the lost road-第49部分

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equipmentin　which　he　had　the　pride　of　a　connoisseurwherever
he　went；　and；　what　is　more；　he　had　the　courage　to　use　the　evening
clothes　at　times　when　their　use　was　conspicuous。　　He　was　the　only
man　who　wore　a　dinner　coat　in　Vera　Cruz；　and　each　night；　at　his
particular　table　in　the　crowded　〃Portales；〃　at　the　Hotel
Diligencia；　he　was　to　be　seen；　as　fresh　and　clean　as　though　he
were　in　a　New　York　or　London　restaurant。

Each　day　he　was　up　early　to　take　the　train　out　to　the　〃gap；〃
across　which　came　arrivals　from　Mexico　City。　　Sometimes　a　good
〃story〃　would　come　down；　as　when　the　long…heralded　and　long…
expected　arrival　of　Consul　Silliman　gave　a　first…page　〃feature〃
to　all　the　American　papers。

In　the　afternoon　he　would　play　water　polo　over　at　the　navy
aviation　camp；　and　always　at　a　certain　time　of　the　day　his
〃striker〃　would　bring　him　his　horse　and　for　an　hour　or　more　he
would　ride　out　along　the　beach　roads　within　the　American　lines。
After　the　first　few　days　it　was　difficult　to　extract　real　thrills
from　the　Vera　Cruz　situation；　but　we　used　to　ride　out　to　El　Tejar
with　the　cavalry　patrol　and　imagine　that　we　might　be　fired　on　at
some　point　in　the　long　ride　through　unoccupied　territory；　or　else
go　out　to　the　〃front；〃　at　Legarto；　where　a　little　American　force
occupied　a　sun…baked　row　of　freight…cars；　surrounded　by　malarial
swamps。　　From　the　top　of　the　railroad　water…tank；　we　could　look
across　to　the　Mexican　outposts　a　mile　or　so　away。　　It　was　not　very
exciting；　and　what　thrills　we　got　lay　chiefly　in　our　imagination。

Before　my　acquaintanceship　with　Davis　at　Vera　Cruz　I　had　not
known　him　well。　　Our　trails　didn't　cross　while　I　was　in　Japan　in
the　Japanese…Russian　War；　and　in　the　Transvaal　I　missed　him　by　a
few　days；　but　in　Vera　Cruz　I　had　many　enjoyable　opportunities　of
becoming　well　acquainted　with　him。

The　privilege　was　a　pleasant　one；　for　it　served　to　dispel　a
preconceived　and　not　an　entirely　favorable　impression　of　his
character。　　For　years　I　had　heard　stories　about　Richard　Harding
Davisstories　which　emphasized　an　egotism　and　self…assertiveness
which；　if　they　ever　existed；　had　happily　ceased　to　be　obtrusive
by　the　time　I　got　to　know　him。

He　was　a　different　Davis　from　the　Davis　whom　I　had　expected　to
find；　and　I　can　imagine　no　more　charming　and　delightful　companion
than　he　was　in　Vera　Cruz。　　There　was　no　evidence　of　those
qualities　which　I　feared　to　find；　and　his　attitude　was　one　of
unfailing　kindness；　considerateness；　and　generosity。

In　the　many　talks　I　had　with　him；　I　was　always　struck　by　his
evident　devotion　to　a　fixed　code　of　personal　conduct。　　In　his　writings
he　was　the　interpreter　of　chivalrous；　well…bred　youth；　and　his　heroes
were　young；　clean…thinking　college　men；　heroic　big…game　hunters；
war　correspondents；　and　idealized　men　about　town；　who　always　did
the　noble　thing；　disdaining　the　unworthy　in　act　or　motive。　　It　seemed
to　me　that　he　was　modelling　his　own　life；　perhaps　unconsciously；
after　the　favored　types　which　his　imagination　had　created　for　his
stories。　　In　a　certain　sense　he　was　living　a　life　of　make…believe；
wherein　he　was　the　hero　of　the　story；　and　in　which　he　was　bound
by　his　ideals　always　to　act　as　he　would　have　the　hero　of　his
story　act。　　It　was　a　quality　which　only　one　could　have　who　had
preserved　a　fresh　youthfulness　of　outlook　in　spite　of　the
hardening　processes　of　maturity。

His　power　of　observation　was　extraordinarily　keen；　and　he　not
only　had　the　rare　gift　of　sensing　the　vital　elements　of　a
situation；　but　also　had；　to　an　unrivalled　degree；　the　ability　to
describe　them　vividly。　　I　don't　know　how　many　of　those　men　at　Verz
Cruz　tried　to　describe　the　kaleidoscopic　life　of　the　city　during
the　American　occupation；　but　I　know　that　Davis's　story　was　far
and　away　the　most　faithful　and　satisfying　picture。　　The　story　was
photographic；　even　to　the　sounds　and　smells。

The　last　I　saw　of　him　in　Vera　Cruz　was　when；　on　the　Utah；　he
steamed　past　the　flagship　Wyoming；　upon　which　I　was　quartered；
and　started　for　New　York。　　The　Battenberg　cup　race　had　just　been
rowed；　and　the　Utah　and　Florida　crews　had　tied。　　As　the　Utah　was
sailing　immediately　after　the　race；　there　was　no　time　in　which　to
row　off　the　tie。　　So　it　was　decided　that　the　names　of　both　ships
should　be　engraved　on　the　cup；　and　that　the　Florida　crew　should
defend　the　title　against　a　challenging　crew　from　the　British
Admiral　Craddock's　flagship。

By　the　end　of　June；　the　public　interest　in　Vera　Cruz　had　waned；
and　the　corps　of　correspondents　dwindled　until　there　were　only　a
few　left。

