Beast (3 page)
rooms.
And ambergris, this rare and beguiling substance, did Sinbad carry onto his ship, making room for
it among the ivory, gold, diamonds, sandalwood, camphor, clove, and coral.
Yves DuJauc
"
Selected Stories from the
Arabian Nights"
Pease Porridge,
vol. 24, no. 6
London, 1887
The letters and telegrams, beginning five months previously, including the one letter that went astray:
February
9,
1902
Miami
Your Highness,
It was a great pleasure for Isabel and myself to meet you this past month. (For better or worse,
Americans are unavoidably impressed with European titles, and we are no exception.) It was very
kind of you to invite my wife and myself to tour your offices, fields, and factories; your
undertakings in Grasse and Cannes are most formidable. It was fascinating to see the source of so
much of Vandermeer Sea Transit International's cargo and, of course, to see what will become of
the ambergris that our subsidiary has agreed to deliver to their newest customer. Of course, it was
kinder still of you to invite us into your lovely-home on the Mediterranean. We are still talking
about the splendor and beauty of the house itself
—
the view, the sea, the grounds
—
Oh, we simply
cannot stop raving to each other
.
I would now like to suggest something that may be a little presumptuous. Isabel and I were so
terribly impressed with your home, your graciousness, your cultured outlook, your enterprises,
your friends, your princely hospitality
—
in short, you. It must be obvious to you, surelv, that we
had a wondrous time, quite the most splendid visit we have ever had in Europe. Which brings me
to offering my bold idea. We have a daughter, Louise, who has just come out this season. She is
young, bin we are very, very proud of her. She is quite extraordinary
—
lovely and accomplished.
Her French is fluent. She likes travel. I am suggesting baldly that you, being a single gentleman,
consider uniting yourself with our family through marriage to our daughter. I should like to fill
pages with her accomplishments, but, I think, these days young people like to meet and decide
these things a little for themselves. I invite you to come visit us at your convenience. We return to
our home in New York shortly. Perhaps you would consider coming this spring
.
I do not doubt that a gentleman such as yourself has had many fathers propose such
arrangements. What gives me such nerve, then? On such short acquaintance, no less? Well, I like
to think you were as affected by our company as we were by yours. In truth, however, it is Louise
herself who gives me courage, for I know I have a remarkable daughter. She has gathered many
suitors here
—
she is greatly sought after
—
but Isabel and I agree that we like none so well for our
dear Lulu as we do you. Please forgive this impertinence, if that is what it is, but I could not resist
speaking my heart's desire. Let us hear from you on this matter as soon as is possible
.
Yours most truly,
Harold P. Vandermeer
19 February 1902
Nice, France
My dear sir,
I am most flattered by the kind words and offer in your recent letter. My business concerns,
however, devour all my time for the present. A trip to America for me is out of the question. I
thank you for your generous compliments but must respectfully decline visiting you and meeting, I
am sure, your very delightful daughter.
I look forward to our continuing, mutually rewarding business relationship.
Yours most truly,
Charles Harcourt, Prince d'Harcourt
March 2, 1902
Miami
Your Highness,
I, of course, respect your decision not to pursue my presumptuous (but enthusiastic and
good-intentioned) offer.
Mitchell, in port in Nassau
—
with a remarkable seventy-eight pounds of ambergris
—
has
mentioned to me you wish to purchase
the entirety
of this windfall. I am very glad you wish to
expand our business association. (A son-in-law, you realize, could
own
the whole fishing fleet and
have, at cost, all the whale bile he could gather
—
this is a little joke meant to tweak your
n
ez.)
Please understand that we have several other regular buyers whom we must keep minimally
happy. I have told Mitchell, though, that you are to have the best price and the majority of the
haul
.
I write to you from Miami still. We remain at our "winter" home while I negotiate new docking
space for my cargo line. Be assured that our invitation to visit remains open here or anywhere you
may find us. You would love Miami, I think
—
small but very sophisticated and so full of strange,
sweet-smelling flowers that, once you smelled them, you would be mad to add to your botanical
garden
.
Sincerely yours,
Harold Vandermeer
PS. Please forgive a father's pride: I enclose a photograph of my own sweet flower, my
daughter, Louise.
