A CHAT ON BOOKS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2929, 4 May 1910, Page 72

A CHAT ON BOOKS.

"THE WHITE MICE," BY RICHARD HARDING- DAVIS. The rare charm of this author's books runs no risk of losing its piquant flavour by too frequent repetition. There is a long interval between his novels. He does not write unless he has something worth writing about, therefore there is a pleasant sense of security in taking up a book of his. In the presentinstance the pleasurable anticipation natural to readers of that old favourite, "Sons of Fortune," is fully realised. The somewhat peculiar title, "The White Mice," is suggested by the old fable of "The Lion and the Mouse," with, which we are all familiar, and to which the author, having related it, appends the following: "The morals are, that an appreciation of humour "6 a precious thingthat God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; and that you never can tell." The lion of the story is General Don

Miguel Rojas, who as a young man was called '"'the Lion, of Valencia," and who, after having served his country in various honourable and distinguished capacities, found himself at 60 the occupant of a dungeon cell underneath the fortress in the harnour of Porto Cabella, Venezuela He had been there two yeans. The dungeon was dark and very damp, and at high tide the waters of the harbour oozed through the pores of the limestone walls. The air was the air of a receiving vault and held the odour of a fisherman's creel. The mouse of the fable's counterpart is represented by a little party of four young men, who, at the- opening of the story, are enjoying themselves in Yokohama. The first is Rodman Forrester, familiarly known as "Roddy." "His father, beside being pointed out as the parent of Roddy Forrester, the one-time celebrated Yale pitcher, was himself not unfavourably known to many Governments as a constructor of skyscrapers, breakwaters, bridges, wharves, and lighthouses, which latter he planted on slippery rocks along inaccessible coastlines." The second is Peter de Peyster, who hailed from the banks of the Hudson, and had been Roddy's room mate at Yale, where the two had been firm enough friends _ to contradict one another without hesitation. After two years of quarrelling amicably through their college course they were on terms of such perfect understanding as to be inseparable. The third was known as the "Orchid Hunter." He was not really an orchid hunter, but on his journeyings around the globe he had become so ashamed of telling people he had no other business than to spend his father's money that be had decided to say he was collecting orchids. The fourth of the quartet wore the uniform and insignia of a lieutenant of the U.S. navy. His name was Perry, and he was speaking. "The most important member of the ship's company on a submarine," said he, "doesn't draw any pay at all, and he has no rating. He is a mouse." "He's a what?" demanded the Orchid Hunter, who had been patriotically celebrating the arrival of the American squadron, and was inclined to be touchy. "Don't talk sea-slang to me," he continued. "When you say he's a mouse, what do you mean by a mouse?" "I mean a mouse," said the lieutenant. "A white mouse with pink- eyes. He bunks in the engine-room, and' when he smells sulphuric gas escaping anywhere he squeals; and the chief finds a leak, and the ship isn't blown up. Sometimes one little white mouse will save the life of a dozen bluejackets." Roddy and Peter de Peyster nodded appreciatively. The Orchid Hunter pensively drank to the white mouse, and pointed out "the moral of the story is that everybody, no matter how impecunious, can you fellows could help; so could I." His voice rose in sudden excitement. "I will at once," he cried, "organise the Society of the Order of the White Mice. The obiect of the society is to save "everybody's life. Don't tell me," he objected scornfully, "that, you fellows will let a little white mice save twelve hundred bluejackets, an' you sit there an' grin! You mus' all be a white mice. You mus' all save somebody's life. An' then—we give our self a dinner." "And . medals," suggested Peter de Peyster. So fascinating is the project that the Orchid Hunter • .announces, "An' now, you fellows, I'm gain' into secret session and initiate you into Yokohama Chapter, Secret Order' of White Mice. An' . . I will be Mos' Exalted Secret White Mouse.'' Such was the founding of the Secret Order of White Mice! And just to show how small this world is, and that: "Gcd moves in a mysterious way, His wondew to perform," at 3 o'clock that morning, when the Secret Order of White Mice after their inaugural dinner were returning home singing "We are little white mice who have gone astray." "An old man in his cell of the Porto Cabello Fortress, tossing and shivering with fever, smiled and sank to sleep; for in his dreams the heard the scampering feet of the white mice, and saw the gates of his prison cell open." We next find Roddy Forrester installed —much to his annoyance—as inspector of works at Porto Cabello, where his father's company has just undertaken the construction, of a lighthouse and the buoying of the harbour. His duties are light. As sarcastically epitomised by his father they stand thus: "You sit in the sun, with a pencil, and every time our men empty a bag of cement into the ocean you make a mark." The arrival of his old friend Peter de Peyster makes a welcome distraction. Roddy's oil launch conveys them from point to point of the construction works, and the vast bulk of the fortress prison dominating the harbour irresistibly sug--gests a topic, "Somewhere buried in there," said Roddy, "is General Rojas, the lion of Valencia, a man beloved of the people. He has held all the Cabinet positions, and has been Ambassador to E'urope. President Alvarez fears him more than anv man in Venezuela. . . .

