OF THE SOUTH SEAS 81 



night to keep away demons. I have seen a clergyman, 

 educated in Paris and Louvain, exorcising devils with 

 bell, book, and candle in Maryland, in one of the oldest 

 and proudest cities of the United States. I have seen 

 the American Governor-General of the Philippines 

 carrying a candle in a procession in honor of a mannikin 

 from a shrine at Antipolo, near Manila. Why, I could 

 tell you—" 



"Please, please, let me talk," Ivan Stroganoff inter- 

 rupted. "What I say is true, nevertheless. The Ta- 

 hitian has not one good quality. He is not to be com- 

 pared with the American negro for any desirable trait." 



"Do you know the negro?" I asked. 



The old man grunted. He relit his cigar, now only 

 an inch long, and said : 



"I was on the Merrimac when she fought the Moni- 

 tor in two engagements. I was a sailor on other Con- 

 federate men-of-war. I was one of Colonel Mosby's 

 guerillas, and was wounded with them. I have lived 

 thirteen years in the United States. I know the coon 

 well. I fought to keep him a slave." 



"You are not an American?" 



"I am a Russian, an anarchist once, and now I am 

 for Root and Lodge, the stand-pats. I lived in Russia 

 in its darkest days, under several czars, when your life 

 was the forfeit of a wink. I was a lawyer there, a 

 politician, an intrigant. I knew Rebel and Jaures and 

 the men before them. I lived in Germany many years, 

 in France, in England, anywhere, everywhere. I first 

 came to New York from Siberia. I was broke. The 

 Civil War was on. There were agents of Lee and Jeff 

 Davis in New York seeking sailors. They offered lots 



