"How amazing that it should be so!"

"Yes, a genuine expert can always foretell a thing that is five

hundred years away easier than he can a thing that's only five

hundred seconds off."

"And yet in reason it should clearly be the other way; it should

be five hundred times as easy to foretell the last as the first,

for, indeed, it is so close by that one uninspired might almost

see it. In truth, the law of prophecy doth contradict the likelihoods,

most strangely making the difficult easy, and the easy difficult."

It was a wise head. A peasant's cap was no safe disguise for it;

you could know it for a king's under a diving-bell, if you could

hear it work its intellect.

I had a new trade now, and plenty of business in it. The king

was as hungry to find out everything that was going to happen

during the next thirteen centuries as if he were expecting to live

in them. From that time out, I prophesied myself bald-headed

trying to supply the demand. I have done some indiscreet things in

my day, but this thing of playing myself for a prophet was the

worst. Still, it had its ameliorations. A prophet doesn't have

to have any brains. They are good to have, of course, for the

ordinary exigencies of life, but they are no use in professional

work. It is the restfulest vocation there is. When the spirit of

prophecy comes upon you, you merely cake your intellect and lay it

off in a cool place for a rest, and unship your jaw and leave it

alone; it will work itself: the result is prophecy.

Every day a knight-errant or so came along, and the sight of them

fired the king's martial spirit every time. He would have forgotten

himself, sure, and said something to them in a style a suspicious

shade or so above his ostensible degree, and so I always got him

well out of the road in time. Then he would stand and look with

all his eyes; and a proud light would flash from them, and his

nostrils would inflate like a war-horse's, and I knew he was

longing for a brush with them. But about noon of the third day

I had stopped in the road to take a precaution which had been

suggested by the whip-stroke that had fallen to my share two days

before; a precaution which I had afterward decided to leave untaken,

I was so loath to institute it; but now I had just had a fresh

reminder: while striding heedlessly along, with jaw spread and

intellect at rest, for I was prophesying, I stubbed my toe and

fell sprawling. I was so pale I couldn't think for a moment;

then I got softly and carefully up and unstrapped my knapsack.

I had that dynamite bomb in it, done up in wool in a box. It was

a good thing to have along; the time would come when I could do

a valuable miracle with it, maybe, but it was a nervous thing

to have about me, and I didn't like to ask the king to carry it.

Yet I must either throw it away or think up some safe way to get

along with its society. I got it out and slipped it into my scrip,

and just then here came a couple of knights. The king stood,

stately as a statue, gazing toward them--had forgotten himself again,

of course--and before I could get a word of warning out, it was

time for him to skip, and well that he did it, too. He supposed

they would turn aside. Turn aside to avoid trampling peasant dirt

under foot? When had he ever turned aside himself--or ever had

the chance to do it, if a peasant saw him or any other noble knight

in time to judiciously save him the trouble? The knights paid

no attention to the king at all; it was his place to look out

himself, and if he hadn't skipped he would have been placidly

ridden down, and laughed at besides.

The king was in a flaming fury, and launched out his challenge

and epithets with a most royal vigor. The knights were some little

distance by now. They halted, greatly surprised, and turned in

their saddles and looked back, as if wondering if it might be worth

while to bother with such scum as we. Then they wheeled and

started for us. Not a moment must be lost. I started for _them_.

I passed them at a rattling gait, and as I went by I flung out a

hair-lifting soul-scorching thirteen-jointed insult which made

the king's effort poor and cheap by comparison. I got it out of

the nineteenth century where they know how. They had such headway

that they were nearly to the king before they could check up;

then, frantic with rage, they stood up their horses on their hind

hoofs and whirled them around, and the next moment here they came,

breast to breast. I was seventy yards off, then, and scrambling up

a great bowlder at the roadside. When they were within thirty

yards of me they let their long lances droop to a level, depressed

their mailed heads, and so, with their horse-hair plumes streaming

straight out behind, most gallant to see, this lightning express

came tearing for me! When they were within fifteen yards, I sent

that bomb with a sure aim, and it struck the ground just under

the horses' noses.

Yes, it was a neat thing, very neat and pretty to see. It resembled

a steamboat explosion on the Mississippi; and during the next

fifteen minutes we stood under a steady drizzle of microscopic

fragments of knights and hardware and horse-flesh. I say we,

for the king joined the audience, of course, as soon as he had got

his breath again. There was a hole there which would afford steady

work for all the people in that region for some years to come

--in trying to explain it, I mean; as for filling it up, that service

would be comparatively prompt, and would fall to the lot of a

select few--peasants of that seignory; and they wouldn't get

anything for it, either.

But I explained it to the king myself. I said it was done with a

dynamite bomb. This information did him no damage, because it

left him as intelligent as he was before. However, it was a noble

miracle, in his eyes, and was another settler for Merlin. I thought

it well enough to explain that this was a miracle of so rare a sort

that it couldn't be done except when the atmospheric conditions

were just right. Otherwise he would be encoring it every time we

had a good subject, and that would be inconvenient, because I

hadn't any more bombs along.

CHAPTER XXVIII

DRILLING THE KING

On the morning of the fourth day, when it was just sunrise, and we

had been tramping an hour in the chill dawn, I came to a resolution:

the king _must_ be drilled; things could not go on so, he must be

taken in hand and deliberately and conscientiously drilled, or we

couldn't ever venture to enter a dwelling; the very cats would know

this masquerader for a humbug and no peasant. So I called a halt

and said:

"Sire, as between clothes and countenance, you are all right, there

is no discrepancy; but as between your clothes and your bearing,

you are all wrong, there is a most noticeable discrepancy. Your

soldierly stride, your lordly port--these will not do. You stand

too straight, your looks are too high, too confident. The cares

of a kingdom do not stoop the shoulders, they do not droop the chin,

they do not depress the high level of the eye-glance, they do not

put doubt and fear in the heart and hang out the signs of them

in slouching body and unsure step. It is the sordid cares of

the lowly born that do these things. You must learn the trick;

you must imitate the trademarks of poverty, misery, oppression,

insult, and the other several and common inhumanities that sap

the manliness out of a man and make him a loyal and proper and

approved subject and a satisfaction to his masters, or the very

infants will know you for better than your disguise, and we shall go

to pieces at the first hut we stop at. Pray try to walk like this."

The king took careful note, and then tried an imitation.

"Pretty fair--pretty fair. Chin a little lower, please--there, very

good. Eyes too high; pray don't look at the horizon, look at the

ground, ten steps in front of you. Ah--that is better, that is

very good. Wait, please; you betray too much vigor, too much

decision; you want more of a shamble. Look at me, please--this is

what I mean.... Now you are getting it; that is the idea--at least,

it sort of approaches it.... Yes, that is pretty fair. _But!_

There is a great big something wanting, I don't quite know what

it is. Please walk thirty yards, so that I can get a perspective

on the thing.... Now, then--your head's right, speed's right,

shoulders right, eyes right, chin right, gait, carriage, general

style right--everything's right! And yet the fact remains, the

aggregate's wrong. The account don't balance. Do it again,

please.... _Now_ I think I begin to see what it is. Yes, I've

struck it. You see, the genuine spiritlessness is wanting; that's

what's the trouble. It's all _amateur_--mechanical details all

right, almost to a hair; everything about the delusion perfect,

except that it don't delude."

"What, then, must one do, to prevail?"

"Let me think... I can't seem to quite get at it. In fact, there

isn't anything that can right the matter but practice. This is

a good place for it: roots and stony ground to break up your

stately gait, a region not liable to interruption, only one field

and one hut in sight, and they so far away that nobody could

see us from there. It will be well to move a little off the road

and put in the whole day drilling you, sire."

After the drill had gone on a little while, I said:

"Now, sire, imagine that we are at the door of the hut yonder,

and the family are before us. Proceed, please--accost the head

of the house."

The king unconsciously straightened up like a monument, and said,

with frozen austerity:

"Varlet, bring a seat; and serve to me what cheer ye have."

"Ah, your grace, that is not well done."

"In what lacketh it?"

"These people do not call _each other_ varlets."

"Nay, is that true?"

"Yes; only those above them call them so."

"Then must I try again. I will call him villein."

"No-no; for he may be a freeman."

"Ah--so. Then peradventure I should call him goodman."

"That would answer, your grace, but it would be still better if

you said friend, or brother."

"Brother!--to dirt like that?"

"Ah, but _we_ are pretending to be dirt like that, too."

"It is even true. I will say it. Brother, bring a seat, and

thereto what cheer ye have, withal. Now 'tis right."

"Not quite, not wholly right. You have asked for one, not _us_

--for one, not both; food for one, a seat for one."

The king looked puzzled--he wasn't a very heavy weight, intellectually.

His head was an hour-glass; it could stow an idea, but it had to do

it a grain at a time, not the whole idea at once.

"Would _you_ have a seat also--and sit?"

"If I did not sit, the man would perceive that we were only pretending

to be equals--and playing the deception pretty poorly, too."

"It is well and truly said! How wonderful is truth, come it in

whatsoever unexpected form it may! Yes, he must bring out seats

and food for both, and in serving us present not ewer and napkin

with more show of respect to the one than to the other."

"And there is even yet a detail that needs correcting. He must

bring nothing outside; we will go in--in among the dirt, and

possibly other repulsive things,--and take the food with the

household, and after the fashion of the house, and all on equal

terms, except the man be of the serf class; and finally, there

will be no ewer and no napkin, whether he be serf or free. Please

walk again, my liege. There--it is better--it is the best yet;

but not perfect. The shoulders have known no ignobler burden

than iron mail, and they will not stoop."

"Give me, then, the bag. I will learn the spirit that goeth

with burdens that have not honor. It is the spirit that stoopeth

the shoulders, I ween, and not the weight; for armor is heavy,

yet it is a proud burden, and a man standeth straight in it....

Nay, but me no buts, offer me no objections. I will have the thing.

Strap it upon my back."

He was complete now with that knapsack on, and looked as little

like a king as any man I had ever seen. But it was an obstinate

pair of shoulders; they could not seem to learn the trick of

stooping with any sort of deceptive naturalness. The drill went on,

I prompting and correcting:

"Now, make believe you are in debt, and eaten up by relentless

creditors; you are out of work--which is horse-shoeing, let us

say--and can get none; and your wife is sick, your children are

crying because they are hungry--"

And so on, and so on. I drilled him as representing in turn all

sorts of people out of luck and suffering dire privations and

misfortunes. But lord, it was only just words, words--they meant

nothing in the world to him, I might just as well have whistled.

Words realize nothing, vivify nothing to you, unless you have

suffered in your own person the thing which the words try to

describe. There are wise people who talk ever so knowingly and

complacently about "the working classes," and satisfy themselves

that a day's hard intellectual work is very much harder than

a day's hard manual toil, and is righteously entitled to much

bigger pay. Why, they really think that, you know, because they

know all about the one, but haven't tried the other. But I know

all about both; and so far as I am concerned, there isn't money

enough in the universe to hire me to swing a pickaxe thirty days,

but I will do the hardest kind of intellectual work for just as

near nothing as you can cipher it down--and I will be satisfied, too.

Intellectual "work" is misnamed; it is a pleasure, a dissipation,

and is its own highest reward. The poorest paid architect,

engineer, general, author, sculptor, painter, lecturer, advocate,

legislator, actor, preacher, singer is constructively in heaven

when he is at work; and as for the musician with the fiddle-bow

in his hand who sits in the midst of a great orchestra with the

ebbing and flowing tides of divine sound washing over him--why,

certainly, he is at work, if you wish to call it that, but lord,

it's a sarcasm just the same. The law of work does seem utterly

unfair--but there it is, and nothing can change it: the higher

the pay in enjoyment the worker gets out of it, the higher shall

be his pay in cash, also. And it's also the very law of those

transparent swindles, transmissible nobility and kingship.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE SMALLPOX HUT

When we arrived at that hut at mid-afternoon, we saw no signs

of life about it. The field near by had been denuded of its crop

some time before, and had a skinned look, so exhaustively had

it been harvested and gleaned. Fences, sheds, everything had a

ruined look, and were eloquent of poverty. No animal was around

anywhere, no living thing in sight. The stillness was awful, it

was like the stillness of death. The cabin was a one-story one,

whose thatch was black with age, and ragged from lack of repair.

