THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER
[Illustration: ESELDORF WAS A PARADISE FOR US BOYS]
THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER
A ROMANCE
BY
MARK TWAIN
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
N. C. WYETH
[Illustration]
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER
Copyright, 1916, by Harper & Brothers
Printed in the United States of America
Published October, 1916
ILLUSTRATIONS
ESELDORF WAS A PARADISE FOR US BOYS _Frontispiece_
THE LIGHTNING BLAZED OUT FLASH UPON FLASH AND SET
THE CASTLE ON FIRE _Facing p._ 20
ON THE FOURTH DAY COMES THE ASTROLOGER FROM HIS
CRUMBLING OLD TOWER “ 38
MARGET WAS CHEERFUL BY HELP OF WILHELM MEIDLING “ 60
THE ASTROLOGER EMPTIED THE WHOLE OF THE BOWL INTO
THE BOTTLE “ 74
THERE WAS A SOUND OF TRAMPING OUTSIDE AND THE CROWD
CAME SOLEMNLY IN “ 108
“LIFE ITSELF IS ONLY A VISION, A DREAM” “ 148
THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER
CHAPTER I
It was in 1590--winter. Austria was far away from the world, and
asleep; it was still the Middle Ages in Austria, and promised to remain
so forever. Some even set it away back centuries upon centuries and
said that by the mental and spiritual clock it was still the Age of
Belief in Austria. But they meant it as a compliment, not a slur, and
it was so taken, and we were all proud of it. I remember it well,
although I was only a boy; and I remember, too, the pleasure it gave me.
Yes, Austria was far from the world, and asleep, and our village was in
the middle of that sleep, being in the middle of Austria. It drowsed
in peace in the deep privacy of a hilly and woodsy solitude where
news from the world hardly ever came to disturb its dreams, and was
infinitely content. At its front flowed the tranquil river, its surface
painted with cloud-forms and the reflections of drifting arks and
stone-boats; behind it rose the woody steeps to the base of the lofty
precipice; from the top of the precipice frowned a vast castle, its
long stretch of towers and bastions mailed in vines; beyond the river,
a league to the left, was a tumbled expanse of forest-clothed hills
cloven by winding gorges where the sun never penetrated; and to the
right a precipice overlooked the river, and between it and the hills
just spoken of lay a far-reaching plain dotted with little homesteads
nested among orchards and shade trees.
The whole region for leagues around was the hereditary property of a
prince, whose servants kept the castle always in perfect condition for
occupancy, but neither he nor his family came there oftener than once
in five years. When they came it was as if the lord of the world had
arrived, and had brought all the glories of its kingdoms along; and
when they went they left a calm behind which was like the deep sleep
which follows an orgy.
Eseldorf was a paradise for us boys. We were not overmuch pestered with
schooling. Mainly we were trained to be good Christians; to revere
the Virgin, the Church, and the saints above everything. Beyond these
matters we were not required to know much; and, in fact, not allowed
to. Knowledge was not good for the common people, and could make them
discontented with the lot which God had appointed for them, and God
would not endure discontentment with His plans. We had two priests. One
of them, Father Adolf, was a very zealous and strenuous priest, much
considered.
There may have been better priests, in some ways, than Father Adolf,
but there was never one in our commune who was held in more solemn
and awful respect. This was because he had absolutely no fear of the
Devil. He was the only Christian I have ever known of whom that could
be truly said. People stood in deep dread of him on that account; for
they thought that there must be something supernatural about him, else
he could not be so bold and so confident. All men speak in bitter
disapproval of the Devil, but they do it reverently, not flippantly;
but Father Adolf’s way was very different; he called him by every name
he could lay his tongue to, and it made every one shudder that heard
him; and often he would even speak of him scornfully and scoffingly;
then the people crossed themselves and went quickly out of his
presence, fearing that something fearful might happen.
Father Adolf had actually met Satan face to face more than once, and
defied him. This was known to be so. Father Adolf said it himself. He
never made any secret of it, but spoke it right out. And that he was
speaking true there was proof in at least one instance, for on that
occasion he quarreled with the enemy, and intrepidly threw his bottle
at him; and there, upon the wall of his study, was the ruddy splotch
where it struck and broke.
But it was Father Peter, the other priest, that we all loved best and
were sorriest for. Some people charged him with talking around in
conversation that God was all goodness and would find a way to save all
his poor human children. It was a horrible thing to say, but there was
never any absolute proof that Father Peter said it; and it was out of
character for him to say it, too, for he was always good and gentle and
truthful. He wasn’t charged with saying it in the pulpit, where all the
congregation could hear and testify, but only outside, in talk; and it
is easy for enemies to manufacture _that_. Father Peter had an enemy
and a very powerful one, the astrologer who lived in a tumbled old
tower up the valley, and put in his nights studying the stars. Every
one knew he could foretell wars and famines, though that was not so
hard, for there was always a war and generally a famine somewhere. But
he could also read any man’s life through the stars in a big book he
had, and find lost property, and every one in the village except Father
Peter stood in awe of him. Even Father Adolf, who had defied the Devil,
had a wholesome respect for the astrologer when he came through our
village wearing his tall, pointed hat and his long, flowing robe with
stars on it, carrying his big book, and a staff which was known to have
magic power. The bishop himself sometimes listened to the astrologer,
it was said, for, besides studying the stars and prophesying, the
astrologer made a great show of piety, which would impress the bishop,
of course.
But Father Peter took no stock in the astrologer. He denounced him
openly as a charlatan--a fraud with no valuable knowledge of any kind,
or powers beyond those of an ordinary and rather inferior human being,
which naturally made the astrologer hate Father Peter and wish to
ruin him. It was the astrologer, as we all believed, who originated
the story about Father Peter’s shocking remark and carried it to the
bishop. It was said that Father Peter had made the remark to his niece,
Marget, though Marget denied it and implored the bishop to believe
her and spare her old uncle from poverty and disgrace. But the bishop
wouldn’t listen. He suspended Father Peter indefinitely, though he
wouldn’t go so far as to excommunicate him on the evidence of only one
witness; and now Father Peter had been out a couple of years, and our
other priest, Father Adolf, had his flock.
Those had been hard years for the old priest and Marget. They had been
favorites, but of course that changed when they came under the shadow
of the bishop’s frown. Many of their friends fell away entirely, and
the rest became cool and distant. Marget was a lovely girl of eighteen
when the trouble came, and she had the best head in the village, and
the most in it. She taught the harp, and earned all her clothes and
pocket money by her own industry. But her scholars fell off one by one
now; she was forgotten when there were dances and parties among the
youth of the village; the young fellows stopped coming to the house,
all except Wilhelm Meidling--and he could have been spared; she and
her uncle were sad and forlorn in their neglect and disgrace, and the
sunshine was gone out of their lives. Matters went worse and worse, all
through the two years. Clothes were wearing out, bread was harder and
harder to get. And now, at last, the very end was come. Solomon Isaacs
had lent all the money he was willing to put on the house, and gave
notice that to-morrow he would foreclose.