Some of the latter, goodnaturedly I took it, intimated that "special" attentions were being paid the Speaker, and a rumor was spread that the itinerary was to be changed to enable the Congressional Party to spend more time at Panama than had been originally scheduled, and that to this end the trip to Venezuela was to be abandoned.

Up to this time Venezuela had been scarcely mentioned, but the rumor that it was to be dropped from the itinerary had a remarkable effect. Suddenly it became the goal at which all had aimed. If we were not to go to Venezuela then the steamship company was playing unfair. It must be that the Congressmen were at the back of it. This was

what I gathered from the excitable ones, but when they singled me out from the Congressional party and asked me to sign a petition to the captain to adhere to the schedule, the situation became amusing. Of course, I declined to sign the petition; then the insurgents "knew for sure" they were on the right track. Headed by the Waterbury watch man they opened up for a battle royal. I insisted that we were out for trouble, too. If they wanted an insurrection it might as well come. Venezuela was the home of insurrectionists, so we were simply going to our own. What to

us was Saint Pierre and its awful desolation, or Kingston and its earthquake? We were out for blood! Mutiny, shipwreck, burning, looting-anything that would celebrate the trip and astound the people of the United States. Was I not one of the Bold Buccaneers of Barnegat?

What was the use of embarking upon such a trip as this if nothing desperate happened? Unless we got our names into the newspapers, our friends would never know we were out. Was I in earnest? Why, of course, I was. Had I not heard the voice of the people? But why settle it all now? Let us fight it out in the morning.

Ah, but the insurgents were not to be appeased by this kind of talk. Would I undertake to say the Congressional party was not behind the movement to change the schedule? It was White, of Connecticut, and my Union League friend, Helme, of Philadelphia, both smiling a little, who now pressed for an answer. They, too, were beginning to see the humor of the situation. No, I certainly would not. Mr. McKinley was the "boss" of our party and Speaker Cannon was asleep-but here comes Loudenslager, maybe he can tell!

Of course, the astonished Loudenslager could not tell. He hadn't heard the subject discussed, but he was for what

everybody was for and if they wanted to put the captain in irons, it was all the same to him. Mann and Busbey took the same cue. In their judgment, a trip like this would be no kind of a trip unless somebody did something, and they were for having something done. And so it continued until long after one o'clock. The insurgents retired and the few members of the Congressional party who had been let into the secret, for the Speaker did not know, "rested on their oars."

The next morning stories of trouble, change of schedule, favoritism, disappointment, were rife from stem to stern. The Brooklyn lawyer, who had so constantly reminded himself of Webster, unbended enough to say he had really "suspected from the beginning" that somebody would defer to Mr. Cannon before the voyage was over and he wished he had come on a trip where possibly, Ahem!-true nobility -might be recognized. The man who "looked like Roosevelt" gave an extra hitch to the waving string of his eye-glasses and succeeded in making them fairly flutter in the breeze, and as for the Cincinnati millionaire, he simply couldn't understand why anyone's money was any better than his when he had as much as anyone else. But the streak disappeared as rapidly as it came and that night at the ship's entertainment, when it was made known that Venezuela was still on the schedule and that Mr. McKinley had arranged to keep it there, despite the rumors of yellow fever at La Guaira, there were no insurgents around to respond to the roll-call. The Speaker was again the lion of the ship's entertainment and was amused, as we were, when told of the Scylla and Charybdis through which we had passed.

Martinique, the French island of the West Indies toward which we were sailing, is about 400 miles from San Juan.