The door stood a trifle ajar. We approached it stealthily--on tiptoe

and at half-breath--for that is the way one's feeling makes him do,

at such a time. The king knocked. We waited. No answer. Knocked

again. No answer. I pushed the door softly open and looked in.

I made out some dim forms, and a woman started up from the ground

and stared at me, as one does who is wakened from sleep. Presently

she found her voice:

"Have mercy!" she pleaded. "All is taken, nothing is left."

"I have not come to take anything, poor woman."

"You are not a priest?"

"No."

"Nor come not from the lord of the manor?"

"No, I am a stranger."

"Oh, then, for the fear of God, who visits with misery and death

such as be harmless, tarry not here, but fly! This place is under

his curse--and his Church's."

"Let me come in and help you--you are sick and in trouble."

I was better used to the dim light now. I could see her hollow

eyes fixed upon me. I could see how emaciated she was.

"I tell you the place is under the Church's ban. Save yourself

--and go, before some straggler see thee here, and report it."

"Give yourself no trouble about me; I don't care anything for the

Church's curse. Let me help you."

"Now all good spirits--if there be any such--bless thee for that

word. Would God I had a sup of water!--but hold, hold, forget

I said it, and fly; for there is that here that even he that

feareth not the Church must fear: this disease whereof we die.

Leave us, thou brave, good stranger, and take with thee such

whole and sincere blessing as them that be accursed can give."

But before this I had picked up a wooden bowl and was rushing

past the king on my way to the brook. It was ten yards away.

When I got back and entered, the king was within, and was opening

the shutter that closed the window-hole, to let in air and light.

The place was full of a foul stench. I put the bowl to the woman's

lips, and as she gripped it with her eager talons the shutter came

open and a strong light flooded her face. Smallpox!

I sprang to the king, and said in his ear:

"Out of the door on the instant, sire! the woman is dying of that

disease that wasted the skirts of Camelot two years ago."

He did not budge.

"Of a truth I shall remain--and likewise help."

I whispered again:

"King, it must not be. You must go."

"Ye mean well, and ye speak not unwisely. But it were shame that

a king should know fear, and shame that belted knight should

withhold his hand where be such as need succor. Peace, I will

not go. It is you who must go. The Church's ban is not upon me,

but it forbiddeth you to be here, and she will deal with you with

a heavy hand an word come to her of your trespass."

It was a desperate place for him to be in, and might cost him his

life, but it was no use to argue with him. If he considered his

knightly honor at stake here, that was the end of argument; he

would stay, and nothing could prevent it; I was aware of that.

And so I dropped the subject. The woman spoke:

"Fair sir, of your kindness will ye climb the ladder there,

and bring me news of what ye find? Be not afraid to report,

for times can come when even a mother's heart is past breaking

--being already broke."

"Abide," said the king, "and give the woman to eat. I will go."

And he put down the knapsack.

I turned to start, but the king had already started. He halted,

and looked down upon a man who lay in a dim light, and had not

noticed us thus far, or spoken.

"Is it your husband?" the king asked.

"Yes."

"Is he asleep?"

"God be thanked for that one charity, yes--these three hours.

Where shall I pay to the full, my gratitude! for my heart is

bursting with it for that sleep he sleepeth now."

I said:

"We will be careful. We will not wake him."

"Ah, no, that ye will not, for he is dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes, what triumph it is to know it! None can harm him, none

insult him more. He is in heaven now, and happy; or if not there,

he bides in hell and is content; for in that place he will find

neither abbot nor yet bishop. We were boy and girl together; we

were man and wife these five and twenty years, and never separated

till this day. Think how long that is to love and suffer together.

This morning was he out of his mind, and in his fancy we were

boy and girl again and wandering in the happy fields; and so in

that innocent glad converse wandered he far and farther, still

lightly gossiping, and entered into those other fields we know

not of, and was shut away from mortal sight. And so there was

no parting, for in his fancy I went with him; he knew not but

I went with him, my hand in his--my young soft hand, not this

withered claw. Ah, yes, to go, and know it not; to separate and

know it not; how could one go peace--fuller than that? It was

his reward for a cruel life patiently borne."

There was a slight noise from the direction of the dim corner where

the ladder was. It was the king descending. I could see that he

was bearing something in one arm, and assisting himself with the

other. He came forward into the light; upon his breast lay a

slender girl of fifteen. She was but half conscious; she was dying

of smallpox. Here was heroism at its last and loftiest possibility,

its utmost summit; this was challenging death in the open field

unarmed, with all the odds against the challenger, no reward set

upon the contest, and no admiring world in silks and cloth of gold

to gaze and applaud; and yet the king's bearing was as serenely

brave as it had always been in those cheaper contests where knight

meets knight in equal fight and clothed in protecting steel. He

was great now; sublimely great. The rude statues of his ancestors

in his palace should have an addition--I would see to that; and it

would not be a mailed king killing a giant or a dragon, like the

rest, it would be a king in commoner's garb bearing death in his

arms that a peasant mother might look her last upon her child and

be comforted.

He laid the girl down by her mother, who poured out endearments

and caresses from an overflowing heart, and one could detect a

flickering faint light of response in the child's eyes, but that

was all. The mother hung over her, kissing her, petting her, and

imploring her to speak, but the lips only moved and no sound came.

I snatched my liquor flask from my knapsack, but the woman forbade

me, and said:

"No--she does not suffer; it is better so. It might bring her back

to life. None that be so good and kind as ye are would do her

that cruel hurt. For look you--what is left to live for? Her

brothers are gone, her father is gone, her mother goeth, the

Church's curse is upon her, and none may shelter or befriend her

even though she lay perishing in the road. She is desolate. I have

not asked you, good heart, if her sister be still on live, here

overhead; I had no need; ye had gone back, else, and not left

the poor thing forsaken--"

"She lieth at peace," interrupted the king, in a subdued voice.

"I would not change it. How rich is this day in happiness! Ah,

my Annis, thou shalt join thy sister soon--thou'rt on thy way,

and these be merciful friends that will not hinder."

And so she fell to murmuring and cooing over the girl again, and

softly stroking her face and hair, and kissing her and calling her

by endearing names; but there was scarcely sign of response now

in the glazing eyes. I saw tears well from the king's eyes, and

trickle down his face. The woman noticed them, too, and said:

"Ah, I know that sign: thou'st a wife at home, poor soul, and

you and she have gone hungry to bed, many's the time, that the

little ones might have your crust; you know what poverty is, and

the daily insults of your betters, and the heavy hand of the Church

and the king."

The king winced under this accidental home-shot, but kept still;

he was learning his part; and he was playing it well, too, for

a pretty dull beginner. I struck up a diversion. I offered the

woman food and liquor, but she refused both. She would allow

nothing to come between her and the release of death. Then I slipped

away and brought the dead child from aloft, and laid it by her.

This broke her down again, and there was another scene that was

full of heartbreak. By and by I made another diversion, and beguiled

her to sketch her story.

"Ye know it well yourselves, having suffered it--for truly none

of our condition in Britain escape it. It is the old, weary tale.

We fought and struggled and succeeded; meaning by success, that

we lived and did not die; more than that is not to be claimed. No

troubles came that we could not outlive, till this year brought

them; then came they all at once, as one might say, and overwhelmed

us. Years ago the lord of the manor planted certain fruit trees on

our farm; in the best part of it, too--a grievous wrong and shame--"

"But it was his right," interrupted the king.

"None denieth that, indeed; an the law mean anything, what is

the lord's is his, and what is mine is his also. Our farm was

ours by lease, therefore 'twas likewise his, to do with it as he

would. Some little time ago, three of those trees were found hewn

down. Our three grown sons ran frightened to report the crime.

Well, in his lordship's dungeon there they lie, who saith there

shall they lie and rot till they confess. They have naught to

confess, being innocent, wherefore there will they remain until

they die. Ye know that right well, I ween. Think how this left us;

a man, a woman and two children, to gather a crop that was planted

by so much greater force, yes, and protect it night and day from

pigeons and prowling animals that be sacred and must not be hurt

by any of our sort. When my lord's crop was nearly ready for

the harvest, so also was ours; when his bell rang to call us to

his fields to harvest his crop for nothing, he would not allow that

I and my two girls should count for our three captive sons, but

for only two of them; so, for the lacking one were we daily fined.

All this time our own crop was perishing through neglect; and so

both the priest and his lordship fined us because their shares

of it were suffering through damage. In the end the fines ate up

our crop--and they took it all; they took it all and made us harvest

it for them, without pay or food, and we starving. Then the worst

came when I, being out of my mind with hunger and loss of my boys,

and grief to see my husband and my little maids in rags and misery

and despair, uttered a deep blasphemy--oh! a thousand of them!

--against the Church and the Church's ways. It was ten days ago.

I had fallen sick with this disease, and it was to the priest

I said the words, for he was come to chide me for lack of due

humility under the chastening hand of God. He carried my trespass

to his betters; I was stubborn; wherefore, presently upon my head

and upon all heads that were dear to me, fell the curse of Rome.

"Since that day we are avoided, shunned with horror. None has

come near this hut to know whether we live or not. The rest of us

were taken down. Then I roused me and got up, as wife and mother

will. It was little they could have eaten in any case; it was

less than little they had to eat. But there was water, and I gave

them that. How they craved it! and how they blessed it! But the

end came yesterday; my strength broke down. Yesterday was the

last time I ever saw my husband and this youngest child alive.

I have lain here all these hours--these ages, ye may say--listening,

listening for any sound up there that--"

She gave a sharp quick glance at her eldest daughter, then cried

out, "Oh, my darling!" and feebly gathered the stiffening form

to her sheltering arms. She had recognized the death-rattle.

CHAPTER XXX

THE TRAGEDY OF THE MANOR-HOUSE

At midnight all was over, and we sat in the presence of four

corpses. We covered them with such rags as we could find, and

started away, fastening the door behind us. Their home must be

these people's grave, for they could not have Christian burial,

or be admitted to consecrated ground. They were as dogs, wild

beasts, lepers, and no soul that valued its hope of eternal life

would throw it away by meddling in any sort with these rebuked and

smitten outcasts.

We had not moved four steps when I caught a sound as of footsteps

upon gravel. My heart flew to my throat. We must not be seen

coming from that house. I plucked at the king's robe and we drew

back and took shelter behind the corner of the cabin.

"Now we are safe," I said, "but it was a close call--so to speak.

If the night had been lighter he might have seen us, no doubt,

he seemed to be so near."

"Mayhap it is but a beast and not a man at all."

"True. But man or beast, it will be wise to stay here a minute

and let it get by and out of the way."

"Hark! It cometh hither."

True again. The step was coming toward us--straight toward the hut.

It must be a beast, then, and we might as well have saved our

trepidation. I was going to step out, but the king laid his hand

upon my arm. There was a moment of silence, then we heard a soft

knock on the cabin door. It made me shiver. Presently the knock

was repeated, and then we heard these words in a guarded voice:

"Mother! Father! Open--we have got free, and we bring news to

pale your cheeks but glad your hearts; and we may not tarry, but

must fly! And--but they answer not. Mother! father!--"

I drew the king toward the other end of the hut and whispered:

"Come--now we can get to the road."

The king hesitated, was going to demur; but just then we heard

the door give way, and knew that those desolate men were in the

presence of their dead.

"Come, my liege! in a moment they will strike a light, and then

will follow that which it would break your heart to hear."

He did not hesitate this time. The moment we were in the road

I ran; and after a moment he threw dignity aside and followed.

I did not want to think of what was happening in the hut--I couldn't

bear it; I wanted to drive it out of my mind; so I struck into the

first subject that lay under that one in my mind:

"I have had the disease those people died of, and so have nothing

to fear; but if you have not had it also--"

He broke in upon me to say he was in trouble, and it was his

conscience that was troubling him:

"These young men have got free, they say--but _how_? It is not

likely that their lord hath set them free."

"Oh, no, I make no doubt they escaped."