When the people found out what a blackguard Alvarez, was they begged Rojas to run for the Presidency against him. That night Alvarez hauled him out of bed and put him in. there. I have been through the prison with Vincenti. 'the prison doctor. I saw Rojas; his cell was lit by a candle; he was wrapped in a blanket, and though it was a blazing hot day outside the place was as cold as a refrigerator. The doctor warned the goyernor of the prison that unless Rojas ,is 'moved to the upper cells above the water line, he will be dead in six months." ■ "Why don't his friends get him out?" said Peter. "They'd have to get themselves out first," explained Roddy. "Alvarez made a clean sweep of it—even hia wife and two daughters were exiled. They have plenty of money; in Paris, London, or America they have plenty of friends ; but

in order to be near General Rojas they have bought a villa and settled in Curacao. For in their last good-bye to the prisoner in the fortress, Senora Rojas arranged with him that every night at sunset she and her daughters would look towards Porto Gabello and he would look toward Curacao." "And," continued Roddy, "the people of the little island, the Dutch, the Spaniards, and- the negroes, all know the story, and when they see the three women on the cliff at sunset it is like the Angelus singing, and the people pray that the women may see him again." There was a long silence as the brief, sad story ended, and it was broken when Peter de Peyster leaned toward Roddy and stared into his face. "I hear something," he whispered. Roddy looked at him questioningly and raised' his head to listen. Save for the whisper of the waves against the base of the fortress, there was no sound. "What?" asked Roddy.

"I hear the call of the white mice," was Peter's answer.

Silence again, then Roddy laughed softly, his eyes half closed, and the muscles of his lower jaw set tight as he answered, "I will go as far as you like." Thus it came about that two young men, strangers in a strange country, set themeelves in their secret capacity of white mice to rescue a weak and dying lion from an impregnable fortress. They must do this great thing alone, for, as Roddy pointed out, had it bean a question of money the friends of Rojas —men au courant with the politics and plots of Venezuelan Government and antiGovernment —would already have succeeded in setting him free, whereas they had failed time after time. Which proved quite clearly, not that the prison officials were incorruptible, but that their fear of Alvarez.was greater than their cupidity. The first thing was to accustom the inhabitants of Porto Cabello to the eccentric movements of Roddy's little motor launch during the evening hours. To this end the conspirators took to spearing eels in the harbour. With noble self-sacrifice the harbour eels lent themselves to the deception ; by hundreds they swarmed in front of the dazzling headlight; by dozens they impaled themselves upon the tines of the tridents. So that at the end of the week, by the aid of baskets of eels judiciously distributed to the Commandant of the Porte, the governor, and the doctor of the prison, .and others, the launch of the "Gringos," as it darted noisily in and out of the harbour, and carelessly flashed its searchlights on the walls of the fortress, came to be regarded less as a nuisance than a blessing. But one night Roddy was overwhelmed with sudden misgivings. "Wouldn't it be awful," he cried, "if, after we have cut the bars and shown him the rope ladder and the launch, he refuses to come with us !" There is but one way to meet this perfectly possible situation. The White Mioe must obtain undeniable credentials. ;Prom whom? The only people who can give them live in Curacao. The sooner they got there the better. "'Peter," inquired Roddy, "how old do you think the daughters are?" By this time it has come home to Roddy that the Forrester Construction Company has some plot—and that a serious one—■ of which he is utterly ignorant, on hand. Will the x conspiracy "of the small White Mice to liberate Rojas clash with the unknown plot of the great and powerful F.C.C.? To which Roddy answers with his usual airy fatalism: ' 'lf my father is going to lose two millions because you and I set an old man free, then father is going to lose two millions." To describe in the words of the author the quaint little island of Curacao is most tempting, but space, alas! does not permit. One sentence must suffice : "This town of Williamstad combines both the ancient and the modern schools. Its scene is from 'Miss Hook of Holland,' and the girls are out of Bandanna Land." Nor is there space to tell of the difficulties which beeet the conspirators in that much-coveted interview with the Senora Rojas or her daughters. It is a case of the unexpected which happens, and into the elaborate indifference of the day's plans for sight-seeing an element of frustrated tragedy is interpolated. It is Roddy's luck to save the life of Colonel Pino Vega by striking up the arm of his would-be assassin. Pino Vega happens to be the man chosen to head the revolution which is to hurl the detested tyrant Alvarez from the Presidency and save the interests of the F.C.C. _ Of all this Roddy is serenely ignorant. His object is to gain an interview with and obtain credeitials from the Senora Rojas, and none other. Obliquely, fortune favours him. The interview he gains is not with the senora, nor with her eider daughter, the Senorita Lolita—a SpanishAmerican to her finger-tips, with the whole of her life's horizon bounded by her Church, her music, and the duties of the household-—but with the Senorita Inez —a very young, very beautiful girl whose whole sympathies are with American life and thought and freedom.' Now every reader guesses the conclusion of the story: the sympathy, the friendship of Inez Rojas and Roddy Forrester ripening into a great and beautiful love. Yet

so well, .so graphically, and withal so whimsically is it bold, this graduallyascending climax which leads up to the successful release of General Rojas, that one would not cut out even one paragraph, omit one little detail of the skilful whole. the last words bear witness to my Verdict.

Have you forgotten,' cried Roddy, ' you forbade me to tell you that I loved you till your father was free? ' "Inez looked up-at him, and the light of the stars fell in her /eyes. " 'What -will you tell me? 5 she whispered. . . . " 'I will tell you,' said Roddy, 'the name of a girl who is going to be kissed in one second.' "