March 30, 1902
New York
Your Highness,
I thought I might have success where my husband has failed. Harold and I still talk incessantly of
our trip to the Riviera. What a fine time! And the high point was the time we spent as your house
guests. We do so wish you would consider a trip to America. We would not
mention
the word
"marriage" or even hint or say a word to Louise. You could come as a friend, discuss new
shipping and supplying arrangements with Harold
—
and meet our Lulu and just see how the two
of you got along
.
Meanwhile, your cousin, Gaspard, has introduced himself to us. He is such a polite young
gentleman. We enjoy having him around. He seems quite taken with Louise (but. alas, we are
holding out for a full-blooded prince
—
ha, ha!) He does look a bit like von, though, which makes
Harold and I sigh and postulate. If only, if only our friend from Nice would bless us with a visit
…
All our best,
Isabel Vandermeer
The letter that never arrived:
11 April 1902
Grasse, France
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Vandermeer,
This may come as a surprise to you. On rather short notice, I discover I am leaving for America
within about three weeks, just enough time for an exchange of information. I shall be in New York
overnight, after which I head for, of all places, Miami. While in New York, I should be pleased to
stop by or perhaps invite the two of you and your daughter one evening to dinner. Unfortunately,
I shall not have a great deal of free time, but I would not forgive myself for being in your city and
not saying
bonjour.
Yours truly,
Charles Harcourt, Prince d'Harcourt
Telegram sent from Nice to New York, May 2. 1902:
mr. and mrs. vandermeer stop I leave tomorrow for new york stop arrive may 9 then on to miami may 10 through may 30 stop can only imagine that my letter of several weeks ago was lost in mail stop hope nothing is wrong stop will attempt to contact you in new york stop charles harcourt Telegram sent from New York to Nice, May 2, 1902:
we are thrilled and devastated stop yes yes please contact us in new york then we should like to take you to miami ourselves in our private railway car stop we shall roll out red carpet stop alas louise is on a kind of grand tour stop will explain more later stop we are not sure exactly where she is but shall leave word for her at all possible contact points to come to us immediately stop again we are delighted you are coming stop harold and isabel vandermeer
Ambergris is a highly aromatic, waxy, grayish solid often found floating on the surface of the sea.
Charles Harcourt, Prince d'Harcourt
On the Nature and Uses of Ambergris
Les Monographies de la Societé
des Etudes Naturelles
Paris, 1897
It was damnably cold to be out on the foredeck, stark naked in the middle of the night. The sea was rolling; the wind was chilly and damp. The deck was wet, high sprays of seawater coming up regularly-over the rail. Thanks to the weather, the chairs in which Charles had intended to find cover were pulled back and tied down, not fit for sitting, barely fit for climbing and digging through in search of blankets. Worse, the general area of these roped-together chairs—under the companionway and against the bulwark—was the only area that was truly dark. A row of the ship's running lights, right below this deck, cast a dim, lurid effulgence, which was abetted further by a glow down the way. The grand saloon at midship was still bright, throwing a dazzling white haze into the night. Someone was having a late party.
Thus, in the unnerving ambiance of wet, rocking shadows and distant music, Charles dug out three blankets and donned them more or less toga-style. When he turned to survey for possibilities of comfortable shelter, however, he was met with another unwelcome surprise: Two glowing silhouettes materialized out of the midship white-brightness—a young woman approaching rapidly with a young man in pursuit.
Charles ducked under the companionway, then wedged himself under the steps, arms braced, in response to the ship ploughing up the side of a steep wave. The tilt of gravity took the girl's flight off-kilter. She veered straight into the railing. There she turned quickly, hanging on, laughing in the face of her pursuer, who followed her to the rail, where he dropped his hands on either side of her. The young man, a junior officer in whites, pinned her there for a moment. Charles watched, half annoyed by this sudden intrusion, half charmed by their pantomime, the eternal game played out not thirty feet from him.
He heard the rise of sweet, sadistic feminine laughter, the teasing sound of a young girl happily torturing a young man. This carried on the wind for a moment, then was gone. The ocean rose into view over the rail—a high black swell covered with a vast reticulation of white foam, like endless yards of floating lace—then dropped, sending a spray up over the deck. The girl squealed as she and her beau took a pelting of water. Then they both ran. Straight toward Charles.
He drew back, alarmed and madly scrambling for a logical, polite explanation for his being outside on deck wearing nothing but blankets. He was sure the two lovebirds were about to join him right here under the companionway.
This most certainly was the young man's intention, for when the girl veered again, toward the top of the steps instead of the underside, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward Charles's little patch of dark.