"That is my trouble; I have a fear that this is so, and your

suspicion doth confirm it, you having the same fear."

"I should not call it by that name though. I do suspect that they

escaped, but if they did, I am not sorry, certainly."

"I am not sorry, I _think_--but--"

"What is it? What is there for one to be troubled about?"

"_If_ they did escape, then are we bound in duty to lay hands upon

them and deliver them again to their lord; for it is not seemly

that one of his quality should suffer a so insolent and high-handed

outrage from persons of their base degree."

There it was again. He could see only one side of it. He was

born so, educated so, his veins were full of ancestral blood that

was rotten with this sort of unconscious brutality, brought down

by inheritance from a long procession of hearts that had each done

its share toward poisoning the stream. To imprison these men

without proof, and starve their kindred, was no harm, for they were

merely peasants and subject to the will and pleasure of their lord,

no matter what fearful form it might take; but for these men to

break out of unjust captivity was insult and outrage, and a thing

not to be countenanced by any conscientious person who knew his

duty to his sacred caste.

I worked more than half an hour before I got him to change the

subject--and even then an outside matter did it for me. This was

a something which caught our eyes as we struck the summit of a

small hill--a red glow, a good way off.

"That's a fire," said I.

Fires interested me considerably, because I was getting a good

deal of an insurance business started, and was also training some

horses and building some steam fire-engines, with an eye to a paid

fire department by and by. The priests opposed both my fire and

life insurance, on the ground that it was an insolent attempt to

hinder the decrees of God; and if you pointed out that they did not

hinder the decrees in the least, but only modified the hard

consequences of them if you took out policies and had luck, they

retorted that that was gambling against the decrees of God, and was

just as bad. So they managed to damage those industries more

or less, but I got even on my Accident business. As a rule, a knight

is a lummox, and some times even a labrick, and hence open to pretty

poor arguments when they come glibly from a superstition-monger,

but even _he_ could see the practical side of a thing once in a while;

and so of late you couldn't clean up a tournament and pile the

result without finding one of my accident-tickets in every helmet.

We stood there awhile, in the thick darkness and stillness, looking

toward the red blur in the distance, and trying to make out the

meaning of a far-away murmur that rose and fell fitfully on the

night. Sometimes it swelled up and for a moment seemed less

remote; but when we were hopefully expecting it to betray its cause

and nature, it dulled and sank again, carrying its mystery with it.

We started down the hill in its direction, and the winding road

plunged us at once into almost solid darkness--darkness that was

packed and crammed in between two tall forest walls. We groped

along down for half a mile, perhaps, that murmur growing more and

more distinct all the time. The coming storm threatening more and

more, with now and then a little shiver of wind, a faint show of

lightning, and dull grumblings of distant thunder. I was in the

lead. I ran against something--a soft heavy something which gave,

slightly, to the impulse of my weight; at the same moment the

lightning glared out, and within a foot of my face was the writhing

face of a man who was hanging from the limb of a tree! That is,

it seemed to be writhing, but it was not. It was a grewsome sight.

Straightway there was an ear-splitting explosion of thunder, and

the bottom of heaven fell out; the rain poured down in a deluge.

No matter, we must try to cut this man down, on the chance that

there might be life in him yet, mustn't we? The lightning came

quick and sharp now, and the place was alternately noonday and

midnight. One moment the man would be hanging before me in an

intense light, and the next he was blotted out again in the darkness.

I told the king we must cut him down. The king at once objected.

"If he hanged himself, he was willing to lose him property to

his lord; so let him be. If others hanged him, belike they had

the right--let him hang."

"But--"

"But me no buts, but even leave him as he is. And for yet another

reason. When the lightning cometh again--there, look abroad."

Two others hanging, within fifty yards of us!

"It is not weather meet for doing useless courtesies unto dead folk.

They are past thanking you. Come--it is unprofitable to tarry here."

There was reason in what he said, so we moved on. Within the next

mile we counted six more hanging forms by the blaze of the lightning,

and altogether it was a grisly excursion. That murmur was a murmur

no longer, it was a roar; a roar of men's voices. A man came flying

by now, dimly through the darkness, and other men chasing him.

They disappeared. Presently another case of the kind occurred,

and then another and another. Then a sudden turn of the road

brought us in sight of that fire--it was a large manor-house, and

little or nothing was left of it--and everywhere men were flying

and other men raging after them in pursuit.

I warned the king that this was not a safe place for strangers.

We would better get away from the light, until matters should

improve. We stepped back a little, and hid in the edge of the

wood. From this hiding-place we saw both men and women hunted

by the mob. The fearful work went on until nearly dawn. Then,

the fire being out and the storm spent, the voices and flying

footsteps presently ceased, and darkness and stillness reigned again.

We ventured out, and hurried cautiously away; and although we were

worn out and sleepy, we kept on until we had put this place some

miles behind us. Then we asked hospitality at the hut of a charcoal

burner, and got what was to be had. A woman was up and about, but

the man was still asleep, on a straw shake-down, on the clay floor.

The woman seemed uneasy until I explained that we were travelers

and had lost our way and been wandering in the woods all night.

She became talkative, then, and asked if we had heard of the

terrible goings-on at the manor-house of Abblasoure. Yes, we had

heard of them, but what we wanted now was rest and sleep. The

king broke in:

"Sell us the house and take yourselves away, for we be perilous

company, being late come from people that died of the Spotted Death."

It was good of him, but unnecessary. One of the commonest decorations

of the nation was the waffle-iron face. I had early noticed that

the woman and her husband were both so decorated. She made us

entirely welcome, and had no fears; and plainly she was immensely

impressed by the king's proposition; for, of course, it was a good

deal of an event in her life to run across a person of the king's

humble appearance who was ready to buy a man's house for the sake

of a night's lodging. It gave her a large respect for us, and she

strained the lean possibilities of her hovel to the utmost to make

us comfortable.

We slept till far into the afternoon, and then got up hungry enough to

make cotter fare quite palatable to the king, the more particularly

as it was scant in quantity. And also in variety; it consisted

solely of onions, salt, and the national black bread made out of

horse-feed. The woman told us about the affair of the evening

before. At ten or eleven at night, when everybody was in bed,

the manor-house burst into flames. The country-side swarmed to

the rescue, and the family were saved, with one exception, the

master. He did not appear. Everybody was frantic over this loss,

and two brave yeomen sacrificed their lives in ransacking the

burning house seeking that valuable personage. But after a while

he was found--what was left of him--which was his corpse. It was

in a copse three hundred yards away, bound, gagged, stabbed in a

dozen places.

Who had done this? Suspicion fell upon a humble family in the

neighborhood who had been lately treated with peculiar harshness

by the baron; and from these people the suspicion easily extended

itself to their relatives and familiars. A suspicion was enough;

my lord's liveried retainers proclaimed an instant crusade against

these people, and were promptly joined by the community in general.

The woman's husband had been active with the mob, and had not

returned home until nearly dawn. He was gone now to find out

what the general result had been. While we were still talking he

came back from his quest. His report was revolting enough. Eighteen

persons hanged or butchered, and two yeomen and thirteen prisoners

lost in the fire.

"And how many prisoners were there altogether in the vaults?"

"Thirteen."

"Then every one of them was lost?"

"Yes, all."

"But the people arrived in time to save the family; how is it they

could save none of the prisoners?"

The man looked puzzled, and said:

"Would one unlock the vaults at such a time? Marry, some would

have escaped."

"Then you mean that nobody _did_ unlock them?"

"None went near them, either to lock or unlock. It standeth to

reason that the bolts were fast; wherefore it was only needful

to establish a watch, so that if any broke the bonds he might not

escape, but be taken. None were taken."

"Natheless, three did escape," said the king, "and ye will do well

to publish it and set justice upon their track, for these murthered

the baron and fired the house."

I was just expecting he would come out with that. For a moment

the man and his wife showed an eager interest in this news and

an impatience to go out and spread it; then a sudden something

else betrayed itself in their faces, and they began to ask questions.

I answered the questions myself, and narrowly watched the effects

produced. I was soon satisfied that the knowledge of who these

three prisoners were had somehow changed the atmosphere; that

our hosts' continued eagerness to go and spread the news was now

only pretended and not real. The king did not notice the change,

and I was glad of that. I worked the conversation around toward

other details of the night's proceedings, and noted that these

people were relieved to have it take that direction.

The painful thing observable about all this business was the

alacrity with which this oppressed community had turned their

cruel hands against their own class in the interest of the common

oppressor. This man and woman seemed to feel that in a quarrel

between a person of their own class and his lord, it was the natural

and proper and rightful thing for that poor devil's whole caste

to side with the master and fight his battle for him, without ever

stopping to inquire into the rights or wrongs of the matter. This

man had been out helping to hang his neighbors, and had done his

work with zeal, and yet was aware that there was nothing against

them but a mere suspicion, with nothing back of it describable

as evidence, still neither he nor his wife seemed to see anything

horrible about it.

This was depressing--to a man with the dream of a republic in his

head. It reminded me of a time thirteen centuries away, when

the "poor whites" of our South who were always despised and

frequently insulted by the slave-lords around them, and who owed

their base condition simply to the presence of slavery in their

midst, were yet pusillanimously ready to side with the slave-lords

in all political moves for the upholding and perpetuating of

slavery, and did also finally shoulder their muskets and pour out

their lives in an effort to prevent the destruction of that very

institution which degraded them. And there was only one redeeming

feature connected with that pitiful piece of history; and that was,

that secretly the "poor white" did detest the slave-lord, and did

feel his own shame. That feeling was not brought to the surface,

but the fact that it was there and could have been brought out,

under favoring circumstances, was something--in fact, it was enough;

for it showed that a man is at bottom a man, after all, even if it

doesn't show on the outside.

Well, as it turned out, this charcoal burner was just the twin of

the Southern "poor white" of the far future. The king presently

showed impatience, and said:

"An ye prattle here all the day, justice will miscarry. Think ye

the criminals will abide in their father's house? They are fleeing,

they are not waiting. You should look to it that a party of horse

be set upon their track."

The woman paled slightly, but quite perceptibly, and the man looked

flustered and irresolute. I said:

"Come, friend, I will walk a little way with you, and explain which

direction I think they would try to take. If they were merely

resisters of the gabelle or some kindred absurdity I would try

to protect them from capture; but when men murder a person of

high degree and likewise burn his house, that is another matter."

The last remark was for the king--to quiet him. On the road

the man pulled his resolution together, and began the march with

a steady gait, but there was no eagerness in it. By and by I said:

"What relation were these men to you--cousins?"

He turned as white as his layer of charcoal would let him, and

stopped, trembling.

"Ah, my God, how know ye that?"

"I didn't know it; it was a chance guess."

"Poor lads, they are lost. And good lads they were, too."

"Were you actually going yonder to tell on them?"

He didn't quite know how to take that; but he said, hesitatingly:

"Ye-s."

"Then I think you are a damned scoundrel!"

It made him as glad as if I had called him an angel.

"Say the good words again, brother! for surely ye mean that ye

would not betray me an I failed of my duty."

"Duty? There is no duty in the matter, except the duty to keep

still and let those men get away. They've done a righteous deed."

He looked pleased; pleased, and touched with apprehension at the

same time. He looked up and down the road to see that no one

was coming, and then said in a cautious voice:

"From what land come you, brother, that you speak such perilous

words, and seem not to be afraid?"

"They are not perilous words when spoken to one of my own caste,

I take it. You would not tell anybody I said them?"

"I? I would be drawn asunder by wild horses first."

"Well, then, let me say my say. I have no fears of your repeating

it. I think devil's work has been done last night upon those

innocent poor people. That old baron got only what he deserved.

If I had my way, all his kind should have the same luck."

Fear and depression vanished from the man's manner, and gratefulness

and a brave animation took their place:

"Even though you be a spy, and your words a trap for my undoing,

yet are they such refreshment that to hear them again and others

like to them, I would go to the gallows happy, as having had one

good feast at least in a starved life. And I will say my say now,

and ye may report it if ye be so minded. I helped to hang my

neighbors for that it were peril to my own life to show lack of

zeal in the master's cause; the others helped for none other reason.