Frederick　Palmer　and　I　went　up　to　join　Carranza　and　Villa；　and　on
the　26th　of　July　we　were　in　Monterey　waiting　to　start　with　the
triumphal　march　of　Carranza's　army　toward　Mexico　City。　　There　was
no　sign　of　serious　trouble　abroad。　　That　night　ominous　telegrams
came；　and　at　ten　o'clock　on　the　following　morning　we　were　on　a
train　headed　for　the　States。

Palmer　and　Davis　caught　the　Lusitania；　sailing　August　4　from　New
York；　and　I　followed　on　the　Saint　Paul；　leaving　three　days　later。
On　the　17th　of　August　I　reached　Brussels；　and　it　seemed　the　most
natural　thing　in　the　world　to　find　Davis　already　there。　　He　was　at
the　Palace　Hotel；　where　a　number　of　American　and　English　
correspondents　were　quartered。

Things　moved　quickly。　　On　the　19th　Irvin　Cobb；　Will　Irwin；　Arno
Dosch；　and　I　were　caught　between　the　Belgian　and　German　lines　in
Louvain；　our　retreat　to　Brussels　was　cut；　and　for　three　days；
while　the　vast　German　army　moved　through　the　city；　we　were
detained。　　Then；　the　army　having　passed；　we　were　allowed　to　go
back　to　the　capital。

In　the　meantime　Davis　was　in　Brussels。　　The　Germans　reached　the
outskirts　of　the　city　on　the　morning　of　the　20th；　and　the
correspondents　who　had　remained　in　Brussels　were　feverishly
writing　despatches　describing　the　imminent　fall　of　the　city。　　One
of　them；　Harry　Hansen；　of　the　Chicago　Daily　News；　tells　the
following　story；　which　I　give　in　his　words：

〃While　we　were　writing；〃　says　Hansen；　〃Richard　Harding　Davis
walked　into　the　writing…room　of　the　Palace　Hotel　with　a　bunch　of
manuscript　in　his　hand。　　With　an　amused　expression　he　surveyed
the　three　correspondents　filling　white　paper。

〃'I　say；　men；'　said　Davis；　'do　you　know　when　the　next　train
leaves？'

〃'There　is　one　at　three　o'clock；'　said　a　correspondent；　looking
up。

〃'That　looks　like　our　only　chance　to　get　a　story　out；'　said
Davis。　　'Well；　we'll　trust　to　that。'

〃The　story　was　the　German　invasion　of　Brussels；　and　the　train
mentioned　was　considered　the　forlorn　hope　of　the　correspondents
to　connect　with　the　outside　worldthat　is；　every　correspondent
thought　it　to　be　the　other　man's　hope。　　Secretly　each　had　prepared
to　outwit　the　other；　and　secretly　Davis　had　already　sent　his
story　to　Ostend。　　He　meant　to　emulate　Archibald　Forbes；　who
despatched　a　courier　with　his　real　manuscript；　and　next　day
publicly　dropped　a　bulky　package　in　the　mail…bag。

〃Davis　had　sensed　the　news　in　the　occupation　of　Brussels　long
before　it　happened。　　With　dawn　he　went　out　to　the　Louvain　road；
where　the　German　army　stood；　prepared　to　smash　the　capital　if
negotiations　failed。　　His　observant　eye　took　in　all　the　details。
Before　noon　he　had　written　a　comprehensive　sketch　of　the
occupation；　and　when　word　was　received　that　it　was　under　way；　he
trusted　his　copy　to　an　old　Flemish　woman；　who　spoke　not　a　word　of
English；　and　saw　her　safely　on　board　the　train　that　pulled　out
under　Belgian　auspices　for　Ostend。〃

With　passes　which　the　German　commandant　in　Brussels　gave　us　the
correspondents　immediately　started　out　to　see　how　far　those
passes　would　carry　us。　　A　number　of　us　left　on　the　afternoon　of
August　23　for　Waterloo；　where　it　was　expected　that　the　great
clash　between　the　German　and　the　Anglo…French　forces　would　occur。
We　had　planned　to　be　back　the　same　evening；　and　went　prepared
only　for　an　afternoon's　drive　in　a　couple　of　hired　street
carriages。　　It　was　seven　weeks　before　we　again　saw　Brussels。

On　the　following　day　（August　24）　Davis　started　for　Mons。　　He　wore
the　khaki　uniform　which　he　had　worn　in　many　campaigns。　　Across　his
breast　was　a　narrow　bar　of　silk　ribbon　indicating　the　campaigns
in　which　he　had　served　as　a　correspondent。　　He　so　much　resembled　a
British　officer　that　he　was　arrested　as　a　British　derelict　and　was　informed
that　he　would　be　shot　at　once。

He　escaped　only　by　offering　to　walk　to　Brand　Whitlock；　in　Brussels；
reporting　to　each　officer　he　met　on　the　way。　　His　plan　was　approved；
and　as　a　hostage　on　parole　he　appeared　before　the　American　minister；
who　quickly　established　his　identity　as　an　American　of　good　standing；
to　the　satisfaction　of　the　Germans。

In　the　following　few　months　our　trails　were　widely　separated。　　I　read
of　his　arrest　by　German　officers　on　the　road　to　Mons；　later　I
read　the　story　of　his　departure　from　Brussels　by　train　to
Hollanda　trip　which　carried　him　through　Louvain　while　the　town
still　was　burning；　and　still　later　I　read　that　he　was　with　the
few　lucky　men　who　were　in　Rheims　during　one　of　the　early
bombardments　that　damaged　the　cathedral。　　By　amazing　luck；
combined　with　a　natural　news　sense　which　drew　him　instinctively
to　critical　places　at　the　psychological　mom