"A Half Caste" and Other Writings

A Contract

✻ a contract Masters sat at his desk. His eyes had wandered past the mass of correspondence , papers and maps before and about him. Half absently he was watching a little rift of white clouds drifting lazily across the turquoise blue of the skies, a great snowflake fallen on a blue sheet of water. Now it drifted slowly toward the west, growing ever smaller and mistier until it melted into the endless glow of the sky and became a part of it. As it vanished from his sight Masters aroused himself from his reverie. He had been likening the flaky cloud against the blue to a piece of gauze twisted with a magic hand about the waist of a pale blue kimona of the sheerest silk. “Ah, these skies of Japan!” he sighed with a great indrawing of his breath. He was in a sentimental mood as usual of late, for Masters was in love. A polite Japanese looked in at him from an adjoining office, with the calm, half wondering, wholly unreadable expression of the better class. Seeing him, Masters sat up in his chair abruptly. “Ah, Ito, come in.” Bowing profoundly, his secretary approached the desk, where he stood in respectful attention. “You wanted to see me about some personal matter, I believe? What can I do for you?” “If your honorship would be so kind to sign this honorable insignificant paper,” said Ito, “I shall be thousand thanks to you until before I die.” “What is it?” asked Masters, examining curiously a paper written in Ito’s fine Japanese characters, deeply ruled down either side in red ink. “That, your honorship,” said Ito, without change of expression, “is one little bit betrothal contract.” “A—w—what?” exclaimed Masters, dropping the pen he had just dipped Part 1: Short Fiction 51 in the ink bottle. It was his custom to sign without question the various papers of the company prepared by the secretary and translated into Japanese , a language he was not completely familiar with in written form. “Insignificant betrothal contract,” repeated Ito, still unmoved. Masters sat back in his chair with a slight frown. “Why do you bring such things to me in the office here?” he demanded sharply. “Your honorship forgetting,” said Ito, gently, “that I beg for one private consultation with you.” “True,” Masters nodded, “but what have I to do with a betrothal contract ? I hope, Ito,” he added, whimsically, “you are not a nekoda in disguise and are not about to trick me into a marriage.” “No, no,” returned the other, hastily. “I beg your honorship’s ten millions pardons. This is my own insignificant contract.” “But why should I sign it?” “Ah, now I will take the pleasure to explain.” And Ito permitted a shadowy smile to flit across his face. “I am about to make proposal of marriage to Japanese maiden.” “Yes,” said Masters, with interest. “Vell,” said Ito, “before her father giving that necessary consent unto me, I got get endorsement from you also, Master-sir.” “From me?” “I explain further. The honorable father of this honorable lady don’t quite appreciate me.” Masters smiled. “Nevertheless,” continued Ito, “he have greatest respect for your excellency .” He bowed very deeply here. “Now, if you making request for me for this marriage he agoing to consent right away at once. Will your excellency honorably condescend to sign this insignificant contract?” “Oh, very well,” said Masters, picking up his pen, “glad to do anything I can to assist you, ’m sure.” As he wrote his crisp, bold signature across the bottom of the sheet he asked with mild interest: “And who is the happy bride?” Ito did not reply. He had taken the contract from his master and was examining his signature very carefully. He blotted it thoroughly and then slowly folded the contract. “You say her father knows me?” asked Masters, striking a match and lighting a cigar. “Yes, your honorship.” 52 Part 1: Short Fiction “What’s his name?” “Ten million pardons, but his honorable name so augustly insignificant your excellency could not remember it. Five thousand such name in Japan.” Masters smiled good humoredly. “Keep your secret, my boy,” he said. Arising he pushed his chair against the desk. His face had a strangely sympathetic expression on it as he looked down from his height on Ito. “As I said, Ito...