All rejoice to-day that he is dead, but all do go about seemingly

sorrowing, and shedding the hypocrite's tear, for in that lies

safety. I have said the words, I have said the words! the only

ones that have ever tasted good in my mouth, and the reward of

that taste is sufficient. Lead on, an ye will, be it even to the

scaffold, for I am ready."

There it was, you see. A man is a man, at bottom. Whole ages

of abuse and oppression cannot crush the manhood clear out of him.

Whoever thinks it a mistake is himself mistaken. Yes, there is

plenty good enough material for a republic in the most degraded

people that ever existed--even the Russians; plenty of manhood

in them--even in the Germans--if one could but force it out of

its timid and suspicious privacy, to overthrow and trample in the

mud any throne that ever was set up and any nobility that ever

supported it. We should see certain things yet, let us hope and

believe. First, a modified monarchy, till Arthur's days were done,

then the destruction of the throne, nobility abolished, every

member of it bound out to some useful trade, universal suffrage

instituted, and the whole government placed in the hands of the

men and women of the nation there to remain. Yes, there was no

occasion to give up my dream yet a while.

CHAPTER XXXI

MARCO

We strolled along in a sufficiently indolent fashion now, and

talked. We must dispose of about the amount of time it ought

to take to go to the little hamlet of Abblasoure and put justice

on the track of those murderers and get back home again. And

meantime I had an auxiliary interest which had never paled yet,

never lost its novelty for me since I had been in Arthur's kingdom:

the behavior--born of nice and exact subdivisions of caste--of chance

passers-by toward each other. Toward the shaven monk who trudged

along with his cowl tilted back and the sweat washing down his

fat jowls, the coal-burner was deeply reverent; to the gentleman

he was abject; with the small farmer and the free mechanic he was

cordial and gossipy; and when a slave passed by with a countenance

respectfully lowered, this chap's nose was in the air--he couldn't

even see him. Well, there are times when one would like to hang

the whole human race and finish the farce.

Presently we struck an incident. A small mob of half-naked boys

and girls came tearing out of the woods, scared and shrieking.

The eldest among them were not more than twelve or fourteen years

old. They implored help, but they were so beside themselves that

we couldn't make out what the matter was. However, we plunged

into the wood, they skurrying in the lead, and the trouble was

quickly revealed: they had hanged a little fellow with a bark rope,

and he was kicking and struggling, in the process of choking to

death. We rescued him, and fetched him around. It was some more

human nature; the admiring little folk imitating their elders;

they were playing mob, and had achieved a success which promised

to be a good deal more serious than they had bargained for.

It was not a dull excursion for me. I managed to put in the time

very well. I made various acquaintanceships, and in my quality

of stranger was able to ask as many questions as I wanted to.

A thing which naturally interested me, as a statesman, was the

matter of wages. I picked up what I could under that head during

the afternoon. A man who hasn't had much experience, and doesn't

think, is apt to measure a nation's prosperity or lack of prosperity

by the mere size of the prevailing wages; if the wages be high, the

nation is prosperous; if low, it isn't. Which is an error. It

isn't what sum you get, it's how much you can buy with it, that's

the important thing; and it's that that tells whether your wages

are high in fact or only high in name. I could remember how it

was in the time of our great civil war in the nineteenth century.

In the North a carpenter got three dollars a day, gold valuation;

in the South he got fifty--payable in Confederate shinplasters

worth a dollar a bushel. In the North a suit of overalls cost

three dollars--a day's wages; in the South it cost seventy-five

--which was two days' wages. Other things were in proportion.

Consequently, wages were twice as high in the North as they were

in the South, because the one wage had that much more purchasing

power than the other had.

Yes, I made various acquaintances in the hamlet and a thing that

gratified me a good deal was to find our new coins in circulation

--lots of milrays, lots of mills, lots of cents, a good many nickels,

and some silver; all this among the artisans and commonalty

generally; yes, and even some gold--but that was at the bank,

that is to say, the goldsmith's. I dropped in there while Marco,

the son of Marco, was haggling with a shopkeeper over a quarter

of a pound of salt, and asked for change for a twenty-dollar gold

piece. They furnished it--that is, after they had chewed the piece,

and rung it on the counter, and tried acid on it, and asked me

where I got it, and who I was, and where I was from, and where

I was going to, and when I expected to get there, and perhaps

a couple of hundred more questions; and when they got aground,

I went right on and furnished them a lot of information voluntarily;

told them I owned a dog, and his name was Watch, and my first wife

was a Free Will Baptist, and her grandfather was a Prohibitionist,

and I used to know a man who had two thumbs on each hand and a wart

on the inside of his upper lip, and died in the hope of a glorious

resurrection, and so on, and so on, and so on, till even that

hungry village questioner began to look satisfied, and also a shade

put out; but he had to respect a man of my financial strength,

and so he didn't give me any lip, but I noticed he took it out of

his underlings, which was a perfectly natural thing to do. Yes,

they changed my twenty, but I judged it strained the bank a little,

which was a thing to be expected, for it was the same as walking

into a paltry village store in the nineteenth century and requiring

the boss of it to change a two thousand-dollar bill for you all

of a sudden. He could do it, maybe; but at the same time he

would wonder how a small farmer happened to be carrying so much

money around in his pocket; which was probably this goldsmith's

thought, too; for he followed me to the door and stood there gazing

after me with reverent admiration.

Our new money was not only handsomely circulating, but its language

was already glibly in use; that is to say, people had dropped

the names of the former moneys, and spoke of things as being worth

so many dollars or cents or mills or milrays now. It was very

gratifying. We were progressing, that was sure.

I got to know several master mechanics, but about the most interesting

fellow among them was the blacksmith, Dowley. He was a live man

and a brisk talker, and had two journeymen and three apprentices,

and was doing a raging business. In fact, he was getting rich,

hand over fist, and was vastly respected. Marco was very proud of

having such a man for a friend. He had taken me there ostensibly

to let me see the big establishment which bought so much of his

charcoal, but really to let me see what easy and almost familiar

terms he was on with this great man. Dowley and I fraternized

at once; I had had just such picked men, splendid fellows, under

me in the Colt Arms Factory. I was bound to see more of him, so

I invited him to come out to Marco's Sunday, and dine with us.

Marco was appalled, and held his breath; and when the grandee

accepted, he was so grateful that he almost forgot to be astonished

at the condescension.

Marco's joy was exuberant--but only for a moment; then he grew

thoughtful, then sad; and when he heard me tell Dowley I should

have Dickon, the boss mason, and Smug, the boss wheelwright, out

there, too, the coal-dust on his face turned to chalk, and he lost

his grip. But I knew what was the matter with him; it was the

expense. He saw ruin before him; he judged that his financial

days were numbered. However, on our way to invite the others,

I said:

"You must allow me to have these friends come; and you must also

allow me to pay the costs."

His face cleared, and he said with spirit:

"But not all of it, not all of it. Ye cannot well bear a burden

like to this alone."

I stopped him, and said:

"Now let's understand each other on the spot, old friend. I am

only a farm bailiff, it is true; but I am not poor, nevertheless.

I have been very fortunate this year--you would be astonished

to know how I have thriven. I tell you the honest truth when I say

I could squander away as many as a dozen feasts like this and never

care _that_ for the expense!" and I snapped my fingers. I could

see myself rise a foot at a time in Marco's estimation, and when

I fetched out those last words I was become a very tower for style

and altitude. "So you see, you must let me have my way. You

can't contribute a cent to this orgy, that's _settled_."

"It's grand and good of you--"

"No, it isn't. You've opened your house to Jones and me in the

most generous way; Jones was remarking upon it to-day, just before

you came back from the village; for although he wouldn't be likely

to say such a thing to you--because Jones isn't a talker, and is

diffident in society--he has a good heart and a grateful, and

knows how to appreciate it when he is well treated; yes, you and

your wife have been very hospitable toward us--"

"Ah, brother, 'tis nothing--_such_ hospitality!"

"But it _is_ something; the best a man has, freely given, is always

something, and is as good as a prince can do, and ranks right

along beside it--for even a prince can but do his best. And so

we'll shop around and get up this layout now, and don't you worry

about the expense. I'm one of the worst spendthrifts that ever

was born. Why, do you know, sometimes in a single week I spend

--but never mind about that--you'd never believe it anyway."

And so we went gadding along, dropping in here and there, pricing

things, and gossiping with the shopkeepers about the riot, and now

and then running across pathetic reminders of it, in the persons of

shunned and tearful and houseless remnants of families whose homes

had been taken from them and their parents butchered or hanged.

The raiment of Marco and his wife was of coarse tow-linen and

linsey-woolsey respectively, and resembled township maps, it being

made up pretty exclusively of patches which had been added, township

by township, in the course of five or six years, until hardly a

hand's-breadth of the original garments was surviving and present.

Now I wanted to fit these people out with new suits, on account of

that swell company, and I didn't know just how to get at it

--with delicacy, until at last it struck me that as I had already

been liberal in inventing wordy gratitude for the king, it would

be just the thing to back it up with evidence of a substantial

sort; so I said:

"And Marco, there's another thing which you must permit--out of

kindness for Jones--because you wouldn't want to offend him.

He was very anxious to testify his appreciation in some way, but

he is so diffident he couldn't venture it himself, and so he begged

me to buy some little things and give them to you and Dame Phyllis

and let him pay for them without your ever knowing they came from

him--you know how a delicate person feels about that sort of thing

--and so I said I would, and we would keep mum. Well, his idea

was, a new outfit of clothes for you both--"

"Oh, it is wastefulness! It may not be, brother, it may not be.

Consider the vastness of the sum--"

"Hang the vastness of the sum! Try to keep quiet for a moment,

and see how it would seem; a body can't get in a word edgeways,

you talk so much. You ought to cure that, Marco; it isn't good

form, you know, and it will grow on you if you don't check it.

Yes, we'll step in here now and price this man's stuff--and don't

forget to remember to not let on to Jones that you know he had

anything to do with it. You can't think how curiously sensitive

and proud he is. He's a farmer--pretty fairly well-to-do farmer

--an I'm his bailiff; _but_--the imagination of that man! Why,

sometimes when he forgets himself and gets to blowing off, you'd

think he was one of the swells of the earth; and you might listen

to him a hundred years and never take him for a farmer--especially if

he talked agriculture. He _thinks_ he's a Sheol of a farmer; thinks

he's old Grayback from Wayback; but between you and me privately

he don't know as much about farming as he does about running

a kingdom--still, whatever he talks about, you want to drop your

underjaw and listen, the same as if you had never heard such

incredible wisdom in all your life before, and were afraid you

might die before you got enough of it. That will please Jones."

It tickled Marco to the marrow to hear about such an odd character;

but it also prepared him for accidents; and in my experience when

you travel with a king who is letting on to be something else and

can't remember it more than about half the time, you can't take

too many precautions.

This was the best store we had come across yet; it had everything

in it, in small quantities, from anvils and drygoods all the way

down to fish and pinchbeck jewelry. I concluded I would bunch

my whole invoice right here, and not go pricing around any more.

So I got rid of Marco, by sending him off to invite the mason and

the wheelwright, which left the field free to me. For I never care

to do a thing in a quiet way; it's got to be theatrical or I don't

take any interest in it. I showed up money enough, in a careless

way, to corral the shopkeeper's respect, and then I wrote down

a list of the things I wanted, and handed it to him to see if he

could read it. He could, and was proud to show that he could.

He said he had been educated by a priest, and could both read

and write. He ran it through, and remarked with satisfaction that

it was a pretty heavy bill. Well, and so it was, for a little

concern like that. I was not only providing a swell dinner, but

some odds and ends of extras. I ordered that the things be carted

out and delivered at the dwelling of Marco, the son of Marco,

by Saturday evening, and send me the bill at dinner-time Sunday.

He said I could depend upon his promptness and exactitude, it was

the rule of the house. He also observed that he would throw in

a couple of miller-guns for the Marcos gratis--that everybody

was using them now. He had a mighty opinion of that clever

device. I said:

"And please fill them up to the middle mark, too; and add that

to the bill."

