Free Empire by Gore Vidal Page A

statue in Rock Creek Cemetery. Have you seen it?”
    “I’ve never been to Washington.”
    “Well, we shall alter that soon, I hope.”
    Brooks Adams entered the drawing room, talking. “A nation thatfaces two oceans must have colonies everywhere in order to protect itself.”
    “Oh, dear,” murmured Clara Hay, folding the letter to King and placing it in an envelope. “Dear Brooks,” she added; and fled the room slowly.
    “That is not just my view,” said Brooks, staring hard at Caroline. “It is Admiral Mahan’s. When was the last time you reread his
The Influence of Sea Power upon History
?”
    “I’ve never actually read it once,” said Caroline, trying not to lose her balance and fall into those mad flinty eyes. “Or,” she added, finally detaching her gaze from his, “heard of it till now.”
    “You must reread it at least once a year.” Brooks listened to no one but himself and Henry. “The logic is overpowering. Maintain a fleet in order to acquire colonies. Then, in turn, the colonies will provide you with new wealth in order to maintain an even larger fleet in order to acquire even more colonies. Theodore has finally learned this lesson. It took me years to bring him around. Now he understands that if the Anglo-Saxon race is to survive—and prevail—we must go to war.”
    “With whom?”
    “With anyone who tries to stop us from the acquisition of China. We shall need a different president, of course. McKinley has been superb. But now we need a military man, a dictator of sorts. I’m instructing the Democratic Party to support General Miles. He’s a war hero, after all. He’s commanded all our forces. He’s deeply conservative.”
    “Will the Democratic Party do as you tell them?” Caroline was now convinced that Brooks Adams was more than a little mad.
    “If they want to win, of course. Wouldn’t you vote for General Miles?”
    “Women do not vote, Mr. Adams.”
    “Thank God. But if you could?”
    “I don’t know him.”
    “You don’t know who?” Mrs. Cameron was brilliant in watered blue silk.
    “Mr. Adams’s candidate for president, General Miles.”
    “Nelson?” Mrs. Cameron’s eyebrows contracted.
    “That’s right. He’s willing. We’re willing.”
    “Then that’s that, I suppose.” Don Cameron and Henry Adams entered the room together, and Brooks abandoned the ladies for the real quarry. “Poor Brooks,” said Mrs. Cameron. “But then poor Nelson, too, if he’s got the bug.”
    “Is Nelson, General Miles?”
    “Yes. He’s also my brother-in-law. I can’t imagine him as president. But then I can’t really imagine anyone until, of course, they are. Del says you are leaving tomorrow.”
    Caroline nodded. “I must talk to lawyers. In New York.”
    “Our summer’s ending far too soon. You to New York, Mr. Hay to New Hampshire. Mr. Adams to Paris …”
    “Mrs. Hay just told me who the Five of Hearts are.”
    Mrs. Cameron smiled. “So now you know who they are. But did she tell you
what
they are?”
    “What they are?” Caroline was puzzled. “But weren’t they just five friends, to begin with?”
    “No. They were not just friends.” Mrs. Cameron was suddenly, annoyingly, mysterious. “It is
what
they are that most matters.” Then Mrs. Cameron turned to greet two strange ladies, who had just arrived. Could it be, wondered Caroline, much intrigued, that these five—now four—elderly people are the gods of Olympus in disguise?

TWO
– 1 –
    B LAISE DELACROIX Sanford had little appetite for food and less for drink, and so he had got into the habit of turning the lunch hour into a long walk up Fifth Avenue, starting at the
Journal
office and ending with a visit to the Hoffman House bar in Madison Square. Here he would drink a mug of beer and dine off the vast buffet, the only tariff, as it were, the expected twenty-five-cent tip to the waiter, which insured the solid clientele of New York’s most sumptuous bar against the hordes of hungry