Tales of Fantasy and Fact

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Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Dialect spellings, contractions and discrepancies have
been retained.


[Illustration: LOST AGAIN
                   P. 136]




TALES OF FANTASY AND FACT



By

BRANDER MATTHEWS



NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
1896



BOOKS BY BRANDER MATTHEWS.

THE THEATRES OF PARIS.
FRENCH DRAMATISTS OF THE 19TH CENTURY.
THE LAST MEETING, a Story.
A SECRET OF THE SEA, and Other Stories.
PEN AND INK: Essays on Subjects of More or Less Importance.
A FAMILY TREE, and Other Stories.
WITH MY FRIENDS: Tales Told in Partnership.
A TALE OF TWENTY-FIVE HOURS.
TOM PAULDING, a Story for Boys.
IN THE VESTIBULE LIMITED, a Story.
AMERICANISMS AND BRITICISMS, with Other Essays on Other Isms.
THE STORY OF A STORY, and Other Stories.
THE DECISION OF THE COURT, a Comedy.
STUDIES OF THE STAGE.
THIS PICTURE AND THAT, a Comedy.
VIGNETTES OF MANHATTAN.
THE ROYAL MARINE, an Idyl of Narragansett.
BOOK-BINDINGS, Old and New; Notes of a Book-Lover.
HIS FATHER'S SON, a Novel of New York.
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.
TALES OF FANTASY AND FACT.
ASPECTS OF FICTION, and Other Ventures in Criticism. (In Press.)

Copyright, 1896, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
_All rights reserved._




TO
THE MEMORY OF MY FRIEND
H. C. BUNNER




CONTENTS


                                                     Page

A PRIMER OF IMAGINARY GEOGRAPHY                         3

THE KINETOSCOPE OF TIME                                27

THE DREAM-GOWN OF THE JAPANESE AMBASSADOR              57

THE RIVAL GHOSTS                                       93

SIXTEEN YEARS WITHOUT A BIRTHDAY                      131

THE TWINKLING OF AN EYE                               143

A CONFIDENTIAL POSTSCRIPT                             207




A PRIMER OF IMAGINARY GEOGRAPHY


"Ship ahoy!"

There was an answer from our bark--for such it seemed to me by this
time--but I could not make out the words.

"Where do you hail from?" was the next question.

I strained my ears to catch the response, being naturally anxious to
know whence I had come.

"From the City of Destruction!" was what I thought I heard; and I
confess that it surprised me not a little.

"Where are you bound?" was asked in turn.

Again I listened with intensest interest, and again did the reply
astonish me greatly.

"Ultima Thule!" was the answer from our boat, and the voice of the man
who answered was deep and melancholy.

Then I knew that I had set out strange countries for to see, and that I
was all unequipped for so distant a voyage. Thule I knew, or at least I
had heard of the king who reigned there once and who cast his goblet
into the sea. But Ultima Thule! was not that beyond the uttermost
borders of the earth?

"Any passengers?" was the next query, and I noted that the voice came
now from the left and was almost abreast of us.

"One only," responded the captain of our boat.

"Where bound?" was the final inquiry.

"To the Fortunate Islands!" was the answer; and as I heard this my
spirits rose again, and I was glad, as what man would not be who was on
his way to the paradise where the crimson-flowered meadows are full of
the shade of frankincense-trees and of fruits of gold?

Then the boat bounded forward again, and I heard the wash of the waves.

All this time it seemed as though I were in darkness; but now I began
dimly to discern the objects about me. I found that I was lying on a
settee in a state-room at the stern of the vessel. Through the small
round window over my head the first rays of the rising sun darted and
soon lighted the little cabin.

As I looked about me with curiosity, wondering how I came to be a
passenger on so unexpected a voyage, I saw the figure of a man framed
in the doorway at the foot of the stairs leading to the deck above.

How it was I do not know, but I made sure at once that he was the
captain of the ship, the man whose voice I had heard answering the
hail.

He was tall and dark, with a scant beard and a fiery and piercing gaze,
which penetrated me as I faced him. Yet the expression of his
countenance was not unfriendly; nor could any man lay eyes upon him
without a movement of pity for the sadness written on his visage.

I rose to my feet as he came forward.

"Well," he said, holding out his hand, "and how are you after your
nap?"

He spoke our language with ease and yet with a foreign accent. Perhaps
it was this which betrayed him to me.

"Are you not Captain Vanderdecken?" I asked as I took his hand
heartily.

"So you know me?" he returned, with a mournful little laugh, as he
motioned to me to sit down again.

Thus the ice was broken, and he took his seat by my side, and we were
soon deep in talk.

When he learned that I was a loyal New-Yorker, his cordiality
increased.

"I have relatives in New Amsterdam," he cried; "at least I had once.
Diedrich Knickerbocker was my first cousin.