He would, with pleasure. He filled them, and I took them with

me. I couldn't venture to tell him that the miller-gun was a

little invention of my own, and that I had officially ordered that

every shopkeeper in the kingdom keep them on hand and sell them

at government price--which was the merest trifle, and the shopkeeper

got that, not the government. We furnished them for nothing.

The king had hardly missed us when we got back at nightfall. He

had early dropped again into his dream of a grand invasion of Gaul

with the whole strength of his kingdom at his back, and the afternoon

had slipped away without his ever coming to himself again.

CHAPTER XXXII

DOWLEY'S HUMILIATION

Well, when that cargo arrived toward sunset, Saturday afternoon,

I had my hands full to keep the Marcos from fainting. They were

sure Jones and I were ruined past help, and they blamed themselves

as accessories to this bankruptcy. You see, in addition to the

dinner-materials, which called for a sufficiently round sum,

I had bought a lot of extras for the future comfort of the family:

for instance, a big lot of wheat, a delicacy as rare to the tables

of their class as was ice-cream to a hermit's; also a sizeable

deal dinner-table; also two entire pounds of salt, which was

another piece of extravagance in those people's eyes; also crockery,

stools, the clothes, a small cask of beer, and so on. I instructed

the Marcos to keep quiet about this sumptuousness, so as to give

me a chance to surprise the guests and show off a little. Concerning

the new clothes, the simple couple were like children; they were up

and down, all night, to see if it wasn't nearly daylight, so that

they could put them on, and they were into them at last as much

as an hour before dawn was due. Then their pleasure--not to say

delirium--was so fresh and novel and inspiring that the sight of it

paid me well for the interruptions which my sleep had suffered.

The king had slept just as usual--like the dead. The Marcos could

not thank him for their clothes, that being forbidden; but they

tried every way they could think of to make him see how grateful

they were. Which all went for nothing: he didn't notice any change.

It turned out to be one of those rich and rare fall days which is

just a June day toned down to a degree where it is heaven to be

out of doors. Toward noon the guests arrived, and we assembled

under a great tree and were soon as sociable as old acquaintances.

Even the king's reserve melted a little, though it was some little

trouble to him to adjust himself to the name of Jones along at

first. I had asked him to try to not forget that he was a farmer;

but I had also considered it prudent to ask him to let the thing

stand at that, and not elaborate it any. Because he was just the

kind of person you could depend on to spoil a little thing like

that if you didn't warn him, his tongue was so handy, and his

spirit so willing, and his information so uncertain.

Dowley was in fine feather, and I early got him started, and then

adroitly worked him around onto his own history for a text and

himself for a hero, and then it was good to sit there and hear him

hum. Self-made man, you know. They know how to talk. They do

deserve more credit than any other breed of men, yes, that is true;

and they are among the very first to find it out, too. He told how

he had begun life an orphan lad without money and without friends

able to help him; how he had lived as the slaves of the meanest

master lived; how his day's work was from sixteen to eighteen hours

long, and yielded him only enough black bread to keep him in a

half-fed condition; how his faithful endeavors finally attracted

the attention of a good blacksmith, who came near knocking him

dead with kindness by suddenly offering, when he was totally

unprepared, to take him as his bound apprentice for nine years

and give him board and clothes and teach him the trade--or "mystery"

as Dowley called it. That was his first great rise, his first

gorgeous stroke of fortune; and you saw that he couldn't yet speak

of it without a sort of eloquent wonder and delight that such a

gilded promotion should have fallen to the lot of a common human

being. He got no new clothing during his apprenticeship, but on

his graduation day his master tricked him out in spang-new tow-linens

and made him feel unspeakably rich and fine.

"I remember me of that day!" the wheelwright sang out, with

enthusiasm.

"And I likewise!" cried the mason. "I would not believe they

were thine own; in faith I could not."

"Nor other!" shouted Dowley, with sparkling eyes. "I was like

to lose my character, the neighbors wending I had mayhap been

stealing. It was a great day, a great day; one forgetteth not

days like that."

Yes, and his master was a fine man, and prosperous, and always

had a great feast of meat twice in the year, and with it white

bread, true wheaten bread; in fact, lived like a lord, so to speak.

And in time Dowley succeeded to the business and married the daughter.

"And now consider what is come to pass," said he, impressively.

"Two times in every month there is fresh meat upon my table."

He made a pause here, to let that fact sink home, then added

--"and eight times salt meat."

"It is even true," said the wheelwright, with bated breath.

"I know it of mine own knowledge," said the mason, in the same

reverent fashion.

"On my table appeareth white bread every Sunday in the year,"

added the master smith, with solemnity. "I leave it to your own

consciences, friends, if this is not also true?"

"By my head, yes," cried the mason.

"I can testify it--and I do," said the wheelwright.

"And as to furniture, ye shall say yourselves what mine equipment

is." He waved his hand in fine gesture of granting frank and

unhampered freedom of speech, and added: "Speak as ye are moved;

speak as ye would speak; an I were not here."

"Ye have five stools, and of the sweetest workmanship at that, albeit

your family is but three," said the wheelwright, with deep respect.

"And six wooden goblets, and six platters of wood and two of pewter

to eat and drink from withal," said the mason, impressively. "And

I say it as knowing God is my judge, and we tarry not here alway,

but must answer at the last day for the things said in the body,

be they false or be they sooth."

"Now ye know what manner of man I am, brother Jones," said the

smith, with a fine and friendly condescension, "and doubtless ye

would look to find me a man jealous of his due of respect and

but sparing of outgo to strangers till their rating and quality be

assured, but trouble yourself not, as concerning that; wit ye well

ye shall find me a man that regardeth not these matters but is

willing to receive any he as his fellow and equal that carrieth

a right heart in his body, be his worldly estate howsoever modest.

And in token of it, here is my hand; and I say with my own mouth

we are equals--equals"--and he smiled around on the company with

the satisfaction of a god who is doing the handsome and gracious

thing and is quite well aware of it.

The king took the hand with a poorly disguised reluctance, and

let go of it as willingly as a lady lets go of a fish; all of which

had a good effect, for it was mistaken for an embarrassment natural

to one who was being called upon by greatness.

The dame brought out the table now, and set it under the tree.

It caused a visible stir of surprise, it being brand new and a

sumptuous article of deal. But the surprise rose higher still

when the dame, with a body oozing easy indifference at every pore,

but eyes that gave it all away by absolutely flaming with vanity,

slowly unfolded an actual simon-pure tablecloth and spread it.

That was a notch above even the blacksmith's domestic grandeurs,

and it hit him hard; you could see it. But Marco was in Paradise;

you could see that, too. Then the dame brought two fine new

stools--whew! that was a sensation; it was visible in the eyes of

every guest. Then she brought two more--as calmly as she could.

Sensation again--with awed murmurs. Again she brought two

--walking on air, she was so proud. The guests were petrified, and

the mason muttered:

"There is that about earthly pomps which doth ever move to reverence."

As the dame turned away, Marco couldn't help slapping on the climax

while the thing was hot; so he said with what was meant for a

languid composure but was a poor imitation of it:

"These suffice; leave the rest."

So there were more yet! It was a fine effect. I couldn't have

played the hand better myself.

From this out, the madam piled up the surprises with a rush that

fired the general astonishment up to a hundred and fifty in the

shade, and at the same time paralyzed expression of it down to

gasped "Oh's" and "Ah's," and mute upliftings of hands and eyes.

She fetched crockery--new, and plenty of it; new wooden goblets

and other table furniture; and beer, fish, chicken, a goose, eggs,

roast beef, roast mutton, a ham, a small roast pig, and a wealth

of genuine white wheaten bread. Take it by and large, that spread

laid everything far and away in the shade that ever that crowd had

seen before. And while they sat there just simply stupefied with

wonder and awe, I sort of waved my hand as if by accident, and

the storekeeper's son emerged from space and said he had come

to collect.

"That's all right," I said, indifferently. "What is the amount?

give us the items."

Then he read off this bill, while those three amazed men listened,

and serene waves of satisfaction rolled over my soul and alternate

waves of terror and admiration surged over Marco's:

2 pounds salt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200

8 dozen pints beer, in the wood . . . . . 800

3 bushels wheat . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2,700

2 pounds fish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100

3 hens . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400

1 goose . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 400

3 dozen eggs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150

1 roast of beef . . . . . . . . . . . . . 450

1 roast of mutton . . . . . . . . . . . . 400

1 ham . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 800

1 sucking pig . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500

2 crockery dinner sets . . . . . . . . . 6,000

2 men's suits and underwear . . . . . . . 2,800

1 stuff and 1 linsey-woolsey gown

and underwear . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1,600

8 wooden goblets . . . . . . . . . . . . 800

Various table furniture . . . . . . . . .10,000

1 deal table . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3,000

8 stools . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4,000

2 miller guns, loaded . . . . . . . . . . 3,000

He ceased. There was a pale and awful silence. Not a limb stirred.

Not a nostril betrayed the passage of breath.

"Is that all?" I asked, in a voice of the most perfect calmness.

"All, fair sir, save that certain matters of light moment are

placed together under a head hight sundries. If it would like

you, I will sepa--"

"It is of no consequence," I said, accompanying the words with

a gesture of the most utter indifference; "give me the grand

total, please."

The clerk leaned against the tree to stay himself, and said:

"Thirty-nine thousand one hundred and fifty milrays!"

The wheelwright fell off his stool, the others grabbed the table

to save themselves, and there was a deep and general ejaculation of:

"God be with us in the day of disaster!"

The clerk hastened to say:

"My father chargeth me to say he cannot honorably require you

to pay it all at this time, and therefore only prayeth you--"

I paid no more heed than if it were the idle breeze, but, with an

air of indifference amounting almost to weariness, got out my money

and tossed four dollars on to the table. Ah, you should have seen

them stare!

The clerk was astonished and charmed. He asked me to retain

one of the dollars as security, until he could go to town and

--I interrupted:

"What, and fetch back nine cents? Nonsense! Take the whole.

Keep the change."

There was an amazed murmur to this effect:

"Verily this being is _made_ of money! He throweth it away even

as if it were dirt."

The blacksmith was a crushed man.

The clerk took his money and reeled away drunk with fortune. I said

to Marco and his wife:

"Good folk, here is a little trifle for you"--handing the miller-guns

as if it were a matter of no consequence, though each of them

contained fifteen cents in solid cash; and while the poor creatures

went to pieces with astonishment and gratitude, I turned to the

others and said as calmly as one would ask the time of day:

"Well, if we are all ready, I judge the dinner is. Come, fall to."

Ah, well, it was immense; yes, it was a daisy. I don't know that

I ever put a situation together better, or got happier spectacular

effects out of the materials available. The blacksmith--well, he

was simply mashed. Land! I wouldn't have felt what that man was

feeling, for anything in the world. Here he had been blowing and

bragging about his grand meat-feast twice a year, and his fresh

meat twice a month, and his salt meat twice a week, and his white

bread every Sunday the year round--all for a family of three; the

entire cost for the year not above 69.2.6 (sixty-nine cents, two

mills and six milrays), and all of a sudden here comes along a man

who slashes out nearly four dollars on a single blow-out; and not

only that, but acts as if it made him tired to handle such small

sums. Yes, Dowley was a good deal wilted, and shrunk-up and

collapsed; he had the aspect of a bladder-balloon that's been

stepped on by a cow.

CHAPTER XXXIII

SIXTH CENTURY POLITICAL ECONOMY

However, I made a dead set at him, and before the first third

of the dinner was reached, I had him happy again. It was easy

to do--in a country of ranks and castes. You see, in a country

where they have ranks and castes, a man isn't ever a man, he is

only part of a man, he can't ever get his full growth. You prove

your superiority over him in station, or rank, or fortune, and

that's the end of it--he knuckles down. You can't insult him

after that. No, I don't mean quite that; of course you _can_ insult

him, I only mean it's difficult; and so, unless you've got a lot

of useless time on your hands it doesn't pay to try. I had the

smith's reverence now, because I was apparently immensely prosperous

and rich; I could have had his adoration if I had had some little

gimcrack title of nobility. And not only his, but any commoner's

in the land, though he were the mightiest production of all the ages,

in intellect, worth, and character, and I bankrupt in all three.

