Hawaii - James Michener [383]
Micah replied: "Must a good man always use such evil instruments as you and your grandfather?"
Whip said: "Yes. Because good men never have the courage to act. You can only direct and safeguard movements already set into motion by men like me."
Micah replied: "I will not compound the evil I did once. I will not help you, Whip."
Whip said: "You do not hurt me, Uncle Micah, but you destroy the future of these islands."
He bowed and left his austere uncle. It was nearly three in the morning when he walked down the path to King Street, and his last view of Micah was of the white-bearded old man sitting erect at his desk, staring at his books.
At the secret meeting of the committee held the next day, Sunday, January 15, Wild Whip reported frankly to his conspirators: "Uncle Micah will not join us."
"Then I can't either," said David Hale. Two of the Hewletts also withdrew.
John Janders suggested: "We'd better not try to force the revolution. If Micah Hale's against it, he might inflame public opinion against us. Then we'd be lost. I'm going to call off tomorrow's mass meeting."
There was a buzz of excitement and Wild Whip could feel the resolve of the would-be revolutionists ebbing away like the surf after a high tide. Men in groups were discussing how, having just coached Ed Hewlett in what to tell the mob tomorrow, they must now cancel his oratory.
"You may have misunderstood me," Whip said quietly. The revolutionists stopped retreating, eager to hear any words of direction. "I meant to say that Uncle Micah will not join us willingly. What I didn't say was that I shall force his hand, and make him join. Everything goes ahead as planned. In two days, gentlemen, Hawaii will be a republic, and the men in this room will govern it. With Micah Hale as our face to the world."
"How do you propose accomplishing that?" one of the Hales asked. "If Uncle Micah makes up his mind . . ."
"Your uncle is a patriot," Whip replied. "He loves Hawaii and is loyal to it. He will never see these islands disintegrate into formless revolution. He'll be with us."
"How will you force his hand?"
"I think we can get the American troops to march ashore tomorrow night . . . just after the mass meeting. This will accomplish two ends. It will encourage our side and scare hell out of the monarchists. We occupy the government buildings, throw the queen out, and on Monday morning Micah Hale will have to join us."
"Are you certain of this?" one of the trembling Hales asked.
"I am going to begin drafting the proclamations now," Whip replied, "for him to sign, and I want David Hale and Micah Whipple to help me."
The revolution that overthrew the Hawaiian monarchy and passed the government into the hands of the sugar planters was under way. In her palace, the wild-willed queen shuddered as she saw American troops file ashore to invade her territory. She was disposed to fight them, for she knew that this was a cruel perversion of the ordinary relationships between sovereign nations, but the sugar planters quickly immobilized her loyal troops, and she was left defenseless, a stubborn, anachronistic woman in her mid-fifties, regal in appearance but totally unaware that the nineteenth century was ebbing to a close and taking with it the concepts of government to which she adhered.
However, in the dying moments of her reign she was not completely without support, for after her troops were disbanded without firing a shot, a squad of volunteer loyalists materialized from the alleys of Honolulu and marched out to defend their queen. In their ranks, and typical of their quality, waddled the old kanaka maile gatherer, Kimo. He had a musket that he had grabbed from a man in a pool hall and he held his uniform--a pair of sagging pants and that was all--about his