This was to remain so, as long as England should exist in the

earth. With the spirit of prophecy upon me, I could look into

the future and see her erect statues and monuments to her unspeakable

Georges and other royal and noble clothes-horses, and leave unhonored

the creators of this world--after God--Gutenburg, Watt, Arkwright,

Whitney, Morse, Stephenson, Bell.

The king got his cargo aboard, and then, the talk not turning upon

battle, conquest, or iron-clad duel, he dulled down to drowsiness

and went off to take a nap. Mrs. Marco cleared the table, placed

the beer keg handy, and went away to eat her dinner of leavings

in humble privacy, and the rest of us soon drifted into matters

near and dear to the hearts of our sort--business and wages,

of course. At a first glance, things appeared to be exceeding

prosperous in this little tributary kingdom--whose lord was

King Bagdemagus--as compared with the state of things in my own

region. They had the "protection" system in full force here,

whereas we were working along down toward free-trade, by easy

stages, and were now about half way. Before long, Dowley and I

were doing all the talking, the others hungrily listening. Dowley

warmed to his work, snuffed an advantage in the air, and began

to put questions which he considered pretty awkward ones for me,

and they did have something of that look:

"In your country, brother, what is the wage of a master bailiff,

master hind, carter, shepherd, swineherd?"

"Twenty-five milrays a day; that is to say, a quarter of a cent."

The smith's face beamed with joy. He said:

"With us they are allowed the double of it! And what may a mechanic

get--carpenter, dauber, mason, painter, blacksmith, wheelwright,

and the like?"

"On the average, fifty milrays; half a cent a day."

"Ho-ho! With us they are allowed a hundred! With us any good

mechanic is allowed a cent a day! I count out the tailor, but

not the others--they are all allowed a cent a day, and in driving

times they get more--yes, up to a hundred and ten and even fifteen

milrays a day. I've paid a hundred and fifteen myself, within

the week. 'Rah for protection--to Sheol with free-trade!"

And his face shone upon the company like a sunburst. But I didn't

scare at all. I rigged up my pile-driver, and allowed myself

fifteen minutes to drive him into the earth--drive him _all_ in

--drive him in till not even the curve of his skull should show

above ground. Here is the way I started in on him. I asked:

"What do you pay a pound for salt?"

"A hundred milrays."

"We pay forty. What do you pay for beef and mutton--when you

buy it?" That was a neat hit; it made the color come.

"It varieth somewhat, but not much; one may say seventy-five milrays

the pound."

"_We_ pay thirty-three. What do you pay for eggs?"

"Fifty milrays the dozen."

"We pay twenty. What do you pay for beer?"

"It costeth us eight and one-half milrays the pint."

"We get it for four; twenty-five bottles for a cent.

What do you pay for wheat?"

"At the rate of nine hundred milrays the bushel."

"We pay four hundred. What do you pay for a man's tow-linen suit?"

"Thirteen cents."

"We pay six. What do you pay for a stuff gown for the wife of the

laborer or the mechanic?"

"We pay eight cents, four mills."

"Well, observe the difference: you pay eight cents and four mills,

we pay only four cents." I prepared now to sock it to him. I said:

"Look here, dear friend, _what's become of your high wages you

were bragging so about a few minutes ago?_"--and I looked around

on the company with placid satisfaction, for I had slipped up

on him gradually and tied him hand and foot, you see, without his

ever noticing that he was being tied at all. "What's become of

those noble high wages of yours?--I seem to have knocked the

stuffing all out of them, it appears to me."

But if you will believe me, he merely looked surprised, that

is all! he didn't grasp the situation at all, didn't know he had

walked into a trap, didn't discover that he was _in_ a trap. I could

have shot him, from sheer vexation. With cloudy eye and a struggling

intellect he fetched this out:

"Marry, I seem not to understand. It is _proved_ that our wages

be double thine; how then may it be that thou'st knocked therefrom

the stuffing?--an miscall not the wonderly word, this being the

first time under grace and providence of God it hath been granted

me to hear it."

Well, I was stunned; partly with this unlooked-for stupidity on

his part, and partly because his fellows so manifestly sided with

him and were of his mind--if you might call it mind. My position

was simple enough, plain enough; how could it ever be simplified

more? However, I must try:

"Why, look here, brother Dowley, don't you see? Your wages are

merely higher than ours in _name_, not in _fact_."

"Hear him! They are the _double_--ye have confessed it yourself."

"Yes-yes, I don't deny that at all. But that's got nothing to do

with it; the _amount_ of the wages in mere coins, with meaningless

names attached to them to know them by, has got nothing to do

with it. The thing is, how much can you _buy_ with your wages?

--that's the idea. While it is true that with you a good mechanic

is allowed about three dollars and a half a year, and with us only

about a dollar and seventy-five--"

"There--ye're confessing it again, ye're confessing it again!"

"Confound it, I've never denied it, I tell you! What I say is

this. With us _half_ a dollar buys more than a _dollar_ buys

with you--and THEREFORE it stands to reason and the commonest

kind of common-sense, that our wages are _higher_ than yours."

He looked dazed, and said, despairingly:

"Verily, I cannot make it out. Ye've just said ours are the

higher, and with the same breath ye take it back."

"Oh, great Scott, isn't it possible to get such a simple thing

through your head? Now look here--let me illustrate. We pay

four cents for a woman's stuff gown, you pay 8.4.0, which is

four mills more than _double_. What do you allow a laboring

woman who works on a farm?"

"Two mills a day."

"Very good; we allow but half as much; we pay her only a tenth

of a cent a day; and--"

"Again ye're conf--"

"Wait! Now, you see, the thing is very simple; this time you'll

understand it. For instance, it takes your woman 42 days to earn

her gown, at 2 mills a day--7 weeks' work; but ours earns hers

in forty days--two days _short_ of 7 weeks. Your woman has a gown,

and her whole seven weeks wages are gone; ours has a gown, and

two days' wages left, to buy something else with. There--_now_

you understand it!"

He looked--well, he merely looked dubious, it's the most I can say;

so did the others. I waited--to let the thing work. Dowley spoke

at last--and betrayed the fact that he actually hadn't gotten away

from his rooted and grounded superstitions yet. He said, with

a trifle of hesitancy:

"But--but--ye cannot fail to grant that two mills a day is better

than one."

Shucks! Well, of course, I hated to give it up. So I chanced

another flyer:

"Let us suppose a case. Suppose one of your journeymen goes out

and buys the following articles:

"1 pound of salt;

1 dozen eggs;

1 dozen pints of beer;

1 bushel of wheat;

1 tow-linen suit;

5 pounds of beef;

5 pounds of mutton.

"The lot will cost him 32 cents. It takes him 32 working days

to earn the money--5 weeks and 2 days. Let him come to us and

work 32 days at _half_ the wages; he can buy all those things for

a shade under 14 1/2 cents; they will cost him a shade under 29

days' work, and he will have about half a week's wages over. Carry

it through the year; he would save nearly a week's wages every

two months, _your_ man nothing; thus saving five or six weeks' wages

in a year, your man not a cent. _Now_ I reckon you understand that

'high wages' and 'low wages' are phrases that don't mean anything

in the world until you find out which of them will _buy_ the most!"

It was a crusher.

But, alas! it didn't crush. No, I had to give it up. What those

people valued was _high wages_; it didn't seem to be a matter of

any consequence to them whether the high wages would buy anything

or not. They stood for "protection," and swore by it, which was

reasonable enough, because interested parties had gulled them into

the notion that it was protection which had created their high

wages. I proved to them that in a quarter of a century their wages

had advanced but 30 per cent., while the cost of living had gone

up 100; and that with us, in a shorter time, wages had advanced

40 per cent. while the cost of living had gone steadily down. But

it didn't do any good. Nothing could unseat their strange beliefs.

Well, I was smarting under a sense of defeat. Undeserved defeat,

but what of that? That didn't soften the smart any. And to think

of the circumstances! the first statesman of the age, the capablest

man, the best-informed man in the entire world, the loftiest

uncrowned head that had moved through the clouds of any political

firmament for centuries, sitting here apparently defeated in

argument by an ignorant country blacksmith! And I could see that

those others were sorry for me--which made me blush till I could

smell my whiskers scorching. Put yourself in my place; feel as mean

as I did, as ashamed as I felt--wouldn't _you_ have struck below the

belt to get even? Yes, you would; it is simply human nature.

Well, that is what I did. I am not trying to justify it; I'm only

saying that I was mad, and _anybody_ would have done it.

Well, when I make up my mind to hit a man, I don't plan out

a love-tap; no, that isn't my way; as long as I'm going to hit him

at all, I'm going to hit him a lifter. And I don't jump at him

all of a sudden, and risk making a blundering half-way business

of it; no, I get away off yonder to one side, and work up on him

gradually, so that he never suspects that I'm going to hit him

at all; and by and by, all in a flash, he's flat on his back, and

he can't tell for the life of him how it all happened. That is

the way I went for brother Dowley. I started to talking lazy and

comfortable, as if I was just talking to pass the time; and the

oldest man in the world couldn't have taken the bearings of my

starting place and guessed where I was going to fetch up:

"Boys, there's a good many curious things about law, and custom,

and usage, and all that sort of thing, when you come to look at it;

yes, and about the drift and progress of human opinion and movement,

too. There are written laws--they perish; but there are also

unwritten laws--_they_ are eternal. Take the unwritten law of wages:

it says they've got to advance, little by little, straight through

the centuries. And notice how it works. We know what wages are

now, here and there and yonder; we strike an average, and say that's

the wages of to-day. We know what the wages were a hundred years

ago, and what they were two hundred years ago; that's as far back

as we can get, but it suffices to give us the law of progress,

the measure and rate of the periodical augmentation; and so, without

a document to help us, we can come pretty close to determining

what the wages were three and four and five hundred years ago.

Good, so far. Do we stop there? No. We stop looking backward;

we face around and apply the law to the future. My friends, I can

tell you what people's wages are going to be at any date in the

future you want to know, for hundreds and hundreds of years."

"What, goodman, what!"

"Yes. In seven hundred years wages will have risen to six times

what they are now, here in your region, and farm hands will be

allowed 3 cents a day, and mechanics 6."

"I would't I might die now and live then!" interrupted Smug, the

wheelwright, with a fine avaricious glow in his eye.

"And that isn't all; they'll get their board besides--such as it is:

it won't bloat them. Two hundred and fifty years later--pay attention

now--a mechanic's wages will be--mind you, this is law, not

guesswork; a mechanic's wages will then be _twenty_ cents a day!"

There was a general gasp of awed astonishment, Dickon the mason

murmured, with raised eyes and hands:

"More than three weeks' pay for one day's work!"

"Riches!--of a truth, yes, riches!" muttered Marco, his breath

coming quick and short, with excitement.

"Wages will keep on rising, little by little, little by little,

as steadily as a tree grows, and at the end of three hundred and

forty years more there'll be at least _one_ country where the

mechanic's average wage will be _two hundred_ cents a day!"

It knocked them absolutely dumb! Not a man of them could get

his breath for upwards of two minutes. Then the coal-burner

said prayerfully:

"Might I but live to see it!"

"It is the income of an earl!" said Smug.

"An earl, say ye?" said Dowley; "ye could say more than that and

speak no lie; there's no earl in the realm of Bagdemagus that hath

an income like to that. Income of an earl--mf! it's the income

of an angel!"

"Now, then, that is what is going to happen as regards wages.

In that remote day, that man will earn, with _one_ week's work,

that bill of goods which it takes you upwards of _fifty_ weeks to

earn now. Some other pretty surprising things are going to happen,

too. Brother Dowley, who is it that determines, every spring,

what the particular wage of each kind of mechanic, laborer, and

servant shall be for that year?"

"Sometimes the courts, sometimes the town council; but most of all,

the magistrate. Ye may say, in general terms, it is the magistrate

that fixes the wages."

"Doesn't ask any of those poor devils to _help_ him fix their wages

for them, does he?"

"Hm! That _were_ an idea! The master that's to pay him the money

is the one that's rightly concerned in that matter, ye will notice."

"Yes--but I thought the other man might have some little trifle

at stake in it, too; and even his wife and children, poor creatures.

The masters are these: nobles, rich men, the prosperous generally.

These few, who do no work, determine what pay the vast hive shall

have who _do_ work. You see? They're a 'combine'--a trade union,

to coin a new phrase--who band themselves together to force their

lowly brother to take what they choose to give. Thirteen hundred

years hence--so says the unwritten law--the 'combine' will be the

other way, and then how these fine people's posterity will fume

and fret and grit their teeth over the insolent tyranny of trade

unions! Yes, indeed! the magistrate will tranquilly arrange the

wages from now clear away down into the nineteenth century; and

then all of a sudden the wage-earner will consider that a couple

of thousand years or so is enough of this one-sided sort of thing;

and he will rise up and take a hand in fixing his wages himself.

Ah, he will have a long and bitter account of wrong and humiliation

to settle."

"Do ye believe--"

"That he actually will help to fix his own wages? Yes, indeed.

And he will be strong and able, then."

"Brave times, brave times, of a truth!" sneered the prosperous smith.

"Oh,--and there's another detail. In that day, a master may hire

a man for only just one day, or one week, or one month at a time,

if he wants to."

"What?"

"It's true. Moreover, a magistrate won't be able to force a man

to work for a master a whole year on a stretch whether the man

wants to or not."

"Will there be _no_ law or sense in that day?"

"Both of them, Dowley. In that day a man will be his own property,

not the property of magistrate and master. And he can leave town

whenever he wants to, if the wages don't suit him!--and they can't

put him in the pillory for it."

"Perdition catch such an age!" shouted Dowley, in strong indignation.

"An age of dogs, an age barren of reverence for superiors and

respect for authority! The pillory--"

"Oh, wait, brother; say no good word for that institution. I think

the pillory ought to be abolished."

"A most strange idea. Why?"

"Well, I'll tell you why. Is a man ever put in the pillory for

a capital crime?"

"No."

"Is it right to condemn a man to a slight punishment for a small

offense and then kill him?"

There was no answer. I had scored my first point! For the first

time, the smith wasn't up and ready. The company noticed it.

Good effect.

"You don't answer, brother. You were about to glorify the pillory

a while ago, and shed some pity on a future age that isn't going

to use it. I think the pillory ought to be abolished. What

usually happens when a poor fellow is put in the pillory for some

little offense that didn't amount to anything in the world? The

mob try to have some fun with him, don't they?"

"Yes."

"They begin by clodding him; and they laugh themselves to pieces

to see him try to dodge one clod and get hit with another?"

"Yes."

"Then they throw dead cats at him, don't they?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, suppose he has a few personal enemies in that mob

and here and there a man or a woman with a secret grudge against

him--and suppose especially that he is unpopular in the community,

for his pride, or his prosperity, or one thing or another--stones

and bricks take the place of clods and cats presently, don't they?"

"There is no doubt of it."

"As a rule he is crippled for life, isn't he?--jaws broken, teeth

smashed out?--or legs mutilated, gangrened, presently cut off?

--or an eye knocked out, maybe both eyes?"

"It is true, God knoweth it."

"And if he is unpopular he can depend on _dying_, right there in

the stocks, can't he?"

"He surely can! One may not deny it."

"I take it none of _you_ are unpopular--by reason of pride or

insolence, or conspicuous prosperity, or any of those things that

excite envy and malice among the base scum of a village? _You_

wouldn't think it much of a risk to take a chance in the stocks?"

Dowley winced, visibly. I judged he was hit. But he didn't betray

it by any spoken word. As for the others, they spoke out plainly,

and with strong feeling. They said they had seen enough of the

stocks to know what a man's chance in them was, and they would

never consent to enter them if they could compromise on a quick

death by hanging.

"Well, to change the subject--for I think I've established my

point that the stocks ought to be abolished. I think some of our

laws are pretty unfair. For instance, if I do a thing which ought

to deliver me to the stocks, and you know I did it and yet keep

still and don't report me, _you_ will get the stocks if anybody

informs on you."

"Ah, but that would serve you but right," said Dowley, "for you

_must_ inform. So saith the law."

The others coincided.

"Well, all right, let it go, since you vote me down. But there's

one thing which certainly isn't fair. The magistrate fixes a

mechanic's wage at one cent a day, for instance. The law says that

if any master shall venture, even under utmost press of business,

to pay anything _over_ that cent a day, even for a single day, he

shall be both fined and pilloried for it; and whoever knows he did

it and doesn't inform, they also shall be fined and pilloried. Now

it seems to me unfair, Dowley, and a deadly peril to all of us,

that because you thoughtlessly confessed, a while ago, that within

a week you have paid a cent and fifteen mil--"

Oh, I tell _you_ it was a smasher! You ought to have seen them to

go to pieces, the whole gang. I had just slipped up on poor

smiling and complacent Dowley so nice and easy and softly, that

he never suspected anything was going to happen till the blow

came crashing down and knocked him all to rags.

A fine effect. In fact, as fine as any I ever produced, with so

little time to work it up in.

But I saw in a moment that I had overdone the thing a little.

I was expecting to scare them, but I wasn't expecting to scare

them to death. They were mighty near it, though. You see they

had been a whole lifetime learning to appreciate the pillory; and

to have that thing staring them in the face, and every one of them

distinctly at the mercy of me, a stranger, if I chose to go and

report--well, it was awful, and they couldn't seem to recover

from the shock, they couldn't seem to pull themselves together.

Pale, shaky, dumb, pitiful? Why, they weren't any better than

so many dead men. It was very uncomfortable. Of course, I thought

they would appeal to me to keep mum, and then we would shake hands,

and take a drink all round, and laugh it off, and there an end.

But no; you see I was an unknown person, among a cruelly oppressed

and suspicious people, a people always accustomed to having advantage

taken of their helplessness, and never expecting just or kind

treatment from any but their own families and very closest intimates.

Appeal to _me_ to be gentle, to be fair, to be generous? Of course,

they wanted to, but they couldn't dare.

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE YANKEE AND THE KING SOLD AS SLAVES

Well, what had I better do? Nothing in a hurry, sure. I must

get up a diversion; anything to employ me while I could think,

and while these poor fellows could have a chance to come to life

again. There sat Marco, petrified in the act of trying to get

the hang of his miller-gun--turned to stone, just in the attitude

he was in when my pile-driver fell, the toy still gripped in his

unconscious fingers. So I took it from him and proposed to explain

its mystery. Mystery! a simple little thing like that; and yet it

was mysterious enough, for that race and that age.

I never saw such an awkward people, with machinery; you see, they

were totally unused to it. The miller-gun was a little double-barreled

tube of toughened glass, with a neat little trick of a spring

to it, which upon pressure would let a shot escape. But the shot

wouldn't hurt anybody, it would only drop into your hand. In the

gun were two sizes--wee mustard-seed shot, and another sort that

were several times larger. They were money. The mustard-seed

shot represented milrays, the larger ones mills. So the gun was

a purse; and very handy, too; you could pay out money in the dark

with it, with accuracy; and you could carry it in your mouth; or

in your vest pocket, if you had one. I made them of several sizes

--one size so large that it would carry the equivalent of a dollar.

Using shot for money was a good thing for the government; the metal

cost nothing, and the money couldn't be counterfeited, for I was

the only person in the kingdom who knew how to manage a shot tower.

"Paying the shot" soon came to be a common phrase. Yes, and I knew

it would still be passing men's lips, away down in the nineteenth

century, yet none would suspect how and when it originated.

The king joined us, about this time, mightily refreshed by his nap,

and feeling good. Anything could make me nervous now, I was so

uneasy--for our lives were in danger; and so it worried me to

detect a complacent something in the king's eye which seemed to

indicate that he had been loading himself up for a performance

of some kind or other; confound it, why must he go and choose

such a time as this?

I was right. He began, straight off, in the most innocently

artful, and transparent, and lubberly way, to lead up to the

subject of agriculture. The cold sweat broke out all over me.

I wanted to whisper in his ear, "Man, we are in awful danger!

every moment is worth a principality till we get back these men's

confidence; _don't_ waste any of this golden time." But of course

I couldn't do it. Whisper to him? It would look as if we were

conspiring. So I had to sit there and look calm and pleasant while

the king stood over that dynamite mine and mooned along about his

damned onions and things. At first the tumult of my own thoughts,

summoned by the danger-signal and swarming to the rescue from

every quarter of my skull, kept up such a hurrah and confusion

and fifing and drumming that I couldn't take in a word; but

presently when my mob of gathering plans began to crystallize

and fall into position and form line of battle, a sort of order and

quiet ensued and I caught the boom of the king's batteries, as if

out of remote distance:

"--were not the best way, methinks, albeit it is not to be denied

that authorities differ as concerning this point, some contending

that the onion is but an unwholesome berry when stricken early

from the tree--"

The audience showed signs of life, and sought each other's eyes

in a surprised and troubled way.

"--whileas others do yet maintain, with much show of reason, that

this is not of necessity the case, instancing that plums and other

like cereals do be always dug in the unripe state--"

The audience exhibited distinct distress; yes, and also fear.

"--yet are they clearly wholesome, the more especially when one

doth assuage the asperities of their nature by admixture of the

tranquilizing juice of the wayward cabbage--"

The wild light of terror began to glow in these men's eyes, and

one of them muttered, "These be errors, every one--God hath surely

smitten the mind of this farmer." I was in miserable apprehension;

I sat upon thorns.

"--and further instancing the known truth that in the case of

animals, the young, which may be called the green fruit of the

creature, is the better, all confessing that when a goat is ripe,

his fur doth heat and sore engame his flesh, the which defect,

taken in connection with his several rancid habits, and fulsome

appetites, and godless attitudes of mind, and bilious quality

of morals--"

They rose and went for him! With a fierce shout, "The one would

betray us, the other is mad! Kill them! Kill them!" they flung

themselves upon us. What joy flamed up in the king's eye! He

might be lame in agriculture, but this kind of thing was just in

his line. He had been fasting long, he was hungry for a fight.

He hit the blacksmith a crack under the jaw that lifted him clear

off his feet and stretched him flat on his back. "St. George for

Britain!" and he downed the wheelwright. The mason was big, but

I laid him out like nothing. The three gathered themselves up and

came again; went down again; came again; and kept on repeating

this, with native British pluck, until they were battered to jelly,

reeling with exhaustion, and so blind that they couldn't tell us

from each other; and yet they kept right on, hammering away with

what might was left in them. Hammering each other--for we stepped

aside and looked on while they rolled, and struggled, and gouged,

and pounded, and bit, with the strict and wordless attention to

business of so many bulldogs. We looked on without apprehension,

for they were fast getting past ability to go for help against us,

and the arena was far enough from the public road to be safe

from intrusion.

Well, while they were gradually playing out, it suddenly occurred

to me to wonder what had become of Marco. I looked around; he

was nowhere to be seen. Oh, but this was ominous! I pulled the

king's sleeve, and we glided away and rushed for the hut. No Marco

there, no Phyllis there! They had gone to the road for help, sure.

I told the king to give his heels wings, and I would explain later.

We made good time across the open ground, and as we darted into

the shelter of the wood I glanced back and saw a mob of excited

peasants swarm into view, with Marco and his wife at their head.

They were making a world of noise, but that couldn't hurt anybody;

the wood was dense, and as soon as we were well into its depths

we would take to a tree and let them whistle. Ah, but then came

another sound--dogs! Yes, that was quite another matter. It

magnified our contract--we must find running water.

We tore along at a good gait, and soon left the sounds far behind

and modified to a murmur. We struck a stream and darted into it.

We waded swiftly down it, in the dim forest light, for as much

as three hundred yards, and then came across an oak with a great

bough sticking out over the water. We climbed up on this bough,

and began to work our way along it to the body of the tree; now

we began to hear those sounds more plainly; so the mob had struck

our trail. For a while the sounds approached pretty fast. And

then for another while they didn't. No doubt the dogs had found

the place where we had entered the stream, and were now waltzing

up and down the shores trying to pick up the trail again.

When we were snugly lodged in the tree and curtained with foliage,

the king was satisfied, but I was doubtful. I believed we could

crawl along a branch and get into the next tree, and I judged it

worth while to try. We tried it, and made a success of it, though

the king slipped, at the junction, and came near failing to connect.

We got comfortable lodgment and satisfactory concealment among

the foliage, and then we had nothing to do but listen to the hunt.

Presently we heard it coming--and coming on the jump, too; yes,

and down both sides of the stream. Louder--louder--next minute

it swelled swiftly up into a roar of shoutings, barkings, tramplings,

and swept by like a cyclone.

"I was afraid that the overhanging branch would suggest something

to them," said I, "but I don't mind the disappointment. Come,

my liege, it were well that we make good use of our time. We've

flanked them. Dark is coming on, presently. If we can cross the

stream and get a good start, and borrow a couple of horses from

somebody's pasture to use for a few hours, we shall be safe enough."

We started down, and got nearly to the lowest limb, when we seemed

to hear the hunt returning. We stopped to listen.

"Yes," said I, "they're baffled, they've given it up, they're on

their way home. We will climb back to our roost again, and let

them go by."

So we climbed back. The king listened a moment and said:

"They still search--I wit the sign. We did best to abide."

He was right. He knew more about hunting than I did. The noise

approached steadily, but not with a rush. The king said:

"They reason that we were advantaged by no parlous start of them,

and being on foot are as yet no mighty way from where we took

the water."

"Yes, sire, that is about it, I am afraid, though I was hoping

better things."

The noise drew nearer and nearer, and soon the van was drifting

under us, on both sides of the water. A voice called a halt from

the other bank, and said:

"An they were so minded, they could get to yon tree by this branch

that overhangs, and yet not touch ground. Ye will do well to send

a man up it."

"Marry, that we will do!"

I was obliged to admire my cuteness in foreseeing this very thing

and swapping trees to beat it. But, don't you know, there are

some things that can beat smartness and foresight? Awkwardness

and stupidity can. The best swordsman in the world doesn't need

to fear the second best swordsman in the world; no, the person

for him to be afraid of is some ignorant antagonist who has never

had a sword in his hand before; he doesn't do the thing he ought

to do, and so the expert isn't prepared for him; he does the thing

he ought not to do; and often it catches the expert out and ends

him on the spot. Well, how could I, with all my gifts, make any

valuable preparation against a near-sighted, cross-eyed, pudding-headed

clown who would aim himself at the wrong tree and hit the right

one? And that is what he did. He went for the wrong tree, which

was, of course, the right one by mistake, and up he started.

Matters were serious now. We remained still, and awaited developments.

The peasant toiled his difficult way up. The king raised himself

up and stood; he made a leg ready, and when the comer's head

arrived in reach of it there was a dull thud, and down went the man

floundering to the ground. There was a wild outbreak of anger

below, and the mob swarmed in from all around, and there we were

treed, and prisoners. Another man started up; the bridging bough

was detected, and a volunteer started up the tree that furnished

the bridge. The king ordered me to play Horatius and keep the

bridge. For a while the enemy came thick and fast; but no matter,

the head man of each procession always got a buffet that dislodged

him as soon as he came in reach. The king's spirits rose, his joy

was limitless. He said that if nothing occurred to mar the prospect

we should have a beautiful night, for on this line of tactics we

could hold the tree against the whole country-side.

However, the mob soon came to that conclusion themselves; wherefore

they called off the assault and began to debate other plans.

They had no weapons, but there were plenty of stones, and stones

might answer. We had no objections. A stone might possibly

penetrate to us once in a while, but it wasn't very likely; we were

well protected by boughs and foliage, and were not visible from

any good aiming point. If they would but waste half an hour in

stone-throwing, the dark would come to our help. We were feeling

very well satisfied. We could smile; almost laugh.

But we didn't; which was just as well, for we should have been

interrupted. Before the stones had been raging through the leaves

and bouncing from the boughs fifteen minutes, we began to notice

a smell. A couple of sniffs of it was enough of an explanation

--it was smoke! Our game was up at last. We recognized that. When

smoke invites you, you have to come. They raised their pile of

dry brush and damp weeds higher and higher, and when they saw

the thick cloud begin to roll up and smother the tree, they broke

out in a storm of joy-clamors. I got enough breath to say:

"Proceed, my liege; after you is manners."

The king gasped:

"Follow me down, and then back thyself against one side of the

trunk, and leave me the other. Then will we fight. Let each pile

his dead according to his own fashion and taste."

Then he descended, barking and coughing, and I followed. I struck

the ground an instant after him; we sprang to our appointed places,

and began to give and take with all our might. The powwow and

racket were prodigious; it was a tempest of riot and confusion and

thick-falling blows. Suddenly some horsemen tore into the midst

of the crowd, and a voice shouted:

"Hold--or ye are dead men!"

How good it sounded! The owner of the voice bore all the marks of

a gentleman: picturesque and costly raiment, the aspect of command,

a hard countenance, with complexion and features marred by dissipation.

The mob fell humbly back, like so many spaniels. The gentleman

inspected us critically, then said sharply to the peasants:

"What are ye doing to these people?"

"They be madmen, worshipful sir, that have come wandering we know

not whence, and--"

"Ye know not whence? Do ye pretend ye know them not?"

"Most honored sir, we speak but the truth. They are strangers

and unknown to any in this region; and they be the most violent

and bloodthirsty madmen that ever--"

"Peace! Ye know not what ye say. They are not mad. Who are ye?

And whence are ye? Explain."

"We are but peaceful strangers, sir," I said, "and traveling upon

our own concerns. We are from a far country, and unacquainted

here. We have purposed no harm; and yet but for your brave

interference and protection these people would have killed us.

As you have divined, sir, we are not mad; neither are we violent

or bloodthirsty."

The gentleman turned to his retinue and said calmly: "Lash me

these animals to their kennels!"

The mob vanished in an instant; and after them plunged the horsemen,

laying about them with their whips and pitilessly riding down such

as were witless enough to keep the road instead of taking to the

bush. The shrieks and supplications presently died away in the

distance, and soon the horsemen began to straggle back. Meantime

the gentleman had been questioning us more closely, but had dug

no particulars out of us. We were lavish of recognition of the

service he was doing us, but we revealed nothing more than that we

were friendless strangers from a far country. When the escort were

all returned, the gentleman said to one of his servants:

"Bring the led-horses and mount these people."

"Yes, my lord."

We were placed toward the rear, among the servants. We traveled

pretty fast, and finally drew rein some time after dark at a

roadside inn some ten or twelve miles from the scene of our

troubles. My lord went immediately to his room, after ordering

his supper, and we saw no more of him. At dawn in the morning

we breakfasted and made ready to start.

My lord's chief attendant sauntered forward at that moment with

indolent grace, and said:

"Ye have said ye should continue upon this road, which is our

direction likewise; wherefore my lord, the earl Grip, hath given

commandment that ye retain the horses and ride, and that certain

of us ride with ye a twenty mile to a fair town that hight Cambenet,

whenso ye shall be out of peril."

We could do nothing less than express our thanks and accept the

offer. We jogged along, six in the party, at a moderate and

comfortable gait, and in conversation learned that my lord Grip

was a very great personage in his own region, which lay a day's

journey beyond Cambenet. We loitered to such a degree that it was

near the middle of the forenoon when we entered the market square

of the town. We dismounted, and left our thanks once more for

my lord, and then approached a crowd assembled in the center of

the square, to see what might be the object of interest. It was the

remnant of that old peregrinating band of slaves! So they had

been dragging their chains about, all this weary time. That poor

husband was gone, and also many others; and some few purchases

had been added to the gang. The king was not interested, and

wanted to move along, but I was absorbed, and full of pity. I could

not take my eyes away from these worn and wasted wrecks of humanity.

There they sat, grounded upon the ground, silent, uncomplaining,

with bowed heads, a pathetic sight. And by hideous contrast, a

redundant orator was making a speech to another gathering not thirty

steps away, in fulsome laudation of "our glorious British liberties!"

I was boiling. I had forgotten I was a plebeian, I was remembering

I was a man. Cost what it might, I would mount that rostrum and--

Click! the king and I were handcuffed together! Our companions,

those servants, had done it; my lord Grip stood looking on. The

king burst out in a fury, and said:

"What meaneth this ill-mannered jest?"

My lord merely said to his head miscreant, coolly:

"Put up the slaves and sell them!"

_Slaves!_ The word had a new sound--and how unspeakably awful! The

king lifted his manacles and brought them down with a deadly force;

but my lord was out of the way when they arrived. A dozen of

the rascal's servants sprang forward, and in a moment we were

helpless, with our hands bound behind us. We so loudly and so

earnestly proclaimed ourselves freemen, that we got the interested

attention of that liberty-mouthing orator and his patriotic crowd,

and they gathered about us and assumed a very determined attitude.

The orator said:

"If, indeed, ye are freemen, ye have nought to fear--the God-given

liberties of Britain are about ye for your shield and shelter!

(Applause.) Ye shall soon see. Bring forth your proofs."

"What proofs?"

"Proof that ye are freemen."

Ah--I remembered! I came to myself; I said nothing. But the

king stormed out:

"Thou'rt insane, man. It were better, and more in reason, that

this thief and scoundrel here prove that we are _not_ freemen."

You see, he knew his own laws just as other people so often know

the laws; by words, not by effects. They take a _meaning_, and get

to be very vivid, when you come to apply them to yourself.

All hands shook their heads and looked disappointed; some turned

away, no longer interested. The orator said--and this time in the

tones of business, not of sentiment:

"An ye do not know your country's laws, it were time ye learned

them. Ye are strangers to us; ye will not deny that. Ye may be

freemen, we do not deny that; but also ye may be slaves. The law

is clear: it doth not require the claimant to prove ye are slaves,

it requireth you to prove ye are not."

I said:

"Dear sir, give us only time to send to Astolat; or give us only

time to send to the Valley of Holiness--"

"Peace, good man, these are extraordinary requests, and you may

not hope to have them granted. It would cost much time, and would

unwarrantably inconvenience your master--"

"_Master_, idiot!" stormed the king. "I have no master, I myself

am the m--"

"Silence, for God's sake!"

I got the words out in time to stop the king. We were in trouble

enough already; it could not help us any to give these people

the notion that we were lunatics.

There is no use in stringing out the details. The earl put us up

and sold us at auction. This same infernal law had existed in

our own South in my own time, more than thirteen hundred years

later, and under it hundreds of freemen who could not prove that

they were freemen had been sold into lifelong slavery without

the circumstance making any particular impression upon me; but the

minute law and the auction block came into my personal experience,

a thing which had been merely improper before became suddenly

hellish. Well, that's the way we are made.

Yes, we were sold at auction, like swine. In a big town and an

active market we should have brought a good price; but this place

was utterly stagnant and so we sold at a figure which makes me

ashamed, every time I think of it. The King of England brought

seven dollars, and his prime minister nine; whereas the king was

easily worth twelve dollars and I as easily worth fifteen. But

that is the way things always go; if you force a sale on a dull

market, I don't care what the property is, you are going to make

a poor business of it, and you can make up your mind to it. If

the earl had had wit enough to--

However, there is no occasion for my working my sympathies up

on his account. Let him go, for the present; I took his number,

so to speak.

The slave-dealer bought us both, and hitched us onto that long

chain of his, and we constituted the rear of his procession. We

took up our line of march and passed out of Cambenet at noon;

and it seemed to me unaccountably strange and odd that the King

of England and his chief minister, marching manacled and fettered

and yoked, in a slave convoy, could move by all manner of idle men

and women, and under windows where sat the sweet and the lovely,

and yet never attract a curious eye, never provoke a single remark.

Dear, dear, it only shows that there is nothing diviner about a king

than there is about a tramp, after all. He is just a cheap and

hollow artificiality when you don't know he is a king. But reveal

his quality, and dear me it takes your very breath away to look

at him. I reckon we are all fools. Born so, no doubt.

CHAPTER XXXV

A PITIFUL